Mickey Free rode into Camp Apache on April 27, 1874, with the bloody severed head of the renegade warrior Pedro hanging from his saddle.
The delivery of the head by the enigmatic scout to Capt. George Randall marked the beginning of the end of one of the most remarkable, and brutal, military campaigns in American history.
Eating His Words
Almost exactly one year before, on April 9, 1873, Arizona commander George Crook had declared an end to his first Apache campaign, which press and politicians alike had proclaimed as both brilliant and decisive. Crook congratulated his troops, who he said had “outwitted and beaten the wiliest of foes…and finally closed an Indian war that has been waged since the days of Cortez.”
Crook soon had his hands full with those he casually declared “my Indians.” The new reservation created by presidential envoy Vincent Colyer at San Carlos was an extension of the White Mountain reservation headquartered at Camp Apache, and it had quickly turned into an administrative nightmare.
Interim agent Dr. R.A. Wilbur, the former agent for the Tohono O’odham, had practiced chicanery for so long that fraud was his normal business conduct. His constant cheating of the Indians and the government in ration issues was bad enough, but he also meddled in volatile Apache politics at San Carlos in hopes of securing the agent position.
Permanent agent Charles Larrabee arrived in March 1873. The former Union officer learned that rumors spread by Wilbur about him had incited Chunz, Chan-deisi and Cochinay to plan to kill Larrabee. He had Aravaipa leaders Eskiminzin and Capitán Chiquito’s support, but Larrabee was determined to win over the recalcitrants by giving in to their demands for increased rations.
Major William Brown and a detachment of the 5th Cavalry arrived to back up the new agent, but Larrabee dismissed them. The Apaches feared troops who camped near them.
Scout Archie McIntosh, sensing serious trouble, urged Brown to stay, but the major did not wish to undercut civilian control at the agency. He did, however, leave Lt. Jacob Almy with 5th Cavalry troops to provide some security. This scared Eskiminzin and Capitán Chiquito into moving their people from the agency to the nearby mountains. They knew that trouble was brewing.
Bloodshed at San Carlos
On May 27, ration day at the agency, more than 1,000 Apaches gathered around Larrabee’s crude storehouse. Nearly half of the men were armed. After Chan-deisi loudly threatened the new agent, interpreter Merejildo Grijalva and a handful of troopers went in search of him. Almy rushed to the scene to join in the search. A shot rang out amongst the milling crowd, and Almy staggered toward Grijalva.
“Oh, my God!” Almy cried, as he clutched his bloody side. Another shot rang out, and the lieutenant’s skull exploded.
The soldiers opened fire, but the Apaches had already scattered. A shaken Larrabee promptly resigned his position and turned San Carlos over to the Army.
The laurels won by Crook in his celebrated triumph over the Apaches were rapidly wilting. Crook ordered Brown to take over as a temporary agent, but not to accept Indian surrender until the heads of Chunz, Cochinay and Chan-deisi were delivered. Crook meant what he said—he wanted their actual heads for public display at San Carlos.
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