The prisoners that were taken here Lieut. Jackson sent to Fort Yuma and placed under guard, as Gen. Crook had made up his mind to capture all the Apaches he could and try in that way to civilize them, but he made a total failure in regard to this particular tribe of Indians.
I informed George's father and mother of his death as soon as I could get a letter to them, telling them as soon as I returned to the fort I would draw his pay and send it to them, which I did. When I talked to Lieut. Jackson of quitting he said he could not spare me until the summer's campaign was over, so I remained with him.
We moved on and established our quarters at the same place as the year before, and a more lonesome summer I never put in anywhere than there. I was not able to do anything more than stay in camp and give orders until late in the season. Lieut. Jackson had two more engagements that season, but I was not able to be in either of them.
The first one the soldiers killed nine Indians, and the other time the Indians made an attack on him while he, with twenty of his men, were escorting an emigrant train across the mountains. In this engagement the Lieutenant did not lose a man, and only three horses, and killed twenty-three Indians and gave them a chase of about ten miles.
It was now getting late in the fall and Lieut. Jackson pulled out for the fort, and by that time I was just able to climb on my horse without assistance. We arrived at Fort Yuma about the first of November, and there I remained till the first of June, 1878.
Before I left I made Mrs. Davis and her family a farewell visit. Two of her daughters were then married and lived near their mother, and all seemed to be in a prosperous condition. After a pleasant visit with the Davis folks I returned to the fort and commenced making preparations to leave, but was delayed in starting at least a month on account of some soldiers who had served their time out and were going to return with me. I told my old friend Lieut. Jackson the day before starting that I did not think that there was another white man in the United States that had seen less of civilization or more of Indian warfare than I had, it now being just thirty-one years since I started out with Uncle Kit Carson onto the plains and into the mountains.
When I left the fort this time it was with the determination that I would not go into the scouting field again, and I have kept my word so far, and think I shall thus continue. I started out from the fort with twenty-three head of horses, and I packed the baggage of the four discharged soldiers in order to get them to help me with my loose horses.
CHAPTER XLIV.
A GRIZZLEY HUNTS THE HUNTER.—SHOOTING SEALS IN ALASKAN WATERS.—I BECOME A SEATTLE HOTEL KEEPER AND THE BIG FIRE CLOSES ME OUT.— SOME REST.
On my arrival at San Francisco the first thing was to get rid of my surplus horses. During the time I was selling them I made the acquaintance of a man named Walter Fiske, who was engaged in raising Angora goats, about one hundred and twenty miles north from San Francisco, and who was something of a hunter also. Mr. Fiske invited me to go home with him and have a bear hunt.