Mr. Colyer had arrived in a six-mule army ambulance (a black, covered spring wagon with high driver’s seat, and two bench-like seats inside, facing each other), escorted by a squad of cavalry from Fort Whipple, under Lieutenant Ross.
He was a square-set, benevolent-looking gentleman, in dusty black broadcloth, and white shirt and broad black hat. Attended by Colonel F. W. Crittenden, the post commander, and by other officers, he had been talking, through Concepcion the interpreter, to the tame Apaches at the post, and he was about to go out to Chief Es-kim-en-zin’s rancheria, where the surrendered Pinals and Arivaipas were farming.
“They are the same people who were so barbarously attacked last spring, I understand,” he remarked.
“Yes, sir,” replied Lieutenant Royal Whitman.
“You were in charge of the post then, were you not?”
“I was. But before I could reach their camp the deed had been done. I think you will see by my report upon the matter, to the Department, how I feel about it. It was a thorough outrage, and the members of the attacking party ought to be arrested, tried and punished.”
“Quite true,” uttered Mr. Colyer. “A shocking state of affairs exists through the whole Territory. All the Indians with whom I have talked declare that they would gladly gather upon reservations, accept the Government’s aid, and live at peace with mankind, if the soldiery and white citizens would only cease hunting them down. Some of the bands are so frightened and timid that they won’t confer even with me, their friend. I’ve tried in vain to meet Chief Cochise, of the Chiricahuas. You can see, my brothers,” he continued, addressing the group of soldiers and scouts and tame Apaches, “what an injustice has been done these simple savages. Our duty is not to punish them for defending their homes, but to gain their good-will by patience and kindness, until they are won to the benefits of civilization. That is why the President and the Society of Friends have delegated me to visit among you, and bring this bad feeling between the white men and the red men to an end.”
“‘Simple savages,’ are they?” afterwards commented Joe. “If thar’s anybody smarter’n an Apache in sizin’ things up, I’ve yet to find him. At present this hyar Quaker strikes me as bein’ ’bout the simplest pusson in Arizony. The ’Paches can understand straight talk, like that Gen’ral Crook gave ’em, an’ they can understand war; but they don’t understand coaxin’. When you coax a ’Pache he laughs in his insides an’ reckons he’ll do as he pleases as long as he can. Once you coax him, then he thinks you’re ’fraid of him, ’cause that’s Injun way.”
Mr. Colyer was driven out to the Chief Es-kim-en-zin camp, where he talked with old Santos and the chief, and others of the Pinals and Arivaipas. He informed them that the Great White Father at Washington would see to it that they were no longer ill-treated by the white men. All the Apaches might come in and live on the lands that the Government was giving them. They should have plenty to eat, and the white men who interfered should be punished.