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.

I told Mike that we had best get the girl on one of our horses at once and be off to where Jim and the other girl were, and from there on to headquarters, for there was no telling how many more of the red devils there might be lurking around.  “Faith, Captain, and it’s right ye are this toime, too,” said Mike, “and it’s me own horse she can ride, the poor damsel.”  So saying he led his horse up and we assisted the young lady to mount.

As soon as we were fairly started I asked the girl her name and she said it was Maggie Gordon.  She also spoke of her sister having been taken prisoner along with her, and when I told her that Mary was safe, her joy knew no bounds.  This news so revived her spirits that she talked quite freely with us on the way over to where Jim Davis and the other girl were.  When we got to near where they were Mary looked up and saw us and exclaimed, “Oh! there’s Maggie!” and when they met there was the most pathetic scene of greeting I ever witnessed.

As soon as they had a good cry in each others arms we gave Maggie something to eat, after which we put the girls, one on Jim Davis’ horse and one on mine, and headed for camp, arriving there in the afternoon.

We did not go to the late emigrant camp, as we could do nothing toward burying the dead, burdened as we were by the two young women, so Lieut.  Jackson sent a platoon of soldiers out to do that last act of charity.

There were four families besides the Gordon family murdered, and those two young ladies were the only ones that escaped, so far as we knew.  When the next emigrant train came along we sent the Misses Gordon on to Fort Yuma, and from there they drifted on into California, and I never heard of them again.