Deathly Silence Haunts Skeleton Cave

The Skeleton Cave Incident

By the time Hoomothya was eight years old, U.S. soldiers had killed his mother. And before the Yavapai boy turned nine, the soldiers had killed the rest of his family: his father, his younger brother and sister, his grandfather, his aunt and uncle, and five cousins. They died during a battle northeast of Phoenix that has come to be known as the massacre at Skeleton Cave.

For the rest of his life, Hoomothya tried to tell the world of the bloodshed from the viewpoint of the Indians. Few white Americans listened.

But Hoomothya had a particular insight into the deed. It was he, frightened, alone, and a prisoner of the Army, who led the soldiers to the site where his family and more than 60 other Yavapais were slain.

Hoomothya had learned to fear the soldiers and hate the white man the day his mother died: "I could remember when my mother was killed by the soldiers a few miles east of Mormon Flat, and [how] I had two children to... care for, a little brother and a baby sister," he wrote many years later. "I... know that incident as though it occurred a short time ago; it was an awful day for me after I had lost my poor mother, and I had to look after two children. From that time my father had bitter vengeance for soldiers and all the white people because the way the soldiers had treated my mother.

"When my mother ran for her life and crawled in a rock hole, she was pulled out and shot several times with bullets."

Following the death of his mother, he recalled, "My father with several others would go down the Salt River Valley looking for soldiers or any white men to kill."

Raised in a world of killing and dying, Hoomothya must have been terrorized when he was confronted by a group of soldiers on patrol in the foothills along the Mazatzal Mountains and was captured. It occurred three days before Christmas in 1872, about 40 miles northeast of what is now downtown Phoenix. He had been on a journey with his uncle. They had one horse, which the boy rode and the uncle led. Although it was just the first day of winter, snow covered Four Peaks, the 7,645-foothigh crown of the Mazatzals. That night Hoomothya and his uncle had built a fire to fight the cold.

About midnight the soldiers found their camp. Details of the skirmish are vague, but somehow, even though they were caught by surprise and outnumbered, both escaped. Hoomothya's uncle fled into the darkness, making his way through the saltbush and paloverde. The boy, abandoned by his uncle, looked for a place to hide.

"I got in a rock hole [and stayed] there all night without anything on me, nor any blankets," he recalled. "How I got through that freezing night... is a miracle.

"In the morning, at about sunup, I came out of [the] hole [as] I could not hear any enemies close by. [I came] to a little hill I had to go over, [then] I turned facing that lonely little camp where my uncle and I built a fire to lay by in the night. There I saw many men in blue clothing, and they made a rush after me, but I did not make a move. One came to me and caught hold of my little arm and pull[ed] me over the rocks and bushes. The men did not care whether I got hurt or not.

"The rest of the soldiers, who were over the hills looking for more Indians, came altogether. [They] did not see [any more Indians] as my uncle and I were the only two; my uncle hav[ing] made his escape that night. I was [a] lonely child captured by a soldier and . . . taken to an officer who was Captain James Burns of the 5th U. S. Cavalry on the 22nd of December, 1872. This date was recorded by Lieut. E[arl] D. Thomas, who was under Capt. Burns' command, who were from Ft. McDowell."

The capture of the eight-year-old Yavapai boy led six days later to the massacre at Skeleton Cave. On December 28, in the mountains around what now is Canyon Lake, the Army and its Pima Indian scouts, trapped a large band of Yavapais on the side of a cliff and, during the ensuing battle, killed them by the dozens. Many of the dead were women and children. Hoomothya observed the bloodshed and the memory of it stayed with him all his life.

In January 7, 1913, Hoomothya, by then known as Mike Burns, sent a letter to his cousin, Dr. Carlos Montezuma, in Chicago, disclosing plans to write a book about those terrible days.

"I will tell something about my capture," Mike Burns wrote, "and how I spent . . . that night before I was taken."

But Burns' manuscript was going to be more than just his memoir. He had another goal in mind: ". . . I am going [to] tell to the white people that they have heard only one side[d] stories of how bad the Apaches were to the whites; but [how] the Apaches were forced to be so; and they tried to protect themselves, their families, and homes and their land. And who would not do the same thing?" (At the time, the Yavapais were called "Apaches" even though they were a culturally and linguistically distinct people.) one side[d] stories of how bad the Apaches were to the whites; but [how] the Apaches were forced to be so; and they tried to protect themselves, their families, and homes and their land. And who would not do the same thing?" (At the time, the Yavapais were called "Apaches" even though they were a culturally and linguistically distinct people.) Burns labored some 16 years on his project. But of all the various adventures and experiences he chronicled, none was more deeply incised into his memory than what happened at Skeleton Cave. It would be a recurring theme in his writings.

Although his account of leading the soldiers to Skeleton Cave is questioned by members of the Yavapai Tribe (now living at Fort McDowell), his account agrees with a surviving Army report on the expedition.

The Skeleton Cave battle came at a time when Arizona was experiencing rapid growth, and the influx of ranchers, miners, and other settlers was encroaching heavily on traditional Yavapai and Apache territory.

In turn, raiding parties of Apaches and Yavapais stole fresh meat, firearms and ammunition, and other goods from any vulnerable Indian, Mexican, or Anglo settlement, usually killing their victims during the attack.

As the intensity of these raids increased, so did the animosity of the early Arizona settlers. Both territorial and federal officials came under extraordinary pressure to provide protection.

In June of 1871, Gen. George Crook had been appointed commander of the Military Department of Arizona. His job was to control the Indians and pacify the settlers.

The military was aware of stories of a hidden Indian rancheria somewhere in the Salt River Canyon. The captured child Hoomothya, frightened and uncertain of his fate, revealed to Captain Burns at their first meeting the whereabouts of such a rancheria within a cave. Burns asked the boy to point out the location. Hoomothya led the captain to a ridge and pointed out what the soldier wanted to know. The rancheria site was not a cave in the traditional sense because it had very little depth. It was a hollowed-out spot under an overhang along a ledge that was long and narrow.

With Burns' command were 100 Pima scouts. The Pimas and Yavapais were traditional enemies, but when Burns ordered the scouts to lead him and his troops to the site, they balked, fearing the rancheria would be well protected and give the advantage to the Yavapais. Eventually Burns persuaded them to go along.

Burns, the troops, his prisoner, and the scouts went to the confluence of Tonto Creek and the Salt River where the column met two troops of the Fifth U. S. Cavalry out of Camp Grant. They were commanded by Capt. William H. Brown. In his report, Burns wrote that he "... reported to [Captain Brown] what I knew of the rancheria.... I took the Tonto [Yavapai] boy and had him tell [brevet] Maj. Brown's Apache soldiers where the Rancheria was and then Maj. Brown & I concluded to combine both commands and go for the place . . ."

scouts went to the confluence of Tonto Creek and the Salt River where the column met two troops of the Fifth U. S. Cavalry out of Camp Grant. They were commanded by Capt. William H. Brown. In his report, Burns wrote that he "... reported to [Captain Brown] what I knew of the rancheria.... I took the Tonto [Yavapai] boy and had him tell [brevet] Maj. Brown's Apache soldiers where the Rancheria was and then Maj. Brown & I concluded to combine both commands and go for the place . . ."

The decision to attack the rancheria was made on Christmas day. Brown's command included Apache and Yavapai scouts, and one of them warned Brown that the climb to the site was extremely dangerous and would be worse coming back down. Once the fighting started, Brown was told, all the Yavapais had to be killed or the cavalry and scouts might not be able to escape from the precipice.

Attached to Brown's command was John Gregory Bourke, a young second lieutenant recently graduated from West Point and assigned to the Third U. S. Cavalry. Bourke maintained a diary, and it is through his journal that the details of the Skeleton Cave action are known.

The cavalry's lengthy search for the rancheria began at 12:40 P.M. on Friday, December 27. Bourke noted that Brown had reason to believe that Delchay - a notorious raiding chief - would be found there. Perhaps Hoomothya's connection with Delchay's band might have been the basis for this assumption, which would prove to be false. The troops began the long, arduous climb. The command often halted to allow the mule train carrying supplies to catch up. During the ascent, Hoomothya had time to reflect: "It was now nearly a week since my capture, and I thought my people ought to know the danger they were in and had left the old camp. They ought to suspect that if I had been taken alive, I would surely lead the enemies back the road I had come . . . . I talked with an Apache-Mojave (a Yavapai scout whom Hoomothya considered a "friend"), and he told a San Carlos (Apache) Indian what I said, who told a Mexican who spoke the Tinne ("Apache") language. He in turn spoke in his own tongue to another Mexican who told in the English language what I said.

"My friend told me that we were bound to show the soldiers the way of our trails that led to the camps of our people. We must tell the truth about their hiding places else we could be put to death. They had us anyway, and we could do nothing else but yield to the command of the soldiers; furthermore, our people would be hunted down sooner or later, and there was no escape for them.

Captain Brown, for reasons which are not clear today, decided the fighting had to come to an end.

"...The commander said they wanted to catch that chief Delchay and the whole of his band because they were the ones that were making all the troubles, and it was time that his whole band be taken, and the sooner this was done the better for all the Indians in Arizona.

"I told [the soldiers what I knew] the best way I could, thinking that my uncle had gone back and my people had moved."

During the slow climb, Bourke noted, "Trail today very bad in every sense of the word. We have not only to climb steep mountains, but had an unusual amount of climbing to do and the trails being filled with loose sharp stone, our animals with difficulty picked their way." As the troops worked themselves hundreds of feet above the Salt River, Bourke finally caught a glimpse of the command's objective: "We are now in Sight of the high mesa Mountain on the summit of which Delchay has his Stronghold, so we are compelled to Exercise great caution in our movements. No fires are allowed; the horses and mules are strictly guarded in order that they may not climb up on any of [the] hills commanded by Delchay's mt'ns. In the meantime, every preparation is being made for a night march on foot."

The troops began the last part of the climb at 8:00 P.M., reaching the summit 4 1/4 hours later. The Apache scouts fanned out, and about 2:00 A.M., December 28, they reported fires in the canyon below. The men began moving into the canyon one at a time.

Just before an overcast daybreak, a few shivering troops started down a trail to examine the area. Within 300 yards, they located a small recently abandoned rancheria. Nearby were 14 ponies and one mule, all showing signs of being recently driven to the area at great speed. Chunks of cholla and cactus barbs remained in their legs.

And then the advance group saw another rancheria in what the occupants must have believed was an impregnable location. Celebrating warriors were dancing around a fire, and women were preparing food. The soldiers opened fire, killing six men and driving the rest of the band into the cave. As soon as Brown heard gunfire, the remainder of the command was ordered forward. Hoomothya was grabbed: "One soldier had me by the arm just tumbling me over the bushes and the rocks. He cared nothing how I was hurt or was killed. He took me along just like he was dragging a log. After the [troopers] got there they could not see the Indians."

The fighting started about dawn. Shots were exchanged with varying intensity for about four hours.

The Yavapais, although greatly outnumbered, seemed unaware of their predicament. Twice they were asked to surrender. Twice they refused. They had excellent reserves of food and supplies, and that may have influenced them. Finally, Brown, for reasons which are not clear today, decided the fighting had to come to an end.

The rancheria's cave was guarded by a large slab of sandstone, protecting it from a frontal assault, so Brown devised another plan of attack. He ordered his troops to fire at the walls and ceiling of the cave, so the ricocheting bullets would strike the Indians hidden behind the barriers. In his writings, Burns described what he witnessed then: "The Indians thought they were strongly protected but the soldiers were ordered to shoot down... behind those big... rocks against the walls of the cave so to scatter the glance of bullets down [in] such showers that just shattered [the Indians], so that they could not be recognized as humans. The war songs ceased . . . ."

Bourke wrote of the massacre: "Never had I seen such a hellish spot as was the narrow little space in which the hostile Indians were now crowded. To borrow the expression employed by a brother officer, the bullets striking against the mouth of the cave seemed like drops of rain pattering upon the surface of a lake."

The Indians soon were beaten. "Upon entering the Enclosure," Bourke wrote, "a horrible spectacle was disclosed . . . ."

The soldiers also took Hoomothya to the cave. There he learned firsthand that his family had been killed.

"I am . . . horrified to mentioned what has happened to my people in that cave," he wrote. "It brings tears to my eyes to mention it because the place where my father with 2 children, my aunt with 5 chil Children, uncle and my poor grandpa were all slaughtered . . . ."

"No more hope! No more kin folks in the world! What shall I do? To [give] myself up to the soldiers or to the Pimas . . . to be killed there with my family? Oh, Could someone tell me what [was] best to do? Whether [I should] kindly forget those awful deeds to my people and . . . take up a new and manly courage, and to resolve that I may be a different man, and only hope for betterment in the future?"

The Fifth Cavalry troops neither succored the living nor buried the dead but mounted a few wounded survivors on the 14 ponies and headed slowly back to Camp McDowell, where the prisoners would be held near the post's corrals.

Skeleton Cave was one of seven actions against the Apaches and Yavapais during December, 1872. In that 31-day period, 106 Indians were killed. Of those, Army records show that 76 men, women, and children died at Skeleton Cave.

In his writings in 1913, Burns asserted: "There is no history of a civilized race that they have murdered one another as the American soldiers had done to my people in the year of 1872. They have slaughtered men, women, and children without mercy . . . . I am the only one living now to tell about what happened to my people."

Author's Note: When Captain Burns learned that Hoomothya had been orphaned, he adopted the child. Lt. Earl Thomas gave the boy the name "Mickey" so that there would be at least one Irish Indian in Arizona. And ultimately Hoomothya became "Mike Burns." He obtained a basic education and then served as an Army scout during the Dakota Sioux wars.

About the turn of the century, a cowboy named Jeff Adams rediscovered the cave, which still contained the bones of the slain Indians. The name "Skeleton Cave" became associated with the site about this time. In the late 1920s, the Yavapais began to remove the bones to the Fort McDowell cemetery, where they rest today, marked by a simple gray granite monument. Today the protected site is above Canyon Lake and is a candidate for inclusion in the National Register of Historic Places.

Burns' manuscript ran hundreds of pages. He sent parts of it to publishers and other sections he gave to friends, hoping that somehow, someday, the Indian's version of the Arizona Yavapai Wars might be printed. Like many hopeful authors, he found little success, and some of his manuscript has been lost. The only surviving typescript of it contains major gaps.