Wednesday, November 2, called about 3 a. m. by the officer of the day, who reported three men missing who had been relieved from guard at 2 a.m., and as their saddles and blankets could not be found it was evident they had deserted. The night was very dark and immediate pursuit was out of the question. At daylight sent out scouts to look for the trail, and about 7.30 a. m. found they had gone toward the Fort Cummings road. Immediately ordered Lieutenant Samburn, one noncommissioned officer, and ten men to take trail and pursue until he came up with them, but as they had stolen three of my best mules I had but little hopes of their capture. Awaited here all day to be present if Lieutenant Samburn should meet with unexpected success and return.

Thursday, November 3, Lieutenant Samburn not returning, broke up camp at daylight and proceeded up the river to the mouth of the Bonita, crossing the Gila several times on the way and entering the Gila Canon. Camped for the night; distance traveled, about twelve miles.

Friday, November 4, crossed the river at an early hour (fording very cold for the dismounted men) and ascending the mountain marched along an exceedingly rough trail, over high hills and deep ravines, which told heavily on the stock, and for the first time on scout was compelled to destroy a cavalry horse, which had failed entirely. It was a very weak and inferior horse, and I had expected to lose him in the either part of the expedition. Two old quartermaster horses used by the packers and herders also gave out, but were finally got into camp. The distance traveled was only twelve miles, yet it was of such a character as to be very fatiguing to men and animals. Camped at some water-holes about six miles distant from the Gila. Grazing good.

Saturday, November 5, marched at daylight and traveled about six miles in an northerly direction over a much better trail than that or yesterday, reaching the Rio Gila about two miles above the San Francisco. The guide not seeming to be certain as to the trail from this point, but rather urging that I should travel higher up the canon and over the hill to the east side of the river before making for the San Francisco, I pitched my camp and sent out spies and guides to the north, east, and west to search for a trail. In about tow hours found a good trail leading to the north and nearly parallel with the San Francisco.

Sunday, November 6, marched at an early hour, an on reaching the top of the mountain, beheld the River San Francisco, from its mouth to the mouth of the canon, miles away, although it may be properly called a canon the whole distance. Traveling over a ridge running parallel to the river, I at last descended and struck the river and crossed to the west side, but was soon compelled to cross and recross many times again before I reached camp, at a point which I denominated Aztec Fort, in consequence of the fortifications erected on the top of a bold and abrupt bluff commanding the entrance to the canon, this being the second one I had encountered on the march, the other was on the Rio Ancho, to the north of the Prieto. Considerable skill and knowledge of the science of attack and defense was evinced in their construction. Centuries may have elapsed since they were constructed, and unless thrown down by human hands they will stand for centuries to come. In crossing the river to-day and old, poor, and broken-down mule mired down, and not being able to get him out, ordered him to be killed. Distance traveled, eighteen miles.