The Arizona sentinel., 1877-07-14
CACHISE.
BY W. S. oURY.
TContinued from the Star.l

d tTdlU Ol Illu6 WdSUuSi SO1hS OaOo, arrived in the Pass and camp. ed about two miles west of the stage station. Poor men, they never dreamed of the cruel fate that was to overtake them an hour or so later. The owner of the train was New Mexican,and it was on its way home with two Americans travelling with it to the Rio Grande. About dusk Cachise with his red devils stole upon these unsuspectiDg and unguard- ed victims, and all that was left to tell the tale of horror was the smouldering ruins of the wagons and the charred bodies of the men, who had been chained to inc wagon wheels before setting the train on fire, save that the Indians had carried away the two Amer jeans, and reserved them for a worse fate than that Of their poor companions. Just after these scenes of blood which have occur ed in such quick succession, let US ascend by the road, in our minds eye. to where, looking out of the pass upon the broad plain extend ing as far west as the eye can reach, speck, barely to be seen, under the glancing rays of the setting sun, is gliding rapidly toward that fatal pass. Hark! the savage yells of Cachise and his fellow demons, who with their practiced eyes have discovered that this speck, scarcely percept- ible to others, is the stage from Tucson. freighted with precious Christian life, whirling rapidly and all so unconsciously into the jaws of death. Now all is hurry and preparation among that band of savage devils, as they come sweeping down from Chiracahua's loftiest peak to place themselves in ambush safely and coOlly to await the approach of their un- suspecting victims. Can nothing be done to warn and save them? Will it not occur to the officer at the mail station that strong escort should be sent out to warn them and guard the coach safely to the station? Alas! he is young and inexperienced, his men are raw recruits, and none of them think of anything but the horrors which have surrounded them during the evening. Meanwhile the sun has disappeared in the west, twilight has faded into night, and now the coach is slow ly moving up the hill into the pass, every rock of which, on either side of the road, conceals the carcass of a barbarous foe. Now the stage has entered the pass, and the passengers are cheered with the prospect ofspeedy arrival at the station and the enjoyment of good supper. All Is mirth and contentment amongst them. The next moment it all is changed to horror and dismay; every rock sends a blaze of fire almost into their very faces, and now the driver, King Lyons, is shot, his leg broken, and he can no longer guide the team. Almost at the same instant one of the lead mules fails dead. and out into the deadly fire springs every brave man, some to cut out the dead mule, others to attend to the wounded driver, and quick as thought Wm. Buckley ascends the box, the team is all right, and away they go at lightning speed through a perfect storm of bullets which riddle the coach, but providentialiy no one else is hurt. Just ahead of them is very steep pitch down into a rocky ravine, across which a stone bridge has been built. Cachise with his usual sagacity has torn away part of the bridge, cal culating that in the velocity of the descent and the torn condi-