The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-07-25

| ter was left on the ground except the contents of its paunch and a few splashes of blood. Then. each one car | rying a share of the slaughtered ani- nal. they climbed to the summit of the rough, boulder-strewn mountain. still in single file. and building n score of little fires that made no smoke to be- tray their presence from a distance. they roasted and feasted and made mer' ry. But all the time they kept A sharp
 look out: for from their elevation they could see far up and down the lonely
 road.
 Soon word was given that white man
 was coming down tho canon. and par ty of them descending the mountain. again waited behind the boulders. The man was on foot, and as he came near | CT they could see that he was n we'll formed. handsome young fellow. over six feet in height. and that he carried an ivory-handled six-shooter slung to the cartridge belt that encircled his waist. No one knows exactly what happened next. but 1t Is certain that he must have been startled out of his pres ence of mind-perhaps by their diaboli- | cal yelling or perhaps by an arrow whizzing by him-and failed to use his pistol. The tracks in the sand indica- ted that on coming opposite the ambush he started to run west across the can- on. and that fifty or more of the sava- ges took after him, catching him under the cliffs on the opposie side. This would never have happened If he had Iad fa he, would have been compelled to shoot him dead, and thus he would have avoided the awful torture that followed. The Apache has no intention of risking his life, and thousand of them would not approach one man in the open If the man had a loaded revolver in his hand and threatened to use 1t. On the spot where they captured him they stripped him to the skin. appropriating all his clothes except his stockings, which lat ter articles they left lying on the sand. Next they led him back barefoot across the channel, and up the rocky, cactus covered mountain to their camp at the summit, prodding him. no doubt, with their arrows at every step. They de- livered him, as is their custom. to the tender mercies of the squaws, and what agony he was forced to endure before death released him Is terrible to con- template.
 George Taylor was the eighteen-year- old son of the superintendent of Smiths mill. and resided in the building with both of his parents. He had been dis patched to Lambley's ranch that morn ing to attend to some work on the Hume which delivered water to the mill, and to turn on the water for the first mill run. P. w. Smith, the mill owner, had brought him as far as the ranch in his buggy and had gone on to Wickenburg, intending to call for him on his return that same evening. After completing his work on the Hume young Taylor had decided not to wait for Smith, but to return on foot, as there still re- mained several hours of daylight; though Lambley. who liked the boy, urged him strongly to spend the re- mainder of the afternoon and the night at the ranch. He could not be persua- ded. however, for, said he. mother will be too anxious if do not get back be- fore dark. She will think of Indians and everything under the sum-" That was the last seen of him alive; and the poor mother waited for him in vain.
 In due time Smith, stopped at Lamb ley's in his buggy, ana learning that the boy had gone. allowed himself to be persuaded into spending the night. Smith always claimed, afterward, that it was Ed Lambley's sister-in-law who decided him on remaining and thus saved his life. He subsequently mar ried her. The next morning at Smiths mill, Mcdonald. one of the mill men. had to go to Wickenburg. and saddled his horse at sunrise. The non-arrival of Smith and George Taylor on the preceding night had occasioned no anx- iety, as it was supposed they had re- mained at the ranch, and Indians were not thought of, since they were sup posed to be all under the eye of the mill itary on the reservations. As McDon- Cooper, fellow workman at the mill, 'I left my six-shooter under my pillow, but guess won't need 1t. Look after 1t till I come back" But Mac never came back. Death still lurked behind those fatal bouldefs,' and as he passed opposite them on his big gray horse there was a whirr of arrows, and he was sent to meet Gus Swain and George Taylor. That must have been about 2 o'clock in the morning, for at o'clock Smith came along in his buggy and, disceVering the two dead bodies. did not need to be told. what was wrong. :, 6 ,,A lo onIr to Lambley's. That he was unmolested was proof that the murderers had de- parted.
 The next day party started out to bury the bodies and to hunt for young Taylor or his remains: also to note which way the Indians had gone and whether they were still lurking in the vicinity. The party was a small one. for there were not many men in the set clement; but 1t was not their intention to attempt an engagement with so large a body as this was known to be. How ever, a swift courier had been dis patched at once to the military post at Date Creek, forty miles from Wicken- burg. The party, on reaching the scene of the murders followed the well-worn trail leading to the mountain top, where the Indians had camped. and there. sur- rounded by the clean-picked, bones of the butchersd mule. thay found the body of the unfortunats boy, stripped and horribly mutilated. Their ipdigna- tion and horror at the sight were so in- tense that not a word was uttered. And what made it more terrible was the fact that they could not comfort themselves with the thought tAAt these