I told Brother Ivins to go back to the wagon and I would go and meet them, and if they shot me, he and the others must jump into the brush and try and save their lives as best they could. I got off from my horse and walked up to the Indians, who stood in a group, filling the road. As I approached alone they did not seem to make any move whatever. I spoke, saluting them in Spanish. They answered all right. I offered them my hand and they all shook hands with me. I asked them where they were going. They said down to their homes and asked where I was going. I told them I was going to my home a long way off in the northern country. Thus we kept asking and answering questions till one asked why we were traveling by night. I told them that my companions were afraid of them, but that I was not for I was a friend to the Indians and did not believe they would ever kill me. They began to laugh and asked me who I thought they were. I asked, "Are you not Apaches?" "No, senor, we are not Apaches," they answered, "but like you we are traveling in the night because we are afraid of them." I now called to my companions who had been waiting in suspense. All my bravery and fortitude were wasted, further than to prove to myself that I was willing to stand the test. We had a good long talk with these Indians who were of the Opitas, a people similar to the Pimas, and who live in the foothills of the Sierra Madre in Sonora. As we neared the frontier ranches on the American side we found that the Apache war was a reality. We camped at Cow Springs. Much apprehension was felt at Burro Sienega. Here we met Mr. Connor whom we had met on the trip down. His father and brother were killed shortly after at this ranch. We heard that soldiers were concentrating at Bowie with orders to capture and take all the Apaches to the San Carlos reservation. Apache signal fires could be seen in the mountains south of Bowie. Our route now led through the most perilous part of the country; hundreds of people having been killed along this road in past years, our feelings were to put our trust in God and go on. We arrived at San Simon where a lot of "hard cases" were camped. It was a question whether we were safer with them than alone; but they were afraid and felt better while we were with them. Next day was the "teller." If we could make Bowie all right, our chances would be better from there on as troops were en route to that post from Camps Verde, McDowell and Apache. Our day's travel from San Simon to Bowie was one of anxiety, but we made it in safety.