On the Border with Crook

by John Gregory Bourke

There was no time lost in putting the Apaches to work. As soon as the rest of the band had come in, which was in less than a week, the Apaches were compelled to begin getting out an irrigating ditch, under the superintendence of Colonel Julius W. Mason, Fifth Cavalry, an officer of much previous experience in engineering. Their reservation was established some miles above the post, and the immediate charge of the savages was intrusted to Lieutenant Walter S. Schuyler, Fifth Cavalry, who manifested a wonderful aptitude for the delicate duties of his extra-military position. There were absolutely no tools on hand belonging to the Indian Bureau, and for that matter no medicines, and only the scantiest supplies, but Crook was determined that work should be begun without the delay of a day. He wanted to get the savages interested in something else besides tales of the war-path, and to make them feel as soon as possible the pride of ownership, in which he was a firm believer.

According to his idea, the moment an Indian began to see the fruits of his industry rising above the ground, and knew that there was a ready cash market awaiting him for all he had to sell, he would see that “peace hath her victories no less renowned than war.” He had been going on the war-path, killing and robbing the whites, not so much because his forefathers had been doing it before him, but because it was the road to wealth, to fame, to prominence and distinction in the tribe. Make the Apache or any other Indian see that the moment he went on the war-path two white men would go out also; and make him see that patient industry produces wealth, fame, and distinction of a much more permanent and a securer kind than those derived from a state of war, and the Indian would acquiesce gladly in the change. But neither red man nor white would submit peaceably to any change in his mode of life which was not apparently to his advantage.

The way the great irrigating ditch at Camp Verde was dug was this. All the Apaches were made to camp along the line of the proposed canal, each band under its own chiefs. Everything in the shape of a tool which could be found at the military post of Camp Verde or in those of Whipple and Hualpai was sent down to Mason. There were quantities of old and worn-out spades, shovels, picks, hatchets, axes, hammers, files, rasps, and camp kettles awaiting the action of an inspector prior to being thrown away and dropped from the returns as “worn out in service.” With these and with sticks hardened in the fire, the Apaches dug a ditch five miles long, and of an average cross-section of four feet wide by three deep, although there were places where the width of the upper line was more than five feet, and that of the bottom four, with a depth of more than five. The men did the excavating; the women carried off the earth in the conical baskets which they make of wicker-work. As soon as the ditch was ready, General Crook took some of the chiefs up to his headquarters at Fort Whipple, and there had them meet deputations from all the other tribes living within the territory of Arizona, with whom they had been at war—the Pimas, Papagoes, Maricopas, Yumas, Cocopahs, Hualpais, Mojaves, Chimahuevis—and with them peace was also formally made.

Mason and Schuyler labored assiduously with the Apaches, and soon had not less than fifty-seven acres of land planted with melons and other garden truck, of which the Indians are fond, and every preparation made for planting corn and barley on a large scale. A large water-wheel was constructed out of packing-boxes, and at a cost to the Government, including all labor and material, of not quite thirty-six dollars. The prospects of the Apaches looked especially bright, and there was hope that they might soon be self-sustaining; but it was not to be. A “ring” of Federal officials, contractors, and others was formed in Tucson, which exerted great influence in the national capital, and succeeded in securing the issue of peremptory orders that the Apaches should leave at once for the mouth of the sickly San Carlos, there to be herded with the other tribes. It was an outrageous proceeding, one for which I should still blush had I not long since gotten over blushing for anything that the United States Government did in Indian matters. The Apaches had been very happy at the Verde, and seemed perfectly satisfied with their new surroundings. There had been some sickness, occasioned by their using too freely the highly concentrated foods of civilization, to which they had never been accustomed; but, aside from that, they themselves said that their general condition had never been so good.

The move did not take place until the winter following, when the Indians flatly refused to follow the special agent sent out by the Indian Bureau, not being acquainted with him, but did consent to go with Lieutenant George O. Eaton, Fifth Cavalry, who has long since resigned from the army, and is now, I think, Surveyor-General of Montana. At Fort Apache the Indians were placed under the charge of Major George M. Randall, Twenty-third Infantry, assisted by Lieutenant Rice, of the same regiment. This portion of the Apache tribe is of unusual intelligence, and the progress made was exceptionally rapid. Another large body had been congregated at the mouth of the San Carlos, representing those formerly at old Camp Grant, to which, as we have seen, were added the Apache-Mojaves from the Verde. The Apache-Mojave and the Apache-Yuma belonged to one stock, and the Apache or Tinneh to another. They speak different languages, and although their habits of life are almost identical, there is sufficient divergence to admit of the entrance of the usual jealousies and bickerings bound to arise when two strange, illiterate tribes are brought in enforced contact.

The strong hand and patient will of Major J. B. Babcock ruled the situation at this point; he was the man for the place, and performed his duties in a manner remarkable for its delicate appreciation of the nature of the Indians, tact in allaying their suspicions, gentle firmness in bringing them to see that the new way was the better, the only way. The path of the military officers was not strewn with roses; the Apaches showed a willingness to conform to the new order of things, but at times failed to apprehend all that was required of them, at others showed an inclination to backslide.

Crook’s plan was laid down in one line in his instructions to officers in charge of reservations: “Treat them as children in ignorance, not in innocence.” His great principle of life was, “The greatest of these is charity.” He did not believe, and he did not teach, that an Indian could slough off the old skin in a week or a month; he knew and he indicated that there might be expected a return of the desire for the old wild life, with its absolute freedom from all restraint, its old familiar food, and all its attendant joys, such as they were. To conquer this as much as possible, he wanted to let the Indians at times cut and roast mescal, gather grass seeds and other diet of that kind, and, where it could be done without risk, go out on hunts after antelope and deer. It could not be expected that all the tribe should wish to accept the manner of life of the whites; there would surely be many who would prefer the old order of things, and who would work covertly for its restitution. Such men were to be singled out, watched, and their schemes nipped in the bud.

There were outbreaks, attempted outbreaks, and rumors of outbreaks at Verde, Apache, and at the San Carlos, with all the attendant excitement and worry. At or near the Verde, in the “Red Rock country,” and in the difficult brakes of the “Hell” and “Rattlesnake” cañons issuing out of the San Francisco Peak, some of the Apache-Mojaves who had slipped back from the party so peremptorily ordered to the San Carlos had secreted themselves and begun to give trouble. They were taken in hand by Schuyler, Seiber, and, at a later date, by Captain Charles King, the last-named being dangerously wounded by them at the “Sunset Pass.” At the San Carlos Agency there were disputes of various kinds springing up among the tribes, and worse than that a very acrimonious condition of feeling between the two men who claimed to represent the Interior Department. As a sequel to this, my dear friend and former commanding officer, Lieutenant Jacob Almy, lost his life.

Notwithstanding the chastisement inflicted upon the Apaches, some of the minor chiefs, who had still a record to make, preferred to seclude themselves in the cañons and cliffs, and defy the powers of the general government. It was a source of pride to know that they were talked about by the squaws and children upon the reserve, as men whom the whites had not been able to capture or reduce. Towards these men, Crook was patient to a wonderful degree, thinking that reason would assert itself after a time, and that, either of their own motion, or through the persuasion of friends, they would find their way into the agencies.

The ostensible reason for the absence of these men was their objection to the system of “tagging” in use at the agencies, which General Crook had introduced for the better protection of the Indians, as well as to enable the commanding officers to tell at a moment’s notice just where each and every one of the males capable of bearing arms was to be found. These tags were of various shapes, but all small and convenient in size; there were crosses, crescents, circles, diamonds, squares, triangles, etc., each specifying a particular band, and each with the number of its owner punched upon it. If a scouting party found Apaches away from the vicinity of the agencies, they would make them give an account of themselves, and if the pass shown did not correspond with the tags worn, then there was room for suspicion that the tags had been obtained from some of the Agency Indians in gambling—in the games of “Con Quien,” “Tze-chis,” “Mush-ka”—to which the Apaches were passionately addicted, and in which they would play away the clothes on their backs when they had any. Word was sent to the Indians of whom I am writing to come in and avoid trouble, and influences of all kinds were brought to bear upon the squaws with them—there were only a few—to leave the mountains, and return to their relatives at the San Carlos. The principal chiefs were gradually made to see that they were responsible for this condition of affairs, and that they should compel these outlaws to obey the orders which had been issued for the control of the whole tribe. So long as they killed no one the troops and Apache scouts would not be sent out against them; they should be given ample opportunity for deciding; but it might be well for them to decide quickly, as in case of trouble arising at San Carlos, the whole tribe would be held responsible for the acts of these few. One of them was named “Chuntz,” another “Chaundezi,” and another “Clibicli;” there were more in the party, but the other names have temporarily escaped my memory. The meaning of the first word I do not know; the second means “Long Ear,” and is the Apache term for mule; the third I do not know, but it has something to do with horse, the first syllable meaning horse, and the whole word, I believe, means “the horse that is tied.” They lived in the cañon of the Gila, and would often slip in by night to see their relatives at the agency.