She said:  “The girl will come to the berry-patch every day until we go there for her, provided the Indians with whom she lived would let her go, that she might be there to-morrow, and she might not come till the next day.  The girl is willing to go with you, and we will go to the berry-patch to-morrow and wait till she comes.”

The next morning the three of us started out ostensibly to pick berries.

After we were out of sight of the village the young Indian man took my Pinto horse and started in the direction of Fort Yuma, it being understood that he was to stop about half way between Fort Yuma and the place where we would meet the girl.  He was to wait there until the middle of the afternoon, and if we were not there by that time he was to return to camp.

Nawasa and I went on to the berry-patch, but the white girl was not there.  We had not waited long, however, until Nawasa looked up and said in Spanish, “There she comes now.”

I looked and saw the girl running.  She did not discover us until she was within about fifty yards of us, and when she saw us she stopped very suddenly and hung her head.

I did not know at the time whether she was ashamed or whether she had been with the Indians so long that she was really afraid of a white person; but Nawasa was not long in getting to her, and the girl would look at me and then look back, as though she had a notion to go back to the Apache village.

When I rode up to where she was, she dropped her head and would not look up for some little time.

I saw that her face was badly tattooed, but her body was not, and as she stood there, apparently undecided what to do, she was to me an object of pity, and her dejected countenance would, I think, have appealed strongly to even Jim Bridger’s heart.

I told Nawasa to help her on behind me, for we must be off quick.  Nawasa said:  “She don’t want to go.”  I then spoke to the white girl in Spanish, and said:  “My dear girl, why do you hesitate?  Get up behind me and I will take you to your own people.  Why do you want to stay here and be a slave for those Indians?”

I wish I could give in detail the persuasive language used by that untutored but kind-hearted Indian girl, to get her to leave the Apaches.  She would tell her that if she would only go with me that I would take her to her own people, and would tell her how happy she would be with them.

After a great deal of persuasion, as I sat on my horse I reached down and took her by one arm and told the Indian girl to help her up behind me.  She took her by the foot and helped her on my horse, and mounting her own horse we flew out of that section about as fast as our horses were able to carry us.

I was riding Mexico, and he was one of the swiftest horses in that country, and he had great endurance, also.

We rode some distance before I said anything to the girl, though Nawasa had kept along at our side, talking to her all the time to keep her spirits up.  Finally I spoke to her in the English language, but it was some time before I could get her to utter a word; I don’t know whether it was through fear or bashfulness.