A Dangerous Mail Service.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 15, 23 February 1870, Page 7

A Dangerous Mail Service.

Tho following is an extract from a new work entitled Tracks in North America, by William A. Bell, M.A., M.8., Cantab: Amongst the party was tho mail contractor for this road. Twice a-week a mail carrier rides from Tuscon to Fort Bowie, 100 miles ; another thou carries tho mails Farewell, 86 miles ; where ho meets the solitary mail carrier who has to come from La Mesilla, 129 miles to the eastward. Tho mail-bags are exchanged, and each returns the way lie came. The men who thus pass unguarded backwards and forwards through a hostile Indian country require uo small share of reckless bravery. Their pay is high, being S2OO in gold (or £4O) a-month. The contractor told mo that a year never passed without one or more of his carriers being “jumped” by the Indians, under which circumstances he always made a point of carrying the mails himself, for a fortnight at least, over the very section of road upon which his man had been killed. He had never anv difficulty afterwards in finding some one elso sufficiently reckless to risk his life for the ordinary remuneration. During the latter ten miles of our march most of the route lay through thick brushwood, composed of mesquit, greasewood, two kinds of aloe, yucca, a very large species of prickly pear, and other cacti, besides many other kinds of thorny bushes, which formed an almost impenetrable thicket, well adapted for an ambuscade. Here and there my companion pointed to spots where one or Other of his mail carriers had been killed, or where he himself had been “jumped," and related how he had escaped at this place by the speed of his horse, or at that by good service done hy his revolver. Many of his anecdotes were most exciting, yet there was no apparent tendency towards exaggeration ; while, on the other hand, he openly avowed that the more you have to do with Indian warfare, the more you dread the Indians, and try to keep out of their way, “ Men may be very brave at first, but the continual anxiety soon takes the dash out of them—you bet!” and this (avowal came from a man of undoubted courage. On reaching the mountains at the enjtrance of Apache Pass, he pointed to a poet-hill on the right, and gave me a little of the Ohiricahui Indians during |iis residence on the spot. Until the wiuIter of 18G1-2 the Apaches of that range aCliiricahui Mountains) had not shown any fvery determined hostility to the Americans, and the mail company, for the two Ipears during which they ran coaches along Shis route, kept on good terms with them |by giving occasional presents of blankets and food. At the breaking out of the Rebellion, however, an upstart Federal lofficer, named Barkett, was sent to take charge of this part of the country, and foou after his arrival at the entrance of (Apache Fass, where he formed his camp, some Mexicans applied to him about a boy ef theirs, who they suspected had been stolen by the Apaches. Barkett summoned die chief, Cachees, and his head men to die camp. Being on friendly terms with the troops, the red men immediately responded to the summons. Cachees and Ins six men, however, positively denied dm charge of kidnapping the boy; upon which orders for their arrest were immeliately given. Cachees in a moment slit 3pen the canvas of the tent with his scalp-aig-knife, and escaped; his companions were all secured. A man named Wallace, who had long lived on the most amicable mrms with the tribe, volunteered to go done and treat with them. He did so, md sent back a message to Barkett that, n hia opinion, the boy had not been stolen s y them, but added that he himself was | ' et; dned as a hostage in their hands. Barjrett became furious, and swore that he j hang the red men if the boy was | lofc returned that night; and he kept his *ord. On the heights to tho left those ialf-dozen savages were strung up next norning; and, shocking to relate, poor Wallace, who had trusted so implicitly to he personal affection shown for him by he redskins, was immediately hanged on he summit of the heights on the opposite lide of the pass. This tragedy over, the diief and his entire band tied back once igam to their mountain fastnesses, never nore to come in contact with the white nan, unless in the execution of their unluenchable revenge. Fort Bowio is situated about six miles ip the pass. It consists of a small colleclon of abode houses, built on the summit ■ a hill, which rises as a natural look-out tation in the centre of the defile, and omuiands the road both ways for two or iree miles of its length. The only officers hero at the time of our visit were Lieut, jarroll, Lieut. Hubbard, and the resident Surgeon; the only troops, one small com|any of forty men. The officers insisted Spoil Lawson, Colton, and myself sharing Rheir quarters ; they had not had a visitor any kind for months, and had almost jfcrgotten that the world was inhabited. P-fter luncheon I strolled out upon a higher Bill-top to choose a good position for taking | photograph of the fort and pass. The Waa u very beautiful one, for we were in on all sides by lofty mountains, fp luoa t conspicuous of which is Helen’s || mc . Some two miles distant in tV

pass, tlio sheep ami oxen belonging to tie fort wore peacefully grazing, whoa sud dcmly I perceived a commotion umongs the garrison. All were hurrying to tin highest part and looking towards the cattle from which direction 1 hoard a few shot fired. It appeared on enquiry that the mai carrier going west to Tucson had only gore on Ids way a short distance past the cattle just beyond the turning in the road whicl hid him from the fort, when ho suddenly came upon two Indians, who were stealthily creeping up towards the stock. Shots were exchanged, and he immediately turned bach to give the alarm to the men guarding the cattle, and to the sentinels at the fort, The Indians allowed themselves two oi three the open, and then disappeared. It was useless for us, with our wearied horses, to join in the chase after a couple of naked red men, so we remained behind. So poorly supplied was this little fort, if such a term may be applied to a collection of mud huts, that two horses represented the entire stock. It was customary to keep one of them with the herd and the other in the stable. The favourite chestnut of the lieutenant’s, a high-mettled, splendid creature, happened this day to be at home. He was at once saddled. Carrol was quite young: he had only seen some eighteen summers, and looked even younger, for he was very fair, and he had not the least tinge of whisker on his smooth cheeks. I remember watching him spring with one bound from the ground into his saddle, wave his hand merrily to ns, and then dash down the steep, winding road which led to the pass below. Again we saw him racing as fast as the horse could carry him along the pass after the mail carrier, who, being previously mounted, had started off with the infantry. I went back to my photography, for there were many views I wished to obtain; but my friend, Lieutenant Lawson, could not remain long inactive. He was a great character. Although very short, quite grey with years, and not in the least like a military man, he was the gamest little fellow I ever met. So fond of soldiering did he become during the war, that he could not settle down to business again. Though one of the steadiest of men, and a religious man also (a great rarity out West), he actually left his good wife and family comfortably settled at Cincinnati, changed his social position from wholesale hardware merchant and ex-colonel of volunteers, to simple lieutenant in the regular army, and started to join a Western regiment. The merest chance of a brush witlx the Indians was irresistible ; so he orderel out his six men and their six jaded horses, and off they went down the winding road, and then away out of sight along the pass. As the afternoon went by, most of the infantry returned by twos and threes, and we were sitting down to dinner when Lieutenant Lawson and his men rode into the fort. They had hunted about all over the mountains and through the ravines, but had encountered no savages, nor caught a glimpse of a redskin. Carrol, to our surprise, was not with them. We made enquiries, and found that all had reported themselves except the lieutenant and the mail-carrier. We questioned those who had gone the farthest, and also a shepherd just back from over the hills. These agreed that they had heard distant reports of fire-arms coming apparently from the western plain. This was the direction the two redskins had taken. So we saddled our horses without delay, and, with sickening forebodings in our hearts, started across the mountains towards the western plain. We scrambled up the base of Helen’s Dome, which was so steep as almost to baflie our horses, well trained as , they were to all sorts of bad places; then, after skirting the side for some distance, we crossed a ravine to another mountain slope, down which we plunged, over large blocks of limestone and marble, leading our horses by their bridles, and clambering through the rocks as best we could. Every moment was precious, for the suu had almost set before we reached the plain. Then we spread out in line, nine in number; for there was no enemy in sight, and our only hope was to strike the trail, for we know they must have passed somewhere in this direction. Every eye was fixed on the ground, every blade of grass was closely scanned ; our souls were in our eyes. At last one remarked “pony tracks;” then another called out, “ This way they lead ;” not two, three, or four tracks, but many—perhaps a dozen. The white men had evidently followed too far in pursuit, and, falling into an ambuscade, had been cut off from their comrades. Most of the hoofprints were naked, but two sets were shod. These were certainly those of the missing horses. We could not hurry on very rapidly without losing the trails, and yet there was not half an hour’s daylight. For throe miles farther we pressed on, carefully tracking our way. We passed a spot much trampled down and bloodstained. Here the poor fellows had made a stand ; had probably tried to cut their way back through their enemies, who were driving them from the fort. A little farther, and all hope of life was gone. The mail-carrier lay stretched upon the open plain—scalped, naked, and mutilated—in the setting sun. This poor man wore whiskers, and tho savages produced even a more startling effect, th in n.u\al bvsoaln-

ing one of them. Thus half of the face was stripped of skin, and tho bleeding muscles wore laid bare. We could not stop for a moment; but, dragging up two huge magay plants to mark the spot, we followed tho pony tracks. The sun sank, aui,l it was only by the red glare thrown up from behind the horizon, and reflected by the bare mountains of rock to the east of us, that we were able to track our way. So difficult was it at last that we began to despair of over learning the fate of poor Carroll. We longed to see his dead body ; for the idea of his being taken alive to be tortured and roasted over a slow tire, whilst the fiends danced round him and exulted over his agony, was the one dread consummation which made our blood run cold. No one spoke, for wo all knew well that such would be his fate if that sun had not shone upon his corpse. As we took a last searching look over the dimly-lighted plain in front of us, we saw an object move slightly on the grass. We quickly rode towards it, and in half a mile farther we found that it was the faithful dog of the lieutenant. He was guarding the stiff and lifeless body of his master. So we wrapped the naked body in a saddle-cloth, and tied it on a horse. But for the moon, Ave should not have found the spot where the mail-carrier lay. We placed him also on another horse, and then turned our faces towards the pass. The wolves were already gathering round the spot, and the night winds Avere blowing up cold and chill. The night before, that Same beautiful moon which now shone peacefully down upon us had lighted us through tho noble gorge in the Peloncello Mountains, Avhile we sang choruses and enjoyed the grandeur of the scene. This night she lighted us through another gorge, in another range of mountains—Apache Pass; but how different Avere our feelings, as slowly we marched in mournful silence over the nine miles which led up to the fort. Thus ended the sth of November. Next morning avc buried the poor felloAvs in the little graveyard among the mountains. The doctor read the burial service, and Lieut. Hubbard, Colton, LaAvson, and myself were the chief mourners. When the final volley had been fired over our two poor comrades, and I turned to glance at the tablets of their companions, I read on the Avooden crosses over every grave but one the same sad story of their fate, “ Killed by the Apaches.” When Cachees’ six best warriors Avere wantonly hanged five year's before, that bold chieftain vowed that for every one of his lost comrades a hundred white men should die by the hands of himself and his band. Tavo more scalps Avere thus added to the long strings of those which already hung from the belts of the Chiricahui braves.