boys, and drive those skulkers from their holes, and the rest of you protect them while they climb," shouted McCleave's voice, well heard above all the din: it was done quickly and safely by several, although the climbing was hard, affording but little foot-hold for, men with carbines; but they got up somehow, and soon their ringing shots and triumphant shouts told of complete success. Four more Apache warriors paid their last tribute, and the rest of them fled in great haste, giving us up as im; practicable, I suppose, for we saw no more Indians during the rest of the journey. One incident of the last fight, seen by all the company, is worth telling: A man named Collins was among the climbers to the top of the rocks; upon getting there, he at once took post behind a rock, and carefully scrutinized around, but for some time without success. He was, however, in good view of his comrades in the cafion, who motioned to him that an Indian lay secreted in a certain place. Collins, now stepping partially out from his rock, raised his carbine to his shoulder, shuffled with his feet, and coughed. In an instant, the Indian raised himself to fire, but, as he did so, Collins shot him through the head. Loading quickly, he crept cautiously forward, but soon saw there was no necessity for further hostilities; he therefore contented himself with lifting the body, and crying out, "Stand from under, boys," threw it, amid loud cheers, to his comrades below. | will finish about Collins, by relating that some time afterward, at Fort West, McCleave issued an order, creating Collins a Corporal for his conspicuous bravery on that occasion. Now the duties and honors of a non-commissioned officer, to which he was thus suddenly exalted, had a most appalling prospective effect upon the gallant fellow, who regarded it as any thing but desirable; so, when congratulated on his promotion, he only
knitted his brows, and ground his teeth together, swearing, in irrepressible disgust: "I'll be d—— if I kill another Indian as long as I am in the service." The results of this fight were, two horses killed, and Lieutenant French wounded in the thigh. It was, though severe, fortunately only a flesh- wound, and he was not incapacitated for slow riding on horseback. After the skirmish, our guide, leaving the cafion, led us up a hill-side, ending in a somewhat level, gently sloping plain; then over rolling hills, covered with cedar and juniper, for about fifteen miles, when we were much pleased to behold, in the distance, the long belt of bright-green cottonwood foliage that marks the course of the Gila in its wanderings, as at a short way beyond its banks lay Camp West, and it was anticipated that, by a little extra exertion, we might get there that night. So we went on cheerfully, despite the situation, and eyes brightened, tongues loosened, and the hoarded "last bit of tobacco," kept for emergency, was brought out and passed liberally around, under the cheering prospect of many well-known, prominent landmarks, indicating our proximity tohome. But there came a sudden halt in front; something was evidently wrong; the guide seemed asionished and confounded, the Commandant indignant and disgusted; and, upon riding up, the melancholy truth came out, that our guide, in his eagerness to develop a new and short route, not having made due allowance for probable topographical difficulties, had brought us, by gradual ascent, to the edge of a precipice, skirting north and south, for many miles, the valley in our front, which, though it lay smiling and inviting, was yet impossible of attainment, unless we could safely jump five hundred feet of perpendicular descent.
If ever a body of men were justifiably disgusted with a guide, it was that body; and if ever a set of men were so satu
