Mike was beside
himself with excitement.
It appeared from his story that upon reaching the top of the hill
after he had left us he came in sight of the fire and concluded to
investigate; so riding down as near as he thought safe he tied his
horse and commenced crawling. He soon saw that there were but two
Indians and to his horror he saw that they had a white girl tied
to a stake and were preparing to burn her. He crept up to within
about twenty yards of them and fired, killing one of the Apaches,
and as the other one turned to see what was up he fired again,
killing the other one; then brandishing his pistol over his head
he dashed up to the fire, exclaiming: "O, ye murtherin bastes, I'm
avin wid ye's now; Oi'll learn ye's how to stake a poor divil down
to the ground and thin try to burn him." Then he went up to the
girl, cut her loose from the stake, and she raised up in a sitting
posture, "Would ye's moind lettin' me help ye to yer fate, Miss?"
said Mike. "O, I'm so tired and weak I can't stand," said the
girl. "They have almost killed me dragging me over the cactus."
Just as I came in sight Mike fired two shots as a signal for us to
come to him, but I was there almost before the echoes died away in
the mountains. When I rode up Mike was most beside himself with
glee; his tongue ran like a phonograph, and within five minutes he
had given me the history of the whole transaction and had invoked
a curse on the whole Apache tribe from all the saints in the
calendar.
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