 weakened by her illness and encumbered by her long dress, slowed the Apaches. As sunset neared, they halted on top of a ridge. The view, with a steep drop off to one side, was breathtaking. A warrior who had been acting as a rearguard clamored up the rocks to tell them that the White Eyes were coming in pursuit.
The older Apache motioned for Larcena to remove her dress. As she stripped to her chemise, another warrior demanded her shoes. He then ordered her forward.
Larcena had hardly taken a weary step before the first lance pierced her back. She fell sidewise down the cliff. As she tumbled across the rocks, she could hear Mercedes scream and the Apaches whoop. She lodged against a small pine tree, almost oblivious to the repeated lance thrusts from the two Apaches who had slid down next to her. One of the warriors picked up a large stone and smashed it against her head—then all was a blessed oblivion.
On the ridgeline, the other Apaches muffled the child’s anguished cries and hurried on toward the northeast. One warrior picked up Larcena’s dress, while another put on her shoes.
A Missed Rescue
In twilight, Larcena regained consciousness. She could hear her little dog barking on the ridgeline above her. She thought she heard her husband’s voice cry out, “Here it is boys!”
The men had been puzzled by the wild confusion of the tracks on the trail. The excitement of the dog had led them to stop right above Larcena, but in the dim twilight, they could not see her. Page had discovered the tracks of her shoes farther up the ridgeline, and he and the others hurried on in pursuit of the Apaches.
Larcena tried to call out, but she was too weak to make a sound. As the voices faded away, she slipped back into unconsciousness.
Captain Ewell had a mounted detachment in the field as soon as Kirkland’s message reached Fort Buchanan. Don Antonio Gandara, son of the former governor of Sonora, led a party of 28 Hispanics from Tubac, while the Papagos provided 17 good trackers.
On March 17, before dawn, Ewell rendezvoused with Kirkland and a civilian posse from Tucson on Ciénega Creek, some 35 miles southeast of Tucson. They could see that the Apaches had divided into two parties and headed north of the Overland Mail route. The tracks they were following were the articles of clothing Mercedes had dropped along the trail, as well as occasional sideward steps she had left in the soft sand along the flats. The other party of Apaches had also been tracked, but no sign showed Larcena with them.
Everyone assumed the kidnappers to be from Eskiminzin’s band of Aravaipa Apaches, who lived along Aravaipa Canyon where it opened into the San Pedro River.
Twenty Pinals captured in a December skirmish with Ewell’s dragoons were being held at Fort Buchanan. The captain compelled several of these men to act as trackers for his column as they moved north of Tucson into the Catalinas.
The trail led directly to the Aravaipa homeland. Ewell gave one of the Apache prisoners a dragoon mount and sent him to Eskiminzin’s village to open negotiations. Kirkland sent along two fine Mexican blankets to sweeten the bargain. Ewell informed the Apache messenger that he would wait for eight days at Canyon del Oro for a response, but warned him that any hesitation in returning the girls would result in dire consequences for the male Pinal prisoners still held.
A few days later, the Apache returned to Ewell with a message from Eskiminzin. They had not taken the captives, the messenger explained, but they could ransom the little girl from the Tontos who held her. The woman was dead. In exchange for the girl, Eskiminzin sought the Pinal captives and two wagons full of goods.
A grieving Page carried Ewell’s order south to Kirkland in Tucson, requesting he retrieve the Pinal prisoners from the fort and bring them to the dragoon camp. “There was no hesitating about acceding to the Indian’s terms, one sided as they were,” Kirkland remarked, “and every effort was immediately put forth to carry the agreement into effect.”
In Tucson, the general sentiment was that the Apaches were