Four miles’ ride brought us out of the timber into an open prairie, with low hills covered with bunch-grass, and here and there a bunch of prickly pears, so rank that one dared not attempt to ride through them.  There were little mountain streams running through the country, with no kind of timber but willows, strewn here and there along the banks.

On we went, over the hills and across the valleys, putting our horses down to what they could stand and at the same time keeping a sharp lookout behind to see if the Indians were trailing us.

Our course for the first twenty miles, to where we met the young Indian, was a little north of west, and from there almost due west.

About two o’clock we arrived at the point where we were to meet the young Indian, and found him there, waiting.

We dismounted, and I was not long in changing my saddle from Mexico to my Pinto horse.  This horse would weigh nearly eleven hundred pounds, and had good life and splendid bottom.

By this time the white girl was beginning to talk some.

After having my saddle changed and on my horse, the Indian girl told her she would go no farther with us.  She told Nawasa that she was afraid to go with me, as she was afraid that I would take her to Mexico and sell her for a slave, where she would have to work in the fields.  But Nawasa assured her there was no danger, saying:  “Esta umbra mooly ah-me-go,” meaning, “This man is a great friend of mine;” and she again told her not to be afraid, for I would take her to her own people.

This seemed to give her some encouragement.

After the young Indian had shown me the direction to Fort Yuma, by landmarks, etc., I asked him how far it was.

He stepped out by the side of my horse, and after taking a good look at him, said in Spanish:  “About three hours, or perhaps three and a half.”  I then told Nawasa to help the girl up again, and she did so.

When we were about to start, the two Indians came up to us and said:  “Adios anlyose,” which means, “Good-bye, my friend;” at the same time shaking hands with us both.

After riding a short distance I commenced talking to her in our own language.

It seemed that she had almost forgotten English, and when she would try to talk it she could not join the words together so as to make much sense of it.  It was hard to understand her, but between English and Spanish together she could manage to talk so that I was able to understand her.  However, her English seemed to improve by degrees, and I asked her if she would not be glad to get back to her own people, so they could dress her up and make a lady of her.

I do not believe that the poor girl had really thought of or realized her nude condition.

She said:  “No, I can never be a white girl,” and at the same time commenced crying, and said in broken English, “Now I remember seeing my mother dressed all nice, and plenty more women all dressed nice.”  It seemed after talking to her in her own language a short time she could call back to memory things that she had forgotten altogether.