ARREST OF A NAVAJO INDIAN MURDERER.

LIEUT. E. H. PLUMMER.

The San Juan river forms the Northern boundary of the Navajo Indian reservation, for a distance of about 150 miles. Scattered along the valleys of the San Juan and its tributaries, North of the reservation, are the villages of Farmington, Olio, Fruitland and Jewett, N. M. Besides the usual village stores there are a number of "Indian trading stores," so called because the principal business of the owners is to trade with the Indians.

The agency for the tribe is at old Fort Defiance, Arizona, on the South side of the reservation, more than 100 miles, by wagon road, from the San Juan valley. Naturally, then, on account of the distance from the agency, the Northern part of the reservation became the resort of outlaws and those of the tribe inclined to be independent of, and rebellious under, Government control. Then, too, the situation led as naturally to the ever increasing boldness of these Indians in their petty thefts and depredations against their white neighbors on the opposite side of the river. White settlers were not allowed on the reservation, so an Indian might commit a depredation on the North side of the river and return to the reservation without the least danger of being pursued by whites.

This state of affairs was brought to the notice of the authorities in Washington, by the Governor and the Legislature—also by the Grand Jury of San Juan county, New Mexico; but when I took charge of the Agency, in April, 1893, nothing done by the agent had mitigated the evil, which, it may be said, culminated in the murder of L. S. Welsh, an owner of one of the Indian trading stores. At this time I had been in charge of the agency only a few days, and had not visited the Northern part of the reservation.

While sitting in my office, at the agency, one afternoon, I noticed an Indian standing in the road near by, at a loss which way to turn, and, evidently, the bearer of important news. I sent for him, and when he came in he handed me a letter from Mrs. Whyte, of Jewett, N. M., the "field matron" for the Navajos, telling me of the murder of Welsh, and urging me to come at once, for there was danger of a conflict between the Indians and the white settlers. The courier, I ascertained, had come through in the night, for fear of being stopped. I started the next morning for Jewett, arriving on the third day.

The reservation at Jewett extends North of the river, embracing a small triangular tract, in the Southeast corner of which a mission is located. At that time Mrs. Mary

L. Eldridge was the missionary, and Mrs. Mary R. Whyte the field matron. Mrs. Whyte's husband kept a trading store just off of the reservation, North of the river, where Mrs. Whyte lived; Mrs. Eldridge lived in the mission house. Jewett consisted of little farms strung for a mile or more along the North bank of the San Juan river. The scene of the Welsh murder was about a mile from Whyte's store.

We crossed to Whyte's store, where I learned the particulars of the killing of Welsh. Late in the afternoon I returned to the reservation side, accompanied by James Francis, a Government employee of the agency, the only employee located on the reservation in the vicinity of the San Juan river. His position was officially known as "farmer," his duties being to assist and instruct Indians in farming. His home was on the reservation, about 10 miles above Jewett; and will be frequently mentioned as "the Farmer's residence."

We moved up stream about a mile, and camped nearly opposite the scene of the murder. I was accompanied by the regular interpreter for the agency. After supper, Indians gathered about our fire, forming a circle. While the murder and plans for the arrest of the murderer were being discussed, the interpreter muttered, "I think he's here."

Before I could ask for further information, an Indian broke through the circle, crossed quickly to my side, threw an arm impulsively about my neck and commenced a plaintive confession of how and why he had killed Welsh; mingling with his confession a pitiful appeal for mercy. To feel the embrace of a red-handed murderer, a desperate Indian at that, gives one a rather peculiar sensation; but the importance of obtaining the confession and custody of the murderer induced me to appear undiscovered. He was known as Nesh-kai-hay. His wife soon joined the group and also made an appeal for mercy, sitting beside me, holding my hand, while pleading for her husband. Nesh-kai-hay said he would give himself up to me, to do with him whatever I thought best. The following day I had Nesh-kai-hay repeat his confession. It was, in substance, as follows:

"I went to Welsh's store to pay him some money on some beads I had pawned to him. I looked into the window. There was no one in the store. I went into the field near the house and saw Welsh at work with a shovel. I had gotten $1 on the beads and I wanted to pay him 50 cents toward redeeming them. I got into a dispute with Welsh about paying the money. Welsh

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RECREATION.

struck at me 4 times with his shovel, missing me every time. After the last time I ran to my gun and picked it up. When Welsh saw me pick up my gun he started to run toward his house; then I shot him in the back. He fell and my wife and I ran away and went back to the reservation. I had no intention of killing Welsh when I went to see him. I do not know why I did it. I lost my head. I am sorry I did it."

Nesh-kai-hay expressed his willingness to accompany me to the agency, or to any place. I designated him. I told him that, before deciding what to do with him, it would be necessary to move my camp to the Farmer's residence, about 10 miles farther up the San Juan, to enable me to get supplies and forage for our animals. He expressed his willingness to go; nevertheless, instructions were given to the Indian police to keep a sharp lookout to see that he did not get away.

While the team was being hitched to the buckboard and the police were saddling their ponies, a great many Indians crowded about us, and when we were ready to start it was discovered that Nesh-kai-hay had escaped. Though the Indian police were immediately sent in pursuit they soon returned, saying they could neither see him nor find any trace of him; for he had concealed himself in the breaks near the river, where there were so many trails it was impossible to follow his.

I subsequently learned that, not only had his escape been planned, but that a large party of his friends were gathered, under shelter of a bluff, presumably, to resist my party and assist him, if an effort should be made to detain him by force, or to arrest him.

I held a council with the Indians present, urging them to secure the murderer and to bring him to me, knowing as well as they it would be impossible, under the circumstances, for the 2 or 3 Indian police, with the Farmer and myself, to find the man, much less arrest him, unless assisted by the neighborhood Indians. After advising and coaxing, I tried threats, but was met with an impudent: "Pooh! We have heard agents talk before. You can't do anything. You can't get troops to come here to help you; that's all talk."

I ceased talking at once and made preparations to go to the Farmer's residence, to send telegrams to the War and Interior Departments, asking for the assistance of troops. From what I had seen and heard from reliable sources, as well as from the character and disposition of the Indians, I knew that, to accomplish anything without bloodshed, it would be necessary to have a force of troops sufficiently large to settle decidedly the question of whether United States authority over these Indians was to be maintained.

The nearest telegraph office was at Durango,

45 miles distant. I sent 2 messages by courier, and remained at the Farmer's to await developments. They were dated April 26, 1893.

The first was to the Assistant Adjutant General, Department of Arizona, Los Angeles, Cal., stating the existing conditions fully, and asking for at least 4 troops of cavalry. The other was to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Washington, D.C., advising him of the requirements at the reservation, as I saw them.

About 2 o'clock on the following afternoon, a courier, apparently badly frightened, came to the Farmer's residence and told us Whyte's store was surrounded by Navajos, who threatened to burn the building and to commence killing white people. Accompanied by the Farmer, I hastened to Whyte's, but the excitement was over. The trouble and alarm grew out of the Indians believing one of their tribe had been killed by whites, in revenge for the murder of Welsh. (It is still believed by Indians in that vicinity that the other traders put down the price of wool, and have kept it down, on account of the murder of one of their number by the Indians.)

This Indian left the reservation late in the afternoon, leaving his pony with friends, telling them he would soon return, that he was going across the river to trade. During the evening his friends heard a shot in the vicinity of the store where he had gone. He failed to return to the reservation during the night and the Indians concluded he had been killed. A large party crossed the river in the morning and, going to the store, told Whyte and others if the white people had commenced killing the Indians were going to commence too, right there, and no white person should get away from the store or the mission alive.

In the excitement a boy escaped to the river bank, and made his way to neighboring houses, giving the alarm as he went. The whole valley was aroused, all the way to Durango, and by sun-down some 200 armed men were on their way to Whyte's store.

In the meantime Capt. Daugherty, a retired army officer, who happened to be at Whyte's, prevailed on the Indians to allow him to go to the store, where the killing of the Indian was supposed to have taken place, to make inquiries about the missing Indian. On entering the store, Capt. Daugherty saw the Indian and immediately returned with him to Whyte's. When his bloodthirsty friends were convinced of their mistake, they sullenly dispersed. Sheriff Dustin, of San Juan county, New Mexico, with a large party, remained at Whyte's all night, fearing the Indians might return, under some pretext, and not again be so easily restrained. There was now wild excitement throughout the San Juan valley and the adjacent country, and exaggerated ac-