The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-08-11
THE SAND or AN OLD TIMER.
Fatal Bravery That Won a Rare Tribute
From a Band of Apaches.

Fatal Bravery That Won a Rare Tribute
From a Band of Apaches.
A company of ranchmen sat about the
railroad station in Pomona the other aft
ernoon waiting for the belated overland
train for Los Angeles. Every man in
the party knew the others, and there be-
ing an hour Or two to wait story telling
Of the early days on the border and in
Arizona and California came natural.
Stories of old times, when Indians were
bad and the white pioneers knew what
bravery meant, were related. John Will
son of Ell Monte told the most absorbing
story of the hour:
Talk about sand in a man, gentle
men! I am telling you that it takes sand
of the genuine article in any man to try
and stand off single handed 40 or 80
Apaches when he knows just how the
scrap will end. and that the end will be
his own death. But that was just the
kind of sand that was in Felix Knox
when he was killed by the Apaches.
You see Knox was an all round gambler,
such as the tenderfoot from the east
scorns so much and knows so little
about, but he had a heart in him bigger
than any tenderfoot's head. Well, it
was in the spring of 1879 Knox, with his
wife and baby and a Mexican driver,
was coming from Silver City to Clifton,
down in Arizona. They got to York's
ranch, which is on the ella river, about
30 miles from Clifton, all right, but
were told there that signs of Apaches
had been seen, and that they had better
go in camp there for a few days, but
Knox-who had fought the Apaches
dozens of times and didn't know what
fear was-said he wanted to make Cliff
ton that day, Indians Or no Indians.
"Well, the Knoxes drove on When
they were about two miles from York's
ranch, sure enough a big buck Indian
came from behind a low, round top
mesa. Knox knew there were plenty
more of the red devils hid there and
that it meant a fight to death for him.
He was as cool as a cucumber. He
jumped out of the wagon, filled his pock-
cts with two boxes of cartridges, and
then kissed his wife and baby for the
last time, but saying that he would have
the redskins quoted in a few minutes.
He ordered the Mexican driver to lash
the team for all he was worth and to
drive back to York's ranch as fast as the
horses could jump. Then Knox waved
his hand to his wife and said he was 60
ing to stand off a few Apaches, although
he was sure there was a big band of
them. AS the team and wagon flew back
to the ranch Knox, rifle in hand, started
toward the hill for his last fight. He
turned once and waved his sombrero to
his wife and child and then strobe on to
his certain death.
"The Apaches a second later rushed
out from behind the hill where they
were secreted. Knox faced his foes, and
standing stock still pumped lead at
them until he fell down dead. The
next day a party of us was made up,
and we went out where the fight took
place. Knox's body lay there amid the
cactus in the sun. The Apaches, con-
trary to their usual custom, had not mu-
tilated the fellows body in the least.
They had taken a clean pocket handker-
chief out of Knox's pocket and carefully
spread it over his face and had fastened
it there by putting a small stone on each
corner of it to hold it in its place and
keep the hot sun from the dead mans
face. That was their tribute to the
sand in Knox. Seventy empty shells
were found that had been emptied from
Knox's winchester, and one of the raid
ing Indians afterward said that their
party numbered 40 and that Knox had
killed seven of them.'-Pomona Prog
reSS,.