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Another Massacre.--A correspondent of the St. Louis Republican, writing from
Tucson, Arizona, under date of the 25th ult., furnishes the following particulars of the latest massacre:
Last evening a party returned who had gone out to the aid of several persons en route for
Fort Breckinridge.
Intelligence had reached us the day previously that the party, consisting of six men, in charge of an ox-wagon laden with provisions, had been attacked and routed.
Four of the men had come in, each giving a different account as to the number of
Indians, and all ignorant of the fate of the missing men. The scout of citizens which went out from here found the remains of the wagon at the spot indicated.
The road at that point runs along a ridge, upon one side of which is a precipitate bank.
They there found eighteen holes in the ground, which had been dug by the Indians as hiding places, and as the wagon approached they were enabled to fire upon them without being themselves observed in the darkness of early night.
The two missing men were riding in front, driving some loose stock, while the remainder of the party were with the wagon, which contained about $1,800 worth of goods.
But one volley was fired by the Indians.
The two
Americans in front, as ascertained by following their trail, were both wounded, and their horses taking fright, ran down the precipitous bank, and kept along the ravine several hundred yards, when the horsemen halted, as is supposed, unable to ride further.
The body of one, John Page, was found on this spot.
The blankets, pistol and knife of his companion were also found, but he and his horse were both missing.
Page's horse had been killed, and, as it appeared, by the missing man, in order to quench his thirst by a drink of the animal's blood.
He had stayed with Page till the spark of life had fled, and then gone off in search of sustenance.
It is not thought he was mortally wounded, as his activity was too great for one in the throes of death.
He had ungirded the saddle from his horse in order to obtain his blankets, which he was packing in that manner, and it is supposed the animal took fright and ran away.
The saddle was found near by. He has probably started afoot for the pass, but whether he reached it finally, or died upon the way, we do not know.
Page was the husband of the young woman who was taken captive by the Indians nearly a year ago, and whose wonderful narrative of sufferings during the sixteen days in which she subsisted on roots and grass, when left for dead, naked and wounded, by the savages, was the sensation item of the press for some weeks.
