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Nantaje, without a moment's
pause, rushed forward, grasped the trembling infant by the arm, and
escaped unhurt with him, inside our lines. A bullet, probably deflected
from the rocks, had struck the boy on top of his head and plowed around
to the back of his neck, leaving a welt an eighth of an inch thick, but
not injuring him seriously. Our men suspended their firing to cheer
Nantaje and welcome the new arrival; such is the inconsistency of human
nature.

"Again the Apaches were summoned to surrender, or, if they would not do
that, to let such of their women and children as so desired pass out
between the lines; again they yelled their refusal. Their end had come.
The detachment led by Major Brown at the top of the precipice, to
protect our retreat in case of necessity, had worked its way over to a
high shelf of rock overlooking the enemy beneath, and began to tumble
down great bowlders, which speedily crushed the greater number of the
Apaches. The Indians on the San Carlos reservation still mourn
periodically for the seventy-six of their relatives who yielded up the
ghost that morning. Every warrior died at his post. The women and
children had hidden themselves in the inner recesses of the cave, which
was of no great depth, and were captured and taken to Camp McDowell. A
number of them had been struck by glancing bullets or fragments of
falling rock. As soon as our pack trains could be brought up, we mounted
the captives on our horses and mules and started for the nearest
military station, the one just named, over fifty miles away."

This was one of the most decisive blows received by the hostiles. No
more murderous band had ever desolated the ranches of Southern Arizona.
It had been virtually wiped out by the troopers, who, complete as was
their work, lost only a single man.


A GREAT TRANSFORMATION.

This achievement may illustrate the manner in which the American
troopers did their work. A few days later a blow almost as destructive
was delivered at Turret Butte, and within a month a hundred and ten
Apaches in the Superstition Mountains surrendered to Major Brown and
accompanied him to Camp Grant. The Indians understood the character of
the man who was pressing them so remorselessly. They offered to
surrender to General Crook, who told them that, if they would stop
killing people and live peaceful lives, he would teach them to work,
find a market for their products, and prove himself the truest friend
they could have.

[Illustration: AN INDIAN WARRIOR.]

They accepted the offer, for they knew Crook could be trusted. Strange
as it may appear, he had all the Apaches within a month at work digging
ditches, cutting hay and wood, planting vegetables, and as peaceful and
contented as so many farmers in the interior of one of our own States.
This transformation included all the Apaches in Arizona, excepting the
Chiricahuas, who were not within the jurisdiction of Crook.

The terrible scourge that had so long desolated the Southwest was gone,
and all would have been well but for the vicious "Indian Ring" in
Washington, or, as it was more popularly known, the "Tucson Ring," who
secured legislation by which the 6,000 Apaches were ordered to leave the
reservation and go to that of San Carlos, where the soil is arid, the
water brackish, and the flies make life intolerable. As was inevitable,
the Indians were exasperated and revolted. They preferred to be shot
down while resenting the injustice than to submit quietly to it. Again
the reign of terror opened, and the blood of hundreds of innocent people
paid for the villainy of the rapacious miscreants who were beyond reach.


GERONIMO, THE FAMOUS APACHE CHIEF.

The most famous chief of the Warm Spring Apaches was Geronimo. Another
hardly less prominent was his cousin Chato, who joined the whites in
their attempts to run down Geronimo. They professed to hate each other,
but there is ground for believing the two were secret allies, and kept
up continual communication by which Geronimo was able to avoid his
pursuers and continue his fearful career.

General Crook took the saddle again, when Geronimo escaped from Fort
Apache in May, 1885, with a band of more than a hundred warriors, women,
and children. They traveled one hundred and twenty miles before making
their first camp. Try as they might, the cavalry could not get within
gunshot, and, though the chase was pressed for hundreds of miles, the
fugitives placed themselves beyond reach for a time in the Sierra Madre
Mountains.

But Crook never let up, and finally corralled Geronimo. He held him just
one night, when he escaped. The wily leader stole back to camp the next
night, carried off his wife, and was beyond reach before pursuit could
be made.

There was an agreement between the United States and Mexico by which the
troops of the former were allowed to follow any marauding Indians beyond
the Rio Grande when they were seeking escape by entering Mexico. General
H.W. Lawton (who won fame in Cuba during our late war with Spain and
still more in the Philippines) took the field with the Fourth Cavalry,
May 5, 1885. Lawton is a giant in stature and strength, with more
endurance than an Indian, absolutely fearless, and he was resolute to
run down the Apaches, even if compelled to chase them to the city of
Mexico.

And he did it. Geronimo was followed with such untiring persistency,
losing a number of his bucks in the attacks made on him, that in
desperation he crossed the Rio Grande and headed again for the Sierra
Madre. A hot chase of two hundred miles brought the Apaches to bay, and
a brisk fight took place within the confines of Mexico. The Indians fled
again, and Lawton kept after them. The pursuit took the troopers 300
miles south of the boundary line, the trail winding in and out of the
mountains and caņons of Sonora, repeatedly crossing and doubling upon
itself, but all the time drawing nearer the dusky scourges, who at last
were so worn out and exhausted that when summoned to surrender they did
so.

Geronimo, one of the worst of all the Apaches, was once more a prisoner
with his band. But he had been a prisoner before, only to escape and
renew his outrages. So long as he was anywhere in the Southwest, the
ranchmen felt unsafe. Accordingly, he and his leading chiefs were sent
to Fort Pickens, Florida, the others being forwarded to Fort Marion, St.
Augustine. Their health after a time was affected, and they were removed
to Mount Vernon, Alabama. The prisoners, including the women and
children, number about 400. A school was opened, whither the boys and
girls were sent to receive instruction, and some of the brightest pupils
in the well-known Indian School at Carlisle were the boys and girls
whose fathers were merciless raiders in Arizona only a few years ago,
and who are now quiet, peaceful, contented, and "good Indians." The
Apaches have been thoroughly conquered, and the ranchmen and their
families have not the shadow of a fear that the terror that once
shadowed their thresholds can ever return.


PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF 1888.

Although President Cleveland offended many of his party by his devotion
to the policy of civil service reform, he was renominated in 1888, while
the nominee of the Republicans was Benjamin Harrison. Other tickets were
placed in the field, and the November election resulted as follows:
Grover Cleveland and Allen G. Thurman, Democrats, 168 electoral votes;
Benjamin Harrison and Levi P. Morton, Republicans, 233; Clinton B. Fisk
and John A. Brooks, Prohibition, received 249,907 popular votes; Alson
J. Streeter and C.E. Cunningham, United Labor, 148,105; James L. Curtis
and James R. Greer, American, 1,591.

[Illustration: BENJAMIN HARRISON. (1833-.) One term, 1889-1894.]


THE TWENTY-THIRD PRESIDENT.

Benjamin Harrison was born at North Bend, Ohio, August 20, 1833. His
father was a farmer, and _his_ father was General William Henry
Harrison, governor of the Northwest Territory, and afterward President
of the United States, and the first to die in office. His father was
Benjamin Harrison, one of the signers of the Declaration of
Independence. Thus the twenty-third President possesses illustrious
lineage.

Benjamin Harrison entered Miami University when a boy, and was graduated
before the age of twenty. He studied law, and upon his admission to the
bar settled in Indianapolis, which has since been his home. He
volunteered early in the war, and won the praise of Sheridan and other
leaders for his gallantry and bravery. He was elected to the United
States Senate in 1881, and his ability placed him among the foremost
leaders in that distinguished body. As a debater and off-hand speaker,
he probably has no superior, while his ability as a lawyer long ago
placed him in the very front rank of his profession.


THE JOHNSTOWN DISASTER.

The Conemaugh Valley, in the eastern part of Pennsylvania, is about
twenty miles in length. The city of Johnstown lies thirty-nine miles
west-southwest of Altoona and seventy-eight miles east-by-south of
Pittsburg. It is the seat of the Cambria Iron Works, which give
employment to fully 6,000 men, and is one of the leading industrial
establishments of the country. Conemaugh Lake is at the head of the
winding valley, eighteen miles away, and was the largest reservoir of
water in the world. It was a mile and a half wide at its broadest part,
and two miles and a half long. Most of the lake was a hundred feet deep.
The dam was a fifth of a mile wide, ninety feet thick at its base, and
one hundred and ten feet high. The mass of water thus held in restraint
was inconceivable.

The people living in the valley below had often reflected upon the
appalling consequences if this dam should give way. Few persons
comprehend the mighty strength of water, whose pressure depends mainly
upon its depth. A tiny stream, no thicker than a pipe-stem, can
penetrate deeply enough into a mountain to split it apart, and, should
the reservoir ever burst its bounds, it would spread death and
desolation over miles of country below.

There had been several alarms, but the engineers sent to make an
examination of the dam always reported it safe, and the people, like
those who live at the base of a volcano, came to believe that all the
danger existed in their imagination.

On the 31st of May, 1889, the dam suddenly gave way, sliding from its
base, like an oiled piece of machinery, and the vast mass of water shot
forward at the speed of more than two miles a minute.



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