"'You will soon make a journey to the west and there, in the shadow of a place of death, you will find two treasures, one of silver and the other of gold. Choose well between the two and----" "By grab, that's right, boy!" exclaimed Old Bunk enthusiastically, "she described this place down to a hickey. You came west from Globe and when you went by here the shadow was still on those hills; and as for a place of death, Apache Leap got its name from the Indians that jumped over that cliff. Say, you could hunt all over Arizona and not find another place that came within a mile of it!" "That's right," mused Big Boy, "but I was thinking all the time that that place of death would be a graveyard." "Sure, but how could a graveyard cast a shadow--they're always on level ground. No, I'm telling you, boy, that there cliff is the place--lemme tell you how it got its name. A long time ago when the Indians were bad they had a soldiers' post right here where this town stands, and they kept a lookout up on the Picket Post butte, where they could heliograph clear down to Tucson. Well, every time a bunch of Indians would go down out of the hills to raid some wagon-train on the trail this lookout would see them and signal Tucson and the soldiers would do the rest. It got so bymeby the Indians couldn't do anything and at last Old Cochise got together about eight hundred Apaches and came over to wipe out the post. It looked easy at the time, because there was less than two hundred men, but the major in command was a fighting fool and didn't know when he was whipped. The Apaches all gathered up on the top of those high cliffs--it's flat on the upper side--and one night when their signal fires had burned down the soldiers sneaked around behind them. And then, just at dawn, they fired a volley and made a rush for the camp; and before they knowed it about two hundred Indians had jumped clean over the cliff. They killed the rest of them--all but two or three bucks that fought their way through the line--and now, by grab, you couldn't get an Indian up there if you'd offer him a quart of whiskey. It's sure bad medicine for Apaches." "Isn't it wonderful!" exclaimed Big Boy, "there's no use talking--this sure is the place of death. And say, next time you go over to Globe you go and see Mother Trigedgo--I just want to tell you what she did!" "All right," sighed Old Bunk, who preferred to talk business, and he settled down to listen.