Hi-Jolly Monument Dedication

In the meantime the renegade Apaches were on their way destroying the finest freighting outfits on the road, twelve big horses, prarie schooners, and a trail wagon, the owner, a Mr. Gilson and son escaped when he heard the din and noise made by the oncoming savages. Old Bill had heard them too, as I expected, and hurriedly hitching his three mules into a "spike" team drove as fast as possible on the back roed to the Agency. where I found him when we returned from the burial. He started to tongue-lash me for not returning to camp to tell him of the situation, when Dan Ming turned on him and told him in no mild terms what a cur he was for sending me to find the mules when he knew there was something wrong when he did not find them all together. "And," he finished, "it would not surprise me a damn bit if you didn't hear the Apaches driving the animals away and you were too damn cowardly to follow them, so out of pure cussedness you sent this boy to find them for you." With this condemnation old Bill shut up. Charlie, his boy, told me later on, that as soon as it was good day-light his dad started to hitch up his mules, and as soon as they heard the shooting the old duffer started on the back track to the Agency.

As the day passed, people came straggling in, all telling of their narrow escape from the onrushing blood-thirsty Apache. The renegades passed within a few miles of Fort Thomas where soldiers were stationed, and continued on up the Gila river leaving a trail of blood and victims, then over into the Clifton, Arizona, section killing many in that vicinity, and finally winding up their murderous campaign in the mountain fastness of Mexico.

Night came at last on the Agency and with it came the most pitiful lamentations the writer has ever heard. It was the funeral rites and death songs in honor of the departed scouts, the wailing and weeping was indulged in by many, and the mournful cadence was accompanied by the howling of many dogs as if they were baying at the moon. Midnight and the Agency was quiet at last. I walked to the corral gate and looked out at the silent space where tumult and anger had ruled during the day; Tom McKinney, the mail driver, joined me and said, "Danny, I've a notion to hitch up the team to the buckboard and take the mail into Globe, do you want to go along?" "Go along," I cried eagerly, "hell, yes, anywhere would be better than this place."

"All right," he assented, "we'll hitch up at once."

Trail Blazer to be Honored

GOVERNOR B. B. MOEUR, officials of the State Highway Department, and other state and Yuma County officials, will be at Quartzsite Sunday, January 5, at the dedication of the Hi-Jolly monument, a project conceived and constructed by James L. Edwards foreman for the Arizona Highway Department.

Buried in a strange and alien land lies Philip Tedro, or Hadjali, the GreekAmerican camel driver, the last of his profession. Hi-Jolly, as he was called by the soldiers and early desert rats, was buried at Quartzsite in 1902 at the age of seventy-five. His grave went unnoticed for decades until Edwards included his last resting place in his program of rejuvenating the burial grounds of Arizona's most notable trail blazers.

In co-operation with the highway Department, It required four of us to hitch those mules to the buckboard, they were small Mexican broncos, high-strung and raring to go. After tying the mail sacks secure to the bed of the wagon, Tom climbed into the seat, gathered reins, and I quickly followed, then he told the two men holding the mules' bridle bits to "let 'em go." We went out of that corral gate like a quarter horse beating time, and as Tom turned their heads to the road leading to Globe we made the turn on two wheels. As I swung frantically to the end of the seat to hold a balance, I thought "Damn such a time, will the day's hazards never end?" In a moment the buckboard was righted partment, Edwards constructed the above pyramid, topped by a copper camel fashioned in the shops of the Highway Department at Phoenix. Arizona and California dignitaries will pay tribute to Hi-Jolly and the part he played in the early development of the Southwest, and historical papers will be sealed in the copper crypt designed by Edwards.

Yuma County was the scene of another important dedicatory ceremony on December 15, when the pontoon toll bridge at Parker was dedicated by state officials. The bridge displaces the ferry service which was started in 1915 by J. T. and Nellie T. Bush. The span connects Highway 72 with a paved road on the California side of the Colorad River running directly to Los Angeles and paralleling the Metropolitan Aqueduct. The project was constructed by Mr. and Mrs. Bush and the toll bridge is under their control.

Again and with those bronco mules tearing up the road at full speed I felt a great relief. To the east of us the moon on its half quarter was rising slowly over valley and hills, its pale dim light etching fantastic shadows over the battleground of the preceding day. To my awe-stricken mind the shadows took shape. I heard and visualized again the pandemonium and tragedy of those demon actors, and their triumphant warhoops and yells of victory went with me that night and through the years that have passed. That Apache Massacre was the most horrible experience I ever witnessed in my sixty years of life on the western frontier.

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