been seen by night. It commenced raining before arriving at the summit, and before proceeding many miles the traveling became very heavy. Pressing on, however, with the squaw as guide, I came in sight (about five miles distant) of a creek called by them the Rio Ancho. Leaving the train under Captain Ayers to come on leisurely, I ordered Captain Lent with fifteen men of his company to proceed cautiously down a ravine to the right and approach the supposed locality from the opposite side. Lieutenant Samburn with ten of his men dismounted I sent in the opposite direction with similar instructions. Allowing sufficient time for these officers to make the necessary detour, I proceeded in the direction indicated by the squaw, and after several hours spent in efforts to approach the rancheria undiscovered Captain Lent finally came upon it, but found it deserted, and on examination it was evident that the Indians had left during the preceding night. There were thirteen huts here of a more permanent character than those usually seen. There were horse and mule tracks going two and three together in every direction, but the falling rain nearly obliterating them rendered it impossible to pursue, beside the country hereabout was so completely covered with rocks and granite boulders that it would be difficult to follow a trail at any time. One of the men found an old rifle here covered up in the straw. Had the guide been familiar with the country, on what may be termed the side trails, I should have been able to discover this rancheria in time to kill or capture every Indian, as it was so located as to be easy of approach. Returning up the creek (Rio Ancho) where I had directed the train to be halted and unpacked, I camped for the night, rain continuing to fall. The nearest point of the Prieto was distant about fourteen miles. The river takes its rise in the Sierra Blanca about twenty-five miles east of this point, and running nearly south a short distance unites with another branch coming out of a spur of the Sierra Blanca. The first of these forks is called by the Indians the Prieto Delgado. After forming the junction the river turns first to the west, then to the northwest, and forms the main fork of the Salina River, and not the South Fork of the San Carlos, as has been erroneously stated. It is a clear, bold, rapid running stream, three times the size of the San Carlos; and although it only averages about three feet in depth at this time, there are indications that the volume of water flowing through it at times is very great.

At 6 p. m. I ordered Captain Ayers with twenty-five men to proceed to the Prieto Delgado, and reaching it before day, to send out his spies in every direction and endeavor, if possible, before daylight to find the rancheria which the captives promised to show in that locality. Although the trail was very muddy, rocky, and the night very dark, and after being lost for several hours, he finally succeeded in reaching the river, but could neither hear nor see any signs of Indians. Waiting until day he proceeded cautiously to examine the country, but found no recent signs of Indians or rancherias. It was not only impossible for him to cross the river, but the could not even approach it very near. From this point (the junction) to its junction with the Salinas I am informed that there are but two crossing, both of which I saw, and one of them was almost impracticable. The river throughout its whole length flows through the deepest and most rocky canon I ever saw. The sides of the canon are nearly perpendicular, and in some place nearly 1,000 feet high. No Indian can live on this river. All that are in this section of country must of necessity live away from the river in the ravines and near springs.