Carpentero begged the captain to place all that it would cost for the outfit to his own account, and let him go. The captain consented, a letter was written, and the Yuma, with a brother and two others, started. This was about the eighth of February, 1856.
Several days passed, and the men about the fort thought they had Carpentero in a place where it would do to remind him of “his trusty Francisco.” And thus they did, asking him if he “did not think his blankets and beads had sold cheap?” if he “had not better send another Indian after the blankets?” etc., with other questions indicating their own distrust of the whole movement.
On the twentieth day, about noon, three Yuma Indians, living some distance from the fort, came to the fort and asked permission to see “a man by the name of Carpentero.” They were shown his tent, and went in and made themselves known, saying, “Carpentero, Francisco is coming.”
“Has he the girl with him?” quickly asked the agitated Carpentero, bounding to his feet.
They laughed sillily, saying, “Francisco will come here when the sun be right over there,” pointing in the direction marked by Francisco.
With eager eyes Carpentero stood gazing for some time, when three Indians and two females, dressed in closely woven bark skirts, came down to the ferry on the opposite side of the river. At that he bounded toward them, crying at the top of his voice, “They have come; the captive girl is here!” All about the fort were soon apprised that it was even so, and soon they were either running to meet and welcome the captive, or were gazing with eagerness to know if this strange report could be true.
Olive, with her characteristic modesty, was unwilling to appear in her bark attire and her poor shabby dress among the whites, eager as she was to catch again a glimpse of their countenances, one of whom she had not seen for years. As soon as this was made known, a noble-hearted woman, the wife of one of the officers and the lady to whose kind hospitalities she was afterward indebted for every kindness that could minister to her comfort the few weeks she tarried there, sent her a dress and clothing of the best she had.
Amid long enthusiastic cheering and the booming of cannon, Miss Olive was presented to the commander of the fort by Francisco. Every one seemed to partake of the joy and enthusiasm that prevailed. Those who had been the most skeptical of the intentions of Francisco, were glad to find their distrust rebuked in so agreeable a manner. The Yumas gathered in large numbers, and seemed to partake in the general rejoicing, joining their heavy shrill voices in the shout, and fairly making the earth tremble beneath the thunder of their cheering.
Francisco told the captain he had been compelled to give more for the captive than what he had obtained of him; that he had promised the Mohave chief a horse, and that his daughter was now present to see that this promise was fulfilled. Also, that a son of the chief would be in within a few days to receive the horse. A good horse was given him, and each of the kind officers at the fort testified their gratitude to him, as well as their hearty sympathy with the long separated brother and sister, by donating freely and liberally of their money to make up a horse for Francisco; and he was told there, in the presence of the rest of his tribe, that he had not only performed an act for which the gratitude of the whites would follow him, but one that might probably save his tribe and the Mohaves much trouble and many lives.
