General Crook and the Fighting Apaches: Treating Also of the Part Borne by Jimmie Dunn in the days, 1871-1886, When With Soldiers and Pack-trains and Indian Scouts, but Employing the Stronger Weapons of Kindness, Firmness and Honesty, the Gray Fox Worked Hard to the End That the White Men and the Red Men in the Southwest as in the Northwest Might Better Understand One AnotherSabin, Edwin L. (Edwin Legrand)
General
General Crook and the Fighting Apaches: Treating Also of the Part Borne by Jimmie Dunn in the days, 1871-1886, When With Soldiers and Pack-trains and Indian Scouts, but Employing the Stronger Weapons of Kindness, Firmness and Honesty, the Gray Fox Worked Hard to the End That the White Men and the Red Men in the Southwest as in the Northwest Might Better Understand One Another
Without delay the Geronimo and Nah-che remnant of hostiles, and all the
Chiricahua and Warm Spring Apaches, four hundred in number, at the Fort
Apache (White Mountain) reservation, are removed, whether friendly or
not, to Florida. This is deemed the only practicable measure of freeing
the Southwest from the menace of Apache outbreaks. The expenses of the
Department of Arizona are lessened by $1,000,000 a year.
The climate of Florida is unfavorable to the Apaches. Geronimo
complains that he and Nah-che had understood that their families
were to accompany them. Many of the Apaches die from disease and
homesickness.
In May, 1888, the Apaches are removed from Florida to Mt. Vernon
barracks, Alabama; and in October, 1894, as prisoners of war to Fort
Sill Military Reservation, Indian Territory (now Oklahoma).
The principal reservations of the Arizona Apaches are the Fort Apache
and the San Carlos, each containing between two and three thousand
Indians. There are still over two hundred of the Chiricahuas and Warm
Springs at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. Geronimo died February 17, 1909, at
Fort Sill. Nah-che succeeded him as chief.
[Illustration: APACHE ARIZONA
and the principal places in General Crook’s time]
GENERAL CROOK AND THE FIGHTING APACHES
I
JIMMIE DUNN IS BADLY FOOLED
“Tinkle, tinkle,” placidly sounded the bell of the old bell-wether,
to prove that he and the other sheep were grazing near at hand in the
stiff brush.
“All right,” thought Jimmie Dunn, whose business it was to keep tab on
the whereabouts of that bell.
For this was a simmering hot summer afternoon of the year 1870, far,
far down in southern Arizona Territory; and here on a hill-slope of
the Pete Kitchen big ranch about half-way between Tucson town and
the Mexican line Jimmie was lying upon his back under a spreading
crooked-branched mesquite tree, lazily herding the ranch sheep.
The Kitchen ranch really was not Jimmie’s home. He lived with his uncle
Joe Felmer (not really his uncle, either), who was the blacksmith for
Camp Grant, the United States army post ninety miles northward, or
fifty-five miles the other side of Tucson.
But the region close around Camp Grant was a sandy pocket famous for
fever and ague as well as for other disagreeable features, such as
scorpions, tarantulas, ugly Gila monsters (thick, black, poisonous
lizards), heat and sand-storms; so that Joe had sent Jimmie down to
their friend Pete Kitchen, on a vacation.
Everybody, American, Mexican and Indian, in southern Arizona, knew the
Pete Kitchen ranch. It was noted for its battles with the Apaches who,
passing back and forth on their raids out of the mountains of Arizona
and Mexico both, were likely to plunder and kill, at any time. Sturdy
Pete had not been driven away yet, and did not propose to be driven
away.
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