If a party were strong, or not worth cleaning out, or killing, the Apaches usually gave them a wide berth. But woe to those whom they marked for their prey, if not well armed, and ceaselessly vigilant. They would dog a party for days, with the tireless energy of the sleuth-hound, watching for an unguarded moment in which to attack, and then suddenly pounce upon them, like fiends, as they were. As a rule, they used bows and arrows still; but many had fire-arms, and knew how to handle them with deadly effect. We were shown several of their children, captured in different fights, and they were the wiriest, fiercest little savages imaginable. Sullen, dogged, resolute little Red Skins, they lacked only maturity and strength to "make their mark" on somebody's head; and this they seemed quite likely to do yet, unless their Apache natures were thoroughly "reconstructed." They had a peculiar and pleasant _penchant_ for setting fire to hay-stacks and ranches, and on the whole were a species of population, that nobody but an Arizonian would care much to fancy. They were held as servants in different families, and their service in too many instances approximated to downright slavery--so much so, indeed, that the attention of the Territorial authorities was already being directed to the matter. As if to give us some proof of their enterprise and audacity, a band of these Apaches made a raid near Prescott, the very day we arrived there. They attacked a ranch only three miles east of "this New-England-like" village, and seized several cattle and drove them off. A mounted scout was at once sent out from Fort Whipple, and though they marched seventy-five miles in twenty-four hours, they failed to come up with the Red Skins. The officer in command reported the bold marauders as strong in numbers, and fleeing in the direction of Hell Cañon--an ugly, diabolical-looking place, some forty miles east of Prescott. Gen. Gregg, then commanding the District of Prescott, immediately ordered out two fresh companies of cavalry, and, himself at their head, made a forced march by night, in order to surprise them in their reported stronghold. Next morning at daybreak, he was at Hell Cañon, but no Apaches were found there, nor any traces of them. After a brief halt, he ordered the cavalry to follow down the cañon to its junction with the Verde, and after scouring all the cañons centering there, to return by a wide detour to Fort Whipple. The General himself now returned to Prescott, and I cheerfully bear witness to his vigor and chagrin, having accompanied him out and back. A detachment of the cavalry, a day or two afterwards, succeeded in finding a rancheria of Apaches in a villainous cañon, miles away to the southwest of the Verde--a thin curling smoke in the mountains revealing their presence. The troops pushed boldly in, and came suddenly on the rancheria, or village, before they were discovered. Dismounting from their horses, they