Closing Act in Great Drama

Clark had been there for probably twenty minutes, when, looking off across an intervening canyon, he noticed three Indians approaching his horse where it was grazing, about 1500 yards away. The Indians not having discovered Clark, who, knowing it would be impossible to get across the canyon in time to save his horse, raised the sights of his gun, and fired at them, not expecting, however, to hit any one of them at that distance, but hoping to frighten them away from his horse. On firing, Clark immediately ducked into the canyon, out of sight of the Indians, who were evidently frightened by the shot. Waiting there until dusk, he cautiously crawled towards his horse for the purpose of taking him to the house, and was within about seventy-five yards of him, it being too dark to see an object distinctly at any distance, when he saw two Indians approaching the horse, and only a few steps from the animal and about 50 yards from where Clark was. Owing to the darkness it was impossible to more than distinguish the two Indians, who were but a few feet apart, one ahead of the other. These were subsequently found to be the Kid and his squaw, the squaw in front and nearest to Clark, but owing to the darkness it was impossible to distinguish one from the other. Clark instantly raised his gun and fired at the one nearest to him, but, being unable to see the sights, could only take a quick aim along the barrel. By his long experience with a gun he knew the danger of overshooting in the dark, and made allowance accordingly. As Clark fired there came a simultaneous report from the Kid’s rifle and an outcry from the squaw, and from the character of this outcry, Clark knew that he had made the mistake of firing at the wrong Indian. The ball from the Kid’s gun whistled alarmingly close to Clark’s head, but fortunately did no harm. Following the shots, the two Indians immediately dropped to the ground, and as fast as the old scout could work his rifle he “pumped the lead” into where they had dropped, firing several shots. The Indian, however, fired but the one shot. Clark then made a run for his horse, but the animal being frightened, he was unable to catch him.

Not knowing how many of the Indians there might be about, Clark immediately set out for Mammoth, on the San Pedro, where he procured a small posse, and was back at the scene of the shooting by morning, finding the squaw dead a short distance from where she had been shot. Following the Kid’s trail, they found that he had hopped on one foot to where he had left his horse, one of his legs evidently being broken. Scouts from San Carlos, following his trail, found some bloody rags where he had built a little fire, and probably dressed his wounds.

Kid’s Career Ended

Thus ended the murderous career of the Kid, the terror of the Southwest. Clark had undoubtedly hit him with one or more of his shots. Where or how soon after he may have died, no white man knows, Clark being the last one to see him, as the two shots simultaneously rang out on the silence of that night. Had it been the Kid instead of the squaw, Clark would have earned the large reward that was offered for him dead or alive. Tom Horn, an old scout, who spoke the Apache language like a native, came from Denver subsequently, hoping that by some chance the Kid might still be living somewhere and that he might earn the reward. The mother and the sister, however, both assured him that the Kid was dead, but beyond this would say nothing.

It would seem that there could be no more fitting ending to this little sketch than its dedication to the memory of those old-timers, makers of early-day history, the old pioneers. Each well played his individual part in that great border drama. On them the curtain has rung down for the last time. To them the succeeding generations owe much.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.