ALONG THE WAY

Fort Verde Stroll Crosses Line Between Heroes and Villains Brave Men and Cruel Choices

I WANDER THROUGH the tidy, empty remains of Fort Verde, all mixed up about my hero. Should I admire Gen. George Crook, a tough, determined man of uncommon insight and compassion, who fought Apaches with courage and compassion? Or should I find the porch on which the bounty hunters dumped Delshay's head and pass silent judgment from the safety of my own century? Tough question. But then, if tragedy and irony bother you, best not to visit places like Fort Verde State Historic Park, the best preserved of the military outposts from which a few thousand soldiers waged the brave and terrible war that shaped the most enduring myths of the West and our national character. General Crook was an outsized, contradictory figure in that struggle, which included a bitter 1871-72 campaign based at this fort against thousands of Yavapai and Tonto Apaches forced out of their homes in Prescott and the Verde Valley by an inrush of prospectors and settlers. The struggle pitted Crook, who became the nation's most effective Indian fighter largely due to his respect for their culture, and Chief Delshay, who could never stay surrendered. The unconventional, taciturn, bearded Crook preferred canvas clothes and a pith helmet to a uniform. He responded to a string of attacks with a carefully coordinated offensive. Roving independent commands sustained by scientifically managed packtrains and guided by Apache scouts from other bands, clung to the trail of the resisters. The columns of troops covered thousands of miles in months-long campaigns, never giving the fleeing bands full of women and children a chance to rest or reprovision. Eventually, several thousand Yavapai and Tonto Apaches surrendered, unable to fight both the Army and the Apache scouts. Delshay, also known as Red Ant, was among the last to surrender. He deeply distrusted the soldiers, perhaps because his brother had been gunned down for no reason while visiting a military post. Delshay himself had been wounded twice while visiting encampments. Maj. George Randall reported that in surrendering, Delshay "said he would do anything he would be ordered to do. He wanted to save his people, as they were starving. He had nothing to ask for but his life. He would accept any terms. He said he had 125 warriors last fall, and if anybody had told him he couldn't whip the world he would have laughed at them, but now he had only 20 left. He said they used to have no difficulty eluding the troops, but now the very rocks had gotten soft, they couldn't put their foot anywhere without leaving an impression we could follow, that they could get no sleep at nights, for should a coyote or a fox start a rock rolling during the night, they would get up, and dig out, thinking it was we who were after them."

But after a short time on the reservation, Delshay fled with 40 followers. Crook called together the remaining Apache leaders and gave them an ultimatum: Bring him Delshay's head or he would resume war on them all. Some months later, as Crook sat on the porch of his headquarters, Apache bounty hunters dumped six or eight heads on the planking at his feet. One head wore Delshay's distinctive earring. Crook paid bounties on them all. Crook tried his best to honor his commitment to the Indians. The peaceful bands hacked out a 5-mile-long irrigation canal with sharpened sticks and became largely self-sufficient. But in 1874 a group of traders eager to make a fat profit by selling provisions to impoverished, reservation-bound Indians convinced politicians in Washington to order the removal of the 1,400 surviving Indians over Crook's protests. Many died on the grueling 200-mile march to the White Mountains. Crook observed, "Their removal was one of those cruel things that greed has so often inflicted on the Indians. When the Indian appeals to his arms, his only redress, the whole country cries out against the Indian. As soon as the Indians became settled on the different reservations, gave up the warpath, and became harmless, the Indian agents who had sought cover before, now came out as brave as sheep, and took charge of the agencies, and commenced their game of plundering." So I stood on the porch of his one-time headquarters at Fort Verde and tried my best to judge General Crook-who made his no-win choices in another time, in a different culture. But I thought then of Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq. Of misdirected bombs. Of hooded prisoners. And of the war that never ends. And the choices that never change. And

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