Chiricahua Mountains, referred to the raids of his band in that country. He said:

"This is the fourth time I have surrendered." Upon which I answered: "And I think it is the last time you will ever have occasion to surrender."

As we moved along at a rapid trot, and occasionally at a gallop, I directed Lieutenant Wilder to ride forward to Fort Bowie and notify the commanding officers of our approach, in order that he might arrange for room at the garrison, and have accommodations prepared for the prisoners, and provide the necessary guards.

At Fort Bowie was a small garrison, and, like all the posts in that country, it had been in great anxiety, and practically besieged. No one could leave there unless armed or under strong escort, and the families of officers had waited day after day and week after week for tidings from those in the field. Lieutenant Wilder's family was there, and about the time he arrived, his wife, an accomplished gentlewoman, was taking a walk with her little children. It so happened that her little boy had run some distance ahead and out of her sight, to the outer edge of the post, just outside the buildings. As the gallant young officer dashed up to the post the first object he discovered was his little boy, and leaping down, the child and the hero were quickly clasped in each others arms. Lifting his boy to the saddle, he remounted, and with his son in front of him, rode into the post carrying the good news, the first joyful tidings to the young wife and mother being the sudden appearance of her husband and son together, the boy proud to bring home his father, the father proud that he, with others, could bring in their old enemies as prisoners. The news was almost too good for the garrison to believe, for it meant rest and peace, and the end of the terrible dangers through which they had passed.

On arriving at Fort Bowie, in order not to be disturbed by the civil authorities, or have any contest with them, I put a strong guard around the reservation, which was quite an extensive tract of land. The Indians were dismounted, disarmed, and placed under a strong escort, and on the 8th of September, under the charge of Captain Lawton, were started east from Bowie Station on the line of the Southern Pacific Railroad. As the procession was about to move from Fort Bowie, the band of the Fourth Cavalry was stationed on the parade ground, and, partly it is to be presumed through sentiment, and partly through derision on the occasion of the final adieu of the troops to the Apaches whom they had been hunting and fighting for so many years, it struck up "Auld Lang Syne:"

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?"

The humor of the situation was evidently not apparent to the Apaches, and they could not understand what occasioned the mirth of the soldiers. So intense was the feeling of the citizens of that community that when they heard the Apaches had been captured they consulted among themselves along the line of the railroad about destroying the supports of some of the bridges, and thus throwing the train down some precipice. But mindful of the fact that such a course would also cause the death of many brave officers and soldiers who were guarding the Apaches, they refrained from carrying out their purpose of revenge. Instead, they gathered in large numbers at the different stations to see their old enemies pass out of the country forever.

Many people who had lost comrades and relatives, seeing these savages en route to the far eastern country, were overcome by their feelings and their faces were bedewed with tears of grief or joy. A very great change immediately occurred in the values of property in that country. People who had abandoned their mines and had not seen them for months or years returned to them again. The value of horse and cattle ranches increased fifty per cent., as it was then safe for men to travel without arms. These Indians were for a time detained at San Antonio, Texas, but were subsequently forwarded to their destination in Florida.

I left Fort Bowie on the 8th of September, at the same time as the Indians, and accordingly did not receive a telegram concerning their disposition that arrived at that station on the afternoon of that day, and had no knowledge of it until the Indians had passed out of my department and were east of El Paso, Texas, en route to Florida, and I had turned north to go to Albuquerque, New Mexico, to conduct the removal of the Indians from Fort Apache who, under instructions received, had been ordered to be moved direct to Fort Marion, Florida.

While the above described movements were in progress, Colonel Wade was quietly moving the Indians from Fort Apache over a mountainous country, a distance of nearly a hundred miles, to Holbrook on the Atlantic and Pacific Railway. At Holbrook he found a train of twelve cars and two locomotives which I had sent him, and put the Indians on board these on the 13th of September. Twenty-four hours later I had the pleasure of meeting him at the depot at Albuquerque, and of seeing the long train loaded with the worst element that ever infested that country glide slowly past on its way to the East.

Thus far Colonel Wade had not lost a single Indian and did not lose one until he was east of the Mississippi River. Just after they passed St. Louis one Indian contrived to make his escape from

the train, despite all the precautions that had been
taken. True to his wolfish nature he succeeded in
avoiding settlements and people who
would be likely to arrest him, and
though it took him a year to work
his way back to the San Carlos reser-
vation, he finally succeeded in doing
it. Like a hyena he occasionally, at
long intervals, stole down upon the
Indian camp at San Carlos, captured an
Indian woman, carried her back up into
the mountains, kept her for several
months, then cruelly murdered her and
returned to repeat the same crime.
This he did several times, and his move-
ments were as secret and stealthy as
those of a reptile. One Indian girl

APACHE BRIDE.

whom he had captured made her escape and told of his habits and cruelty. This man was afterwards reported killed by United States troops.

The Indians on board the train had not the remotest idea whither they were being transported, and though every effort was made to reassure them and convince them that they would receive proper treatment, yet they had great misgivings and were in a constant state of alarm.

They had never been on a train, and some of them had never seen a locomotive. As they passed into a long tunnel in going eastward they conceived the idea that they were going into the earth, and uttered shrieks of terror. When the train passed

LITTLE MIKE, INDIAN BOY REARED BY Out at the other end of the tunnel many

of them were found under the benches.

After the surrender of Geronimo and Natchez, a small band of hostiles

under a chief named Mangus, who had not been with the other hostiles, still remained out, and to secure them I organized a force under Lieutenant C. P. Johnson, who followed them down through parts of old Mexico and back up into and through New Mexico. On the 14th of October, the Indians having been reported in the region of the eastern border of Arizona, Captain Charles L. Cooper, of the Tenth Cavalry, with twenty enlisted men and two scouts, in obedience to orders, left Fort Apache to proceed in search of them. About dark on the 17th, he found a trail going west. The next morning he took up this trail, following it as rapidly as the extremely rugged nature of the country would allow, and after going about thirty miles obtained sight of the Indians, and was at the same time discovered by them. He was then at the base of an al

FORT BOWIE, ARIZONA.

most perpendicular mountain, two thousand feet high, over the top of which they were just passing. He pursued them over this mountain and over five others equally as high, and after a hard chase of about fifteen

miles the Indians were obliged to abandon their stock, and again take to the mountains. But the troops were so close to them that their movements were discernible, and one after another was hunted down until all were captured but three, and these were soon induced to surrender.

The Indians captured consisted of Chief Mangus, two warriors, three women, two boys capable of bearing arms, one girl and four children of various ages. On the 30th of October this party left Fort Apache for Florida, Mangus and the two other men being sent to Fort Pickens, and the women and children to Fort Marion. One of the men died on the way but the remainder reached Florida safely early in November.

On his way east Mangus made a desperate attempt to escape from the train. It is almost impossible to handcuff an Indian securely, as his hands are smaller than his wrists, and on this occasion Mangus succeeded in removing his handcuffs without being observed. Then watching his