tle boys from eight to twelve years of age. They were the brothers of Inez; and when they saw their sister, they sprung upon the saddle with her clasping their little arms around her, and like their mother, bursting into tears. Releasing their embrace, Inez pointed to us, when the little fellows ran up to our horses, and eagerly grasped our hands, trotting along by our sides, while the tears rolled down their cheeks. A little further, we were met by another lad about twelve years of age. He, too, embraced the returning captive, and like the others, burst into tears. But those tears were excited by feelings very different from those awakened in the other boys, the brothers of Inez. They were tears of despair of long cherished hope checked in the bud-of disappointment-of pain-of misery. This poor boy was the child of the woman who was made a captive by the Apaches, at the same time with Inez. She and Inez had left their homes together, one year ago this very day, for the fair of Magdalena, where their party was when attacked by the Apaches, and all but three killed or taken prisoners. Of the three who were made captives, no news had ever been heard; and the poor girl now returning, was the first intelligence that either was in existence. The little orphan wrung his hands with despair as he raised his eyes first to the companion of his mother, and then to us, thinking perhaps that we might have regained his parent, as well as her. I was much affected when Inez told me who this lad was, and resolved that I would make an effort for her restoration too, as soon as I could communicate the particulars to the govern

ment, as she is the person who was bought by the New Mexican traders, and taken to Santa Fe, a short time before the purchase of Inez.

"As we drew near the town, numbers of the inhabitants came out to meet us, and welcome back the restored captive. When about half a mile distant, Inez wished to dismount and walk thence to the church, that she might first offer up her prayers for her deliverance from captivity, before going to her home. Accordingly we all dismounted and accompanied her to the door of the church; and there she was met by many more of her friends, when they all passed forward and knelt down before the altar. We left them engaged in prayer, and waited outside the church until their devotions were concluded. They then passed out, and escorted Inez, her parents, brothers and sister, to their home."

In a note Commissioner Bartlett says that he has spoken of the father of Inez Gonzales; that he was in fact her stepfather, and named Jesus Ortiz; that he seemed ardently attached to her, and told Commissioner Bartlett that he loved her as his own.

Commissioner Bartlett also gives an account of the difficulties attending his first attempt to restore to their homes two Mexican youths, who had been captured by the Indians, and sought his protection. The interviews following, between himself and the leading Apache chiefs, show the position which the Indians assumed, and which they defended with a great deal of native ability. This incident occurred at the Copper Mines where the Commissioner was encamped, and of it, Bartlett says:

"Two Mexican boys suddenly rushed into the tent of Mr. Cremony, which was pitched in the outskirts of the place, and sought his protection from their Indian captors. He at once brought them to my quarters, and on being questioned, they stated that they had been stolen from their homes by the Apaches. One, named Saverro Aredia, and about thirteen years old, had been taken from the town of Bacucachi, in the State of Sonora, six months before; the other, Jose Trinfan, ten or twelve years of age, belonged to Fronteras, in the same State, and had been held a prisoner six years. Believing, from what they had heard the Indians say, who had visited the Copper Mines, that they would find protection with us, they sought our camp. They were both intelligent looking boys; their hair was cropped short, and they were entirely naked.

"When these youths were brought to us, Mangus Colorado and Delgadito, two prominent chiefs of the Apaches, and a number of their tribe, were present; they already knew of the escape of the prisoners, and at once proposed that I should purchase them. I declined, telling them that the Americans did not buy captives; and, furthermore, that having sought my protection, I should not deliver them up. In vain I endeavored to make the chiefs comprehend our treaty with Mexico, and the principles of justice and humanity on which it was based. They did not, or would not, understand and left our camp evidently much offended. I requested Mangus Colorado to come to me on the following day when I would endeavor to satisfy him. The day arrived, but Mangus did not appear; and I

began to be fearful that the friendly feeling between the Commission and the Indians would be terminated by this event. I received intimations that the boys were not safe, and that an attempt would probably be made to recapture them the first opportunity. Determined not to be thwarted in this way, I sent them off at night, well clothed, in charge of four resolute men, with directions to take them to the camp of General Conde, and deliver them into his hands.

"After the lapse of several days, the chiefs with their people, including the owner of one of the boys, again made their appearance. The matter was again talked over, but nothing was decided, and they returned to their camp. After several fruitless conferences of this sort, the affair was at length so arranged that the captives should be retained by us, and our friendly relations not be impaired. As this last discussion was one of much interest, it was taken down by one of the gentlemen present. I give it, therefore, at length, as the arguments used by my opponents display to good advantage their natural shrewdness of character. It was commenced by Mangus Colorado, who thus addressed me:

"Mangus Colorado:-Why did you take our captives from us?

"Commissioner:-Your captives came to us and demanded our protection.

"Mangus Colorado:-You came to our country. You were well received by us. Your lives, your property, your animals, were safe. You passed by ones, by twos, and by threes, through our country; you went and came in peace. Your strayed animals were always brought home to

you again. Our wives, our children, and women, came here and visited your houses. We were friends! We were brothers! Believing this, we came amongst you and brought our captives, relying on it that we were brothers, and that you would feel as we feel. We concealed nothing. We came not here secretly in the night. We came in open day, and before your faces, and we showed our captives to you. We believed your assurances of friendship, and we trusted them. Why did you take our captives from us?

"Commissioner:-What we have said to you is true and reliable. We do not tell lies. The greatness and dignity of our nation forbids our doing so mean a thing. What our great brother has said is true, and good also. I will now tell him why we took his captives from him. Four years ago, we, too, were at war with Mexico. We know that the Apaches make a distinction between Chihuahua and Sonora. They are at peace with Chihuahua, but always fighting against Sonora. We in our war did not make that distinction. The Mexicans, whether living in one or the other state, are all one nation, and we fought them as a nation. Well, when the war was over, in which we conquered, we made peace with them. They are now our friends, and by the terms of the peace, we are bound to protect them. We told you this when we came to this place, and we requested you to cease your hostilities against Mexico. Well, time passed, and we grew very friendly; everything went well. You came in here with your captives. Who were these captives? Mexicans-the very people we told you we were bound to protect. We took