Killing of Sheriff and Deputy and Escape of Kid
The Indians were handcuffed together, two and two, and had shackles on their ankles. They stopped over night at Riverside, about half-way between Globe and Florence. Leaving Riverside early on the morning of November 2nd, while passing up a heavy sand-wash, the pulling being quite heavy, in order to relieve the team, the two officers and six of the Indians got out to walk, the Indians probably having had their shackles loosened from at least one ankle to enable them to do so; the Kid and one of the Indians still remaining in the stage. Suddenly the six Indians that were walking seized the two officers, whom they overpowered and killed with their own guns. As soon as Middleton discovered what was taking place, drawing his own revolver and covering the Kid and the other Indian still in the stage, he kept them quiet until, on standing up to look back, he was shot through the face by one of the other Indians. In the meantime the Mexican, taking advantage of the opportunity, escaped. Middleton, although badly wounded, was not killed; the Indians, however, evidently thought he was dead. He was, however, sufficiently conscious to realize what was taking place and avoided disabusing their minds of their belief, and in due course was rescued and taken to Globe, where he finally fully recovered.
The eight Indians, now armed with a shot-gun, a Winchester rifle, and three revolvers, partly stripping Middleton and the two officers, hastened to get away. Stories of the manner of their relieving themselves of their shackles do not agree. One story is that, finding a blacksmith-shop near the mouth of the San Pedro river, they succeeded in cutting the shackles loose. Middleton’s statement is that, finding the keys in the pockets of the Sheriff, they easily freed themselves of their irons, and the plausibility of this is quite evident, as the officers must necessarily have had the keys with them. After their escape the Indians are supposed to have come along the west side of the Catalina mountains, and passed near the Half-way House, between Tucson and Fort Lowell, as their tracks were seen there crossing the road, going south.
Sword Presented to General Miles.
The people of Arizona, having been finally and, it was felt, permanently relieved of this black incubus that had been hanging over them for the many years dating back to their early coming to the Territory, and General Miles having contributed so largely to the result, decided to do something marking their appreciation of the services rendered them, and this found expression in the presentation of a sword. Through a popular subscription a magnificent sword costing $1000 was procured through Tiffany & Company of New York, the blade being of the finest steel, beautifully etched, and the hilt of solid gold. The presentation took place on November 8th, 1887, at Levin’s Park, at the foot of Pennington street. It was originally intended that the ceremony should take place on September 4th, the anniversary of the surrender of Geronimo, but that day falling on a Sunday, it was fixed for Monday the 5th. General Miles, however, having been injured by the overturning of the carriage in which he was out riding at Santa Monica, California, on August 8th, the presentation was delayed until the date named. Many notables in our country, also the Governors of neighboring Mexican States, were invited to be present. A distinguishing feature in the very long procession leading to the Park was three hundred mounted Papagos, under their chief, Asuncion Ruiz, in all their barbaric splendor of feathers and paint. The Papagos had always been the consistent friends of the whites and the inveterate foes of the Apaches, so they were more than glad to participate in this event. In addition to the conventional combination usually found in parades, there were the 4th U. S. cavalry band and a platoon of United States artillery, William Zeckendorf, one of the very early pioneers, acting as grand marshal. One of the photographs suggesting this article is of this procession, evidently taken from the roof of one of the buildings on the west side of Main street, looking up Pennington street, and shows the parade the full length of the street, the head not having quite reached Main street. The presentation was made on a platform erected for the purpose in the Park. Royal A. Johnson was president of the day, I having the honor of acting as secretary, and Judge W. H. Barnes making the presentation address. One of my duties as secretary was to read the letters of regret from those who had been invited but were unable to be present. Among these I now recall letters from Secretary of War Wm. C. Endicott, Gen. Sherman, and R. G. Ingersoll. Among those present were Major Chaffee, subsequently Lieutenant General, and Lieutenant Wood, now Major General. The other of the two photographs is of General Miles and those on the platform with him, taken as the general was delivering his address accepting the sword. In the evening, following the presentation, there was a reception and ball at the San Xavier hotel, since burned down, near the station; this hotel at the time was kept by Wheeler and Perry.
Johnny Greenleaf Mistakes Scouts for Kid.
As illustrating the trying experiences that one might be subject to during these troublous times when the fear of the Kid was in the very air, I may relate one of a friend of mine, Johnny Greenleaf. Johnny was sinking a well on his ranch, some distance from the house, and had just ridden to where his two men were at work, one in the well and the other on top. Suddenly a number of Indians came in sight, approaching the well. Recognizing them as Apaches, he naturally assumed them to be the Kid and some of his followers, and obeying the instinct of human nature, that of self-preservation, cried out, “Here comes the Kid!” quickly mounted his horse and started to escape. He had gone but a short distance, however, till that chivalrous spirit which makes one sacrifice his own life rather than cowardly desert his comrade, asserted itself, and he immediately turned and rode back to his men, both of whom were now on top, realizing at the same time that there was absolutely nothing that he could do, neither he nor his men having a shooting-iron of any kind, all of their weapons having been left at the house. The Indians now approaching the well, Johnny asked them in English what they were hunting and where they were going. One of them, speaking English very poorly, in trying to make himself understood mentioned the Kid in such a way that Johnny understood him to say that he was the Apache Kid. This simply confirmed what Johnny had thought, but it so startled him that for a while he could barely speak; for if this were the Kid, there was little chance for the lives of either Johnny or his men. Finally, recovering his nerve and asking something else, the Indian succeeded in making it understood that they were scouts from San Carlos and were seeking the Kid. You can well imagine the relief of the three men when they realized that they were in no danger.
What Would You Do?
I think I hear one of my readers saying that Johnny’s attempt to escape was a cowardly thing to do. Yes? What would you have done, and what would I, under the same circumstances? Unless idiotic, or too frightened to mount the horse, we would have done just what Johnny did. Assuming that this had been the Kid, as Johnny firmly believed, his escape meant the loss of but two lives, instead of the loss of the same two and the sacrifice of a third—his own—if he remained. But no man knows just exactly what he would do under a certain trying condition until he has been subjected to the test of that very condition. He may think he does, but he doesn’t. But having gone less than 100 yards, Johnny’s mind has had time to react, and the chivalrous spirit asserts itself, and he turns and rides back—to what? To his death, he has every reason to believe. But having gotten the 100 yards away, would you or I have turned and ridden back to our own certain death? Is there not a possibility that were the world wide enough and the horse strong enough we might still be going? In your imagination don’t place the standard too high for the nerve you think you possess, if at the time you are absolutely in no danger.