the picket lines and were undisturbed. miles they had marched this day. Forty | ty-two prisoners and a number of horses. This, too, without a halt and without food. Tightening their cavalry belts to stay the pangs of hunger, they slept sound sleep, sitting upright upon their horses, during the hours of that last terrible night. A near carbine shot would rouse them for an instant, to a sharp wheel of their steeds, and an alert readiness to repel the enemy. But the danger passed they were asleep again in a moment, and riding blindly forward till the next shock. With the earliest dawn of the next morning, Saturday, May 2, they were again upon the move. They had marched but a few miles ere the Sixth Illinois, which was in the advance, surprised and destroyed a rebel camp at Sandy Creek. A few hours later the Illinois Seventh gave the grand, final glory to the expedition by capturing, within a short distance of Baton Rouge, forty-two of Stuart's Mississippi cavalry, with their Colonel at their head. In this raid Colonel Grierson rode eight hundred miles through a country swarming with foes. He had no other guides than rude county maps and a pocket-compass. He was, often entangled in swamps where many of his horses became inextricably mired. The men, thus dismounted, removed their saddles, placed them on other led beasts, and pushed vigorously on. All the way Colonel Grierson had to rely upon the country for forage and provisions. The necessity for rapid movement was such that they could rarely catch an hour for sleep. They cut three railroads, burned nine bridges, destroyed two locomotives and nearly two hundred cars; broke up three rebel camps, destroyed more than four millions' worth of rebel governmental prop Dusty, haggard, way-worn, and ragged, but with a wild fire of delight and pride in their eyes, these heroes, at mid-day of Saturday, May 2, galloped into the streets of Baton Rouge. The story of their arrival and of their incredible adventures ran with the echoes of their horses' hoofs, and the furor of wondering excitement was indescribable. Nothing like it had been known during the war. Seventeen hundred men had ridden through the entire State of Mississippi, from the northeast to the southwest corner, encountering every conceivable danger and enduring inconceivable hardships. Thousands of rebels had been trying to follow, to intercept, to find them. But with consummate skill and matchless bravery Col-perty; captured and paroled one thousand prisonel Grierson had escaped them by circuits, outwitted them by ruses, and attacked and routed them with far inferior numbers. Skirmishing through the day and marching through the night, burning and destroying thousands of dollars' worth of public rebel property in every town through which he passed, and paroling hundreds of captives, he still kept steadily on his southwestern line of march till the seventeenth day brought Baton Rouge in view. The exploits of Morgan, Stuart, and Wheeler, boasted as they have been, are as child's play in comparison with such a raid as this. The endurance of the lauded Southern cavalry has never been put to so severe a test as were the nerve and limb of Grierson's men in this exploit. During the last thirty hours they rode eighty miles, engaged in three skirmishes, destroyed large quantities of camp equipage and military stores, burned bridges, swam one river, took for oners, and brought in with them twelve hundred captured horses. Every where the negroes welcomed these heroic adventurers, and assisted them in every possible way. Five hundred of these dark-skinned patriots, men of bold heart and stalwart limb, followed them into Baton Rouge on horses which they had borrowed, like the children of Israel, from their old oppressors. General Grierson said that, in his opinion, he could have organized and brought with him two brigades of colored men if he had possessed the necessary arms. The moral effect of this raid must have been very great, not only in teaching the rebels a respect for the cavalry arm of our service, but in enhancing its claims to the respect of our own Government, who, in the earlier months of the war, were totally obtuse in regard to it, and were slow to learn by the severest lessons of loss at the hands of Stuart and John Morgan. We wish you well;-yet dearer to our heart A HACIENDA OF SAN ANTONIO. PLEASANT drive of two hours through | ed, amply recompense the labor and capital inthe beautiful valley of the Santa Cruz vested in them. The magnificent grazing lands brought us to the hacienda of the San Antonio of the valleys into which the spurs of the mountMining Company, now in charge of Mr. Yerkes, ains run; the abundant supply of fine oak timan intelligent American, who received us with ber on the foot-hills; the facilities for procuring great kindness and hospitality. The buildings provisions from Sonora, and easy access by good of the hacienda do not at present admit of very roads to the ports of the Gulf, afford them pesumptuous accommodations; but here, at least, culiar advantages, which would be greatly enwe found, for the first time since leaving Tucson, hanced if we possessed the small strip of territory a living nucleus of American civilization-houses extending as far south as Libertad. No traveler with fire-places and fires in them, rude attempts passing through this region can fail to be struck at beds and tables, and a people who furnished with the sagacity of the Mexican Commissioners us with wood free of charge, and offered us from in running the boundary-line. their scanty store of provisions whatever we needed. A mill, with smelting furnaces and a small engine, had just been erected for reducing the ores, and would be put in operation as soon as the necessary facilities for working the mine could be obtained. The San Antonio Mine is situated about six miles from the reduction works, in a spur of the Santa Cruz Mountains. The ore is rich in argentiferous galena and lead, easily managed, and will doubtless yield profitable results. It is questionable if the silver lodes in this vicinity will produce so large a proportion of rich ores to the ton as those of the Santa Rita and Cerro Colorado Mountains, but it has been well demonstrated that they are deep, boldlydefined, and reliable; and will, if properly work Mr. Yerkes gave us the only detailed and reliable account we had yet received of the assassination by the Apaches of Mr. J. B. Mills and Mr. Edwin Stevens, which had recently taken place in a cañon about three miles from the hacienda, on the trail to the Patagonia or Mowry Mine. At an early hour on the morning of the 29th of December, while Mr. Yerkes was preparing breakfast in his cabin, Mr. Mills and Mr. Stevens rode up and stopped on their way from Santa Cruz to the Mowry Mine. Mills was in the employ of Sylvester Mowry, Esq., the proprietor of the mine, and was about to turn over the management to Stevens, who had just arrived from Guyamas, in company with Mr. Samuel F. Butterworth, President of the Arizona Mining Company. The distance from Santa Cruz to the Patagonia (as it is commonly called by the Mexicans) is about fifteen miles, the hacienda of San Antonio being a little less than half-way. Some conversation ensued when they rode up, Yerkes pressing them to stop a while and take some breakfast before riding any farther. They said they were anxious to get on; but finally concluded to take breakfast. Both were in excellent spirits, and full of life and hope. Aft er staying about an hour they mounted their horses and rode off toward the cañon. This was the last Mr. Yerkes ever saw of them alive. A short time after two Mexican boys came running in, breathless and panic-stricken, stating that while on the way over to the mine, a little beyond the entrance into the cañon, they saw on the top of the ridge, which they had taken for safety, a large number of fresh Apache tracks, forming a trail into the cañon. They immediately turned back, but had not proceeded far when they saw two Americans on horseback rapidly enter the cañon. Suspecting that an ambush was prepared in advance, they shouted, "Apaches! Los Apa ches!" but owing to the distance, or noise of the | He lay close to a little arroya that intersects the horses' hoofs, failed to make themselves heard. They then waited a while till they heard the firing of many guns in rapid succession, by which they knew that the Indians had attacked the two horsemen. Mr. Yerkes and three American employés at his house immediately seized their arms and rode out to the cañon. It was quite silent. The dead bodies of the two young men lay by the road-side, naked and disfigured with wounds. Arrows were scattered around them, and many were found sticking in their bodies. Stevens was doubtless killed at the first fire. trail, and seemed to have fallen directly from his horse at the point of attack. The body of Mills was found thirty yards to the left, on the slope of the cañon, close by a tree behind which he had evidently made a stand and fought for some time. Marks of a desperate struggle were seen all over the ground. Both bodies were entirely stripped, with the exception of a portion of the boots, which the savages in their hurry could not pull off. Stevens's body was lanced in several places, but he had evidently received his death-wound from a rifle-ball at the first fire. That of Mills was pierced with balls, arrows, and | Delaware was killed at the first fire. Titus dis lances, showing seventeen distinct wounds, most of them mortal. A month had just elapsed when we visited the spot. Mr. Yerkes accompanied us, and pointed out each scene of the disaster. Abundant signs of the struggle were still visible. We picked up several broken arrows which had been pulled out of the bodies, some of them still bearing the marks of blood. APACHE BOOTS, HEAD-DRESS, SADDLE, ETC. The place was peculiarly adapted to an ambush of this kind. A thick growth of bunchgrass and oak timber, with patches of brushwood, covers the sides of the cañon, which are rocky and precipitous. The road winds through the bottom, coming suddenly upon a small arroya about four feet deep, fringed with sacatone, and crosses nearly at right angles. In this arroya, shielded from observation by the banks and grassy tufts, the Apaches lay concealed, so that upon the approach of their victims the muzzles of their guns could not have been more than a few paces from the bodies of the unsuspecting horsemen. It is characteristic of life in Arizona that both of these young men were well acquainted with the dangers of the country. Stevens had served on the Overland Mail route, and was universally esteemed as a brave, sagacious, and intelligent man. Mills had lived and traveled in Arizona for several years, and had seen many tragic examples of the cunning and cruelty of these Indians; but like all who have lost their lives in a similar manner, had become accustomed to such scenes. Men of this kind are too apt to rely upon their courage and fire-arms; when it is a noted fact that in most cases they are murdered without a chance of defense. It was still more characteristic of the country, as showing the recklessness acquired by habit, that scarcely two years had elapsed since Dr. Titus, of the Mowry Mine, lost his life in a similar manner, at this very place. He was passing through the cañon with a Delaware Indian, when they were waylaid and fired upon by the Apaches. The mounted from his horse, and fought his way on foot about two hundred yards up the cañon. He would doubtless have effected his escape had not one of the Indians crept upon him from the rear and shot him through the hip. Although the wound was not mortal he was satisfied that he could not get away, surrounded as he was by savages who were shooting their arrows at him from every bush. To avoid the tortures which they usually inflict upon their prisoners he ended his own life by shooting himself in the head. The Apaches afterward, in describing the fight at Fronteras, said they were about to give it up when Titus received the wound in the hip. They knew they had him then. The Chief said he was a brave man, and would not permit his body to be mutilated. When it is considered that the common practice of these wretches is to hang their victims by the heels to a tree and put a slow fire under their heads, few men of generous feelings will be disposed to pronounce judgment upon the manner in which Dr. Titus ended his life. Under all circumstances, I believe it is best that we should live as long as we can, for while there is life there is hope; but no man really knows what he would do in such a case as this. I visited the burial-place of these young men at the Mowry Mines. On the rise of a hill, overlooking the valley of the Hacienda, surrounded by mountains clothed with the verdure of oak groves, with an almost perpetual summer sky overhead, far isolated from the busy haunts of the civilized world, lie the remains of seventeen white men. Fifteen of the number are the victims of violence. from ordinary causes. Three graves, close in a row, prominently mark the ground-one the grave of Dr. Titus; the last two, covered with freshly-spaded earth, with a board at the head of each, bearing respectively the simple inscriptions: Only two of them died J. B. MILLS, Jr. December 29th, 1863. E. C. STEVENS. December 29th, 1863. A few miles beyond the cañon we came to a series of hills covered with a fine growth of oak timber. Here we found the first indications we had enjoyed for some weeks of life and industry. Cords of wood lay piled up on the wayside; the sound of the axe reverberated from hill to hill; the smoke of many charcoal pits filled the air, and teamsters, with heavily-laden wagons, were working their way over the rugged trails and bypaths. Gradually the road became better defined, and the clearings more extensive, till we came to the brow of a hill overlooking the hacienda. A more pieturesque or cheering view I had rarely seen. Down in a beautiful little valley of several hundred acres, almost embosomed in trees, stand the reduction works, store-houses, and peon quarters of the Mowry Silver Mines. Smoke rose in curling clouds from the main |