On the Border with Crook

by John Gregory Bourke

The names of Mason McCoy, Edward Clark, Archie MacIntosh, Al Spears, C. E. Cooley, Joe Felmer, Al Seiber, Dan O’Leary, Lew Elliott, Antonio Besias, Jose De Leon, Maria Jilda Grijalba, Victor Ruiz, Manuel Duran, Frank Cahill, Willard Rice, Oscar Hutton, Bob Whitney, John B. Townsend, Tom Moore, Jim O’Neal, Jack Long, Hank ’n Yank (Hewitt and Bartlett), Frank Monach, Harry Hawes, Charlie Hopkins, and many other scouts, guides, and packers of that onerous, dangerous, and crushing campaign, should be inscribed on the brightest page in the annals of Arizona, and locked up in her archives that future generations might do them honor. The great value of the services rendered by the Apache scouts “Alchesay,” “Jim,” “Elsatsoosn,” “Machol,” “Blanquet,” “Chiquito,” “Kelsay,” “Kasoha,” “Nantaje,” “Nannasaddi,” was fittingly acknowledged by General Crook in the orders issued at the time of the surrender of the Apaches, which took place soon after.

Many enlisted men rendered service of a most important and efficient character, which was also acknowledged at the same time and by the same medium; but, on account of lack of space, it is impossible for me to mention them all; conspicuous in the list are the names of Buford, Turpin, Von Medern, Allen, Barrett, Heineman, Stanley, Orr, Lanahan, Stauffer, Hyde, and Hooker.

In the first week of April, a deputation from the hostile bands reached Camp Verde, and expressed a desire to make peace; they were told to return for the head chiefs, with whom General Crook would talk at that point. Signal fires were at once set on all the hills, scouts sent to all places where they would be likely to meet with any of the detachments in the Tonto Basin or the Mogollon, and all possible measures taken to prevent any further hostilities, until it should be seen whether or not the enemy were in earnest in professions of peace.

Lieutenant Jacob Almy, Fifth Cavalry, with whose command I was on duty, scoured the northwest portion of the Tonto Basin, and met with about the same experiences as the other detachments; but I wish to tell that at one of our camping-places, on the upper Verde, we found a ruined building of limestone, laid in adobe, which had once been of two or three stories in height, the corner still standing being not less than twenty-five feet above the ground, with portions of rafters of cottonwood, badly decayed, still in place. It was the opinion of both Almy and myself, after a careful examination, that it was of Spanish and not of Indian origin, and that it had served as a depot for some of the early expeditions entering this country; it would have been in the line of advance of Coronado upon Cibola, and I then thought and still think that it was most probably connected with his great expedition which passed across Arizona in 1541. All this is conjecture, but not a very violent one; Coronado is known to have gone to “Chichilticale,” supposed to have been the “Casa Grande” on the Gila; if so, his safest, easiest, best supplied, and most natural line of march would have been up the valley of the Verde near the head of which this ruin stands.

Another incident was the death of one of our packers, Presiliano Monje, a very amiable man, who had made friends of all our party. He had caught a bad cold in the deep snows on the summit of the Matitzal Range, and this developed into an attack of pneumonia; there was no medical officer with our small command, and all we could do was based upon ignorance and inexperience, no matter how much we might desire to help him. Almy hoped that upon descending from the high lands into the warm valley of the Verde, the change would be beneficial to our patient; but he was either too far gone or too weak to respond, and the only thing left for us to do was to go into bivouac and try the effect of rest and quiet. For two days we had carried Monje in a chair made of mescal stalks strapped to the saddle, but he was by this time entirely too weak to sit up, and we were all apprehensive of the worst. It was a trifle after midnight, on the morning of the 23d of March, 1873, that “the change” came, and we saw that it was a matter of minutes only until we should have a death in our camp; he died before dawn and was buried immediately after sunrise, under the shadow of a graceful cottonwood, alongside of two pretty springs whose babbling waters flowed in unison with the music of the birds. In Monje’s honor we named the cañon “Dead Man’s Cañon,” and as such it is known to this day.

At Camp Verde we found assembled nearly all of Crook’s command, and a dirtier, greasier, more uncouth-looking set of officers and men it would be hard to encounter anywhere. Dust, soot, rain, and grime had made their impress upon the canvas suits which each had donned, and with hair uncut for months and beards growing with straggling growth all over the face, there was not one of the party who would venture to pose as an Adonis; but all were happy, because the campaign had resulted in the unconditional surrender of the Apaches and we were now to see the reward of our hard work. On the 6th of April, 1873, the Apache-Mojave chief “Cha-lipun” (called “Charley Pan” by the Americans), with over three hundred of his followers, made his unconditional submission to General Crook; they represented twenty-three hundred of the hostiles.

General Crook sat on the porch of Colonel Coppinger’s quarters and told the interpreters that he was ready to hear what the Indians had to say, but he did not wish too much talk. “Cha-lipun” said that he had come in, as the representative of all the Apaches, to say that they wanted to surrender because General Crook had “too many cartridges of copper” (“demasiadas cartuchos de cobre”). They had never been afraid of the Americans alone, but now that their own people were fighting against them they did not know what to do; they could not go to sleep at night, because they feared to be surrounded before daybreak; they could not hunt—the noise of their guns would attract the troops; they could not cook mescal or anything else, because the flame and smoke would draw down the soldiers; they could not live in the valleys—there were too many soldiers; they had retreated to the mountain tops, thinking to hide in the snow until the soldiers went home, but the scouts found them out and the soldiers followed them. They wanted to make peace, and to be at terms of good-will with the whites.

Crook took “Cha-lipun” by the hand, and told him that, if he would promise to live at peace and stop killing people, he would be the best friend he ever had. Not one of the Apaches had been killed except through his own folly; they had refused to listen to the messengers sent out asking them to come in; and consequently there had been nothing else to do but to go out and kill them until they changed their minds. It was of no use to talk about who began this war; there were bad men among all peoples; there were bad Mexicans, as there were bad Americans and bad Apaches; our duty was to end wars and establish peace, and not to talk about what was past and gone. The Apaches must make this peace not for a day or a week, but for all time; not with the Americans alone, but with the Mexicans as well; and not alone with the Americans and Mexicans, but with all the other Indian tribes. They must not take upon themselves the redress of grievances, but report to the military officer upon their reservation, who would see that their wrongs were righted. They should remain upon the reservation, and not leave without written passes; whenever the commanding officer wished to ascertain the presence of themselves or any of the bands upon the reservation, they should appear at the place appointed to be counted. So long as any bad Indians remained out in the mountains, the reservation Indians should wear tags attached to the neck, or in some other conspicuous place, upon which tags should be inscribed their number, letter of band, and other means of identification. They should not cut off the noses of their wives when they became jealous of them. They should not be told anything that was not exactly true. They should be fully protected in all respects while on the reservation. They should be treated exactly as white men were treated; there should be no unjust punishments. They must work like white men; a market would be found for all they could raise, and the money should be paid to themselves and not to middlemen. They should begin work immediately; idleness was the source of all evils, and work was the only cure. They should preserve order among themselves; for this purpose a number would be enlisted as scouts, and made to do duty in keeping the peace; they should arrest and confine all drunkards, thieves, and other offenders.

CHAPTER XII.

THE PROBLEM OF CIVILIZING THE APACHES—THE WORK PERFORMED BY MASON, SCHUYLER, RANDALL, RICE, AND BABCOCK—TUCSON RING INFLUENCE AT WASHINGTON—THE WOUNDING OF LIEUTENANT CHARLES KING—THE KILLING OF LIEUTENANT JACOB ALMY—THE SEVEN APACHE HEADS LAID ON THE SAN CARLOS PARADE GROUND—CROOK’S CASH MARKET FOR THE FRUITS OF APACHE INDUSTRY—HIS METHOD OF DEALING WITH INDIANS.