out a little gold right along, the ore running by sorting about 300 pounds per ton.

"One day in March a brother-in-law of Mahan, who lived at Weaver, came to the mine and brought us a letter from a man named James More, who was a partner of A. H. Peeples in a lot of beef steers which they were holding on Peeples' ranch, now known as Peeples' Valley. The letter was asking one of us to go to the ranch with two horses. A few days before this the Apaches had run off all the horses at the ranch, and King S. Woolsey and Peeples had organized a party to follow the Indians, and had taken all of the horses that were left around Weaver except two of the poorest which had been left at the ranch to drive and corral the cattle with. These cattle were easy to drive or handle on horseback, but would run from a man on foot, and the morning that the letter was written, the Indians had gotten the two poor horses from the place where they were staked while the men were eating breakfast. As soon as I could catch the horses I saddled and got to the ranch in time to corral the cattle that evening. I had been at the ranch three days when a man came in from Los Angeles, Sandy Hampton, a big Scotchman. I had met Hampton in Los Angeles when he worked for the Sansevein Wine Company. Hampton had a horse and mule, and More hired him to stay at the ranch so that I could go home. Hampton's horse was sore footed, and there were a lot of old shoes that had been pulled off of the horses when they were turned out on the soft meadow land of the ranch, so I undertook to shoe the horse before I left. As the horse was rather large, I had trouble to

get shoes out of the lot to fit him, but by using one that had corks on it, I made out to get the shoes on all around.

"Hampton himself had neither boots nor shoes. He had rags on his feet. I did not think much about the fact as I was nearly bare footed myself, but more than thirty years after I learned from a man who had traveled from Los Angeles with Hampton that they had met a man going out of the country shoeless and walking, and Hampton, having a horse to ride, took off his boots and told the man to try them on, and if he could wear them to keep them. He kept them.

"I returned to the mine after shoeing the horse, and, as we were in a bad place to stand off the Indians, we concluded to work what ore we had and quit the work for a while.

"William Kirkland and his companions were working a placer mine about twelve miles below us, and Kirkland had his family there with him. As there were quite a number of men and some good dogs there, Mahan concluded to take his wife there until we got ready to quit work. I will say that the Indians had been doing a lot of bad work in different places, and that the Mexican who brought the letter from More asking for help, had a fight with them and broke a leg for one of them, between Peeples' Ranch and the Montgomery mine, when he brought the letter. Our nearest neighbors to the north were two and a half miles away, and eleven miles south to Lambertson's, which was a mile from the Kirkland claim. Peeples' ranch was sixteen miles to the southwest. That was not a good place to have a woman to take care of.

"About the last days of March we got our arrastra cleaned up and cached what tools we had, and Beauchamp went prospecting while I went to the Kirkland claim where Mrs. Mahan was cooking for the men who were working the placers. The night that I got to Kirkland's, William Dennison, one of the partners of the claim, who, with another man, returned from Peeples' ranch where they had been after a beef, brought the news that Sandy Hampton had been murdered by a Mexican two nights before. The news had been carried to Weaver by a Mexican boy whom More had employed to stay on the ranch and help Sandy with the cattle, and a crazy white man named Jackson, whom the Mexican came near killing when he killed Hampton. The crazy man wandered from camp to camp and never was molested by the Apaches, and that day had dropped in at Peeples' ranch. The Mexican came to the ranch from toward Weaver just at dark. Hampton gave him supper and told him to stay all night. The house was a small one roomed adobe with a fireplace in one end. Hampton was sitting before the fire after supper, with his chin in his hands. Jackson was sitting in the corner of the fireplace farthest from the door, and the boy was sitting in the corner between the fireplace and the door. The strange Mexican was behind Hampton. All of a sudden he drew a long knife from under his sarape and plunged it into the side of Hampton's neck, killing him instantly I suppose, for he fell with his face in the ashes at the corner of the fireplace and never struggled. Jackson jumped for the door, and as he passed the Mexican he was stabbed in the back, but got out, and

he and the boy made their way to Weaver as fast as they could and gave the alarm. Men started at once for the ranch and a search was commenced as soon as it was daylight for the Mexican, but they could not track him, although he had taken Hampton's horse and saddle. The trouble was that the Mexican had saddled the horse and taken the trail toward Weaver, and the party from Weaver had obliterated the tracks when they rode and walked over the trail in the dark. The next day after the news came of the killing of Hampton, I, with G. H. Vickrey and two others, went from the Kirkland claim to Weaver, which is about fourteen miles by trail. We passed the graves of a man named Mellen, who was partner with Lehigh in copper claims in Copper Basin, and two companions, who were prospecting on the Hassayampa, also the new made graves of four Mexicans and a Frenchman near Weaver. All of these graves were quite fresh. Arriving at Weaver we learned that there was no trace of the murderer.

"I took our horses out to find some place where I could stake them on good grass, intending to stay with them all night and bring them in with me in the morning. I went out about two miles southwest of Weaver, and, finding a good place, I took my saddle off. While tying my horses I noticed that I was on a trail which appeared to lead from Weaver and Antelope Creek toward the sink of the Hassayampa. I examined the trail closely and found that the last tracks which had passed over the trail led toward the Hassayampa and were made by the horse that I had put the shoes on for Sandy Hampton some

time before at Peeples' ranch. I recognized it by the one corked shoe, while the other three were plain shoes. I at once determined to follow the tracks to the Hassayampa if necessary. I saddled up and took all of the stock back to Weaver, and told some of the people what I had found. I asked for one or two volunteers to go with me on the trail. The men said it had been too long; that we could never overtake the Mexican, and, besides, that the stock was all poor and not fit for a long trip, perhaps clear into Sonora, as it was evident that Sonora was where the Mexican was heading for, at that time there being no other places in Arizona except Tucson and Gila City, now Yuma.

"I inquired about the road and learned from a man who knew the country that there was but one road through the Hassayampa Canyon, where the railroad bridge now crosses, and about two miles below the Tucson road left the river and turned east, while the other road followed the river bottom. I realized that if I could get the tracks at or near the forks of the road, I should be sure that my man would go directly to one of the two places. I bought a few pounds of pinole, some pinoche, and a little coffee, and with a quart cup and canteen, started for the Hassayampa, but took the main road as it was quite dark and I had to depend on picking up the trail the next morning. I passed Henry Wickenburg's camp before day, and about nine o'clock in the morning I came to the forks of the road. Here I was bothered a good deal, as both roads had been traveled by wagons and ox carts. I had about made up my mind to take the Tucson road as being the most likely one