San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1883-06-14
"Where is Apache George9" HI

asked.
"Thats what no fellow can I'm
out" answered one Of the rangers
at least no fellow in the outfit. ID
was with us in the fight and capture
a squaw and papoose. We campe'
that night about q mile from wher
we had the fight, and next morning
George and the squaw and papoos
were missing"
Several of the rangers corroboratet
this story, and Mr.. Daulton was forced
to return to his sorrowing wife witt
the sad intelligence that nothing hat
been heard from their missing child
and that the only one who seemed
able to give them information had
mysteriously disappeared. The rang
ers talked a deal among themselves
about the desertion of their comrade
and the escape of the prisoners.
"There's something behind it all,
said one OF them, sagely, for it was
my guard; and when l reported to the
Captain he said nothing, asked no
questions, and didn't even send a
scout out after George"
Hell turn up again, never fear!'
said another, and sure enough he did
turn up about two months after the
return of the rangers.
In the meantime Mr.. James Daul-
ton had returned to the canyon of the
Lone Cottonwood, and erected an
adobe ranch-house. He saw the Cap
tain of the rangers a few days after
the latter's return from the Sierra
Diablo scout, and since the interview
his face looked brighter and he took a
more cheerful view of life. His wife,
however, mourned daily for the lost
one.
One evening, late in the month of
July, 1880, Mr.. Daulton was busily
engaged about his ranch, superintend-
ing the erection of corral. He saw
a horseman coming up the canyon,
but thought the rider one of his herd
ers and turned again to his work.
Suddenly piercing scream, and then
loud cries fell upon his ears and he
fastened toward the ranch house. As
he entered the hall by a rear door his
eyes fell on a picture that caused his
heart to leap with joy. In the middle
of the hall was his wife ON her knees
and holding in her arms the lost
Willy. The joy-crazed mother was
smothering the little fellow with kiss
es. The other children were clustered
around and Apache George stood in
The doorway, leaning on his rifle. 1t
was an hour before the people at Lone
Cottonwood ranch sobered down suffi-
GENTLY to hear the scouts story. He
told it modestly and laconically. I
nave heard him relate it a dozen times,
md give nearly his own words. 1t
was of little interest up to the time
If the fight in Sierra Diablo. He
followed the trail leading out of the
,ane-brake until it was lost in the
broad road made by Victories war
riors, Joined his company and was
with them down to the night of tine
Sierra Diablo fight.
II reckon I did my share of the
ighting," he said: "The Indians made
out little resistance. I took after a
ou and a squaw who had papoose
naher arms. My first shot brought
Town the buck. fired at the squaw,
out the shot was a bad one. 1t struck
Ter hands and wounded the papoose
n the feet. She dropped the child
ind ran into a little motto of timber.
The papoose was screaming at the top
If his voice. He was a little bit of a
elbow, and for an Indian, pretty. He
lad on a bright calico dress, and was
bout two years old, reckon. When
got close to him I pulled out my six.
shooter to kill him. He looked at me
'ort of pitiful as pulled down and
ny heart failed me. I put back my
pistol and picked him up. His feet
we're bleeding, and I wrapped them
I'D in my handkerchief. Then I took
lfter the squaw. She had hidden
herself under ledge of rock. I sat
Town the papoose and pulled her
,ut. 1 was just about to draw my
,nife across her yellow throat when
he papoose began to below. She
Jumped up and ran toward it. The
little devil held out its arms and she
caught it up, and began to cry and
Mss and hug it. That touched me
light here and the scout laid his
land on his heart. Il speak Apache
;olcrable well, and I told her that she