There was a dull
red glow against the sky, that told only too well what we should find.
The place had not been as well protected as Blue Field, and the
slaughter was something fearful. The depot was nothing but a smoldering
mass of ruins, and but a short distance away we came upon the bodies of
Baird, his wife and two children, shot to pieces, stripped, horribly
mutilated and scalped. It was sickening, and shortly after, when the
troop train pulled out for Chiquito, the sense of loneliness was
oppressing. A few people had escaped by hiding in obscure places and
when they came out they went to work and buried the dead. I finally
succeeded in getting a wire through and then, despite the heat, I slept.
The next day the troops corralled the Indians, gave them a good licking
and sent them back to their old reservations. And yet in face of just
such incidents as these, there are people who say that poor Lo can be
civilized.
A construction gang came out and started to re-build, and the company
offered me a good day office if I would remain, but Nay! Nay! I had had
all I wanted of Arizona, and I went back to Texas, thankful that I had a
whole skin and a full shock of red hair.
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