(A Relay Of Mules Had Been Sent To
Meet Us At The Salt River, But By Some Oversight, We Had Missed
It.)
Jack had told me of the curious cholla cactus, which is said to
nod at the approach of human beings, and to deposit its barbed
needles at their feet.
Also I had heard stories of this deep, dark
canon and things that had happened there.
Fort MacDowell was in Maricopa County, Arizona, on the Verde
River, seventy miles or so south of Camp Verde; the roving bands
of Indians, escaping from Camp Apache and the San Carlos
reservation, which lay far to the east and southeast, often found
secure hiding places in the fastnesses of the Superstition
Mountains and other ranges, which lay between old Camp MacDowell
and these reservations.
Hence, a company of cavalry and one of infantry were stationed at
Camp MacDowell, and the officers and men of this small command
were kept busy, scouting, and driving the renegades from out of
this part of the country back to their reservations. It was by no
means an idle post, as I found after I got there; the life at
Camp MacDowell meant hard work, exposure and fatigue for this
small body of men.
As we wound our way through this deep, dark canon, after
crossing the Salt River, I remembered the things I had heard, of
ambush and murder. Our animals were too tired to go out of a
walk, the night fell in black shadows down between those high
mountain walls, the chollas, which are a pale sage-green color in
the day-time, took on a ghastly hue.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 177 of 274
Words from 47127 to 47400
of 72945
