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Arivaipa Apache Tribe

Arivaipa Apache Indians, Arivaipa Indians (Nevome Pima: aarirapa, ‘girls,’ possibly applied to these people on account of some unmanly act). An Apache tribe that formerly made its home in the canyon of Arivaipa Creek, a tributary of the Rio San Pedro, south Arizona, although like the Chiricahua and other Apache of Arizona they raided far southward and were reputed to have laid waste every town in northern Mexico as far as the Gila prior to the Gadsden purchase in 1853, and with having exterminated the Sobaipuri, a Piman tribe, in the latter part of the 18th century. In 1863 a company of California volunteers, aided by some friendly Apache, at Old Camp Grant, on the San Pedro, attacked an Arivaipa rancheria at the head of the canyon, killing 58 of the 70 inhabitants, men, women, and children – the women and children being slain by the friendly Indians, the men by the Californians in revenge for their atrocities. After this loss they sued for peace, and their depredations practically ceased. About 1872 they were removed to San Carlos agency, where, with the Pinaleños, apparently their nearest kindred, they numbered 1,051 in 1874. Of this number, however, the Arivaipa formed a very small part. The remnant of the tribe is now under San Carlos and Ft Apache agencies on the White Mountain Reservation, but its population is not separately...

Santos, and Eskiminzeen the Stammerer

Far away near the Aravipa River in Arizona, one of “Uncle Sam’s” young officers rode at the head of a company of soldiers. They had marched eighteen miles already in a deep ravine, the bottom of which was filled with coarse sand. In the rainy season this ravine was filled with water, but now it was what the Mexicans call a ” dry arroyo, ” for there had been no rain for many weeks. Just at the mouth of this arroyo was the Aravipa River, coursing serpent-like across their path. It was not very broad nor very deep, but they were glad to see even a little water.  The march had been a hard one. Every step in the sand was like walking in loose snow, and the mules which drew the baggage wagons were tired and did not want to go. At sight of the Aravipa River flowing along between bright green cottonwood trees, the mules began to bray loudly and to pull hard to get their noses into the stream. The soldiers broke ranks and ran up the river, each to get a good drink of clear water and fill his canteen. A short way beyond was a beautiful grassy meadow, and here the little company pitched their tents, naming their camp for the great leader who had become our President-Camp Grant.  Now, six miles away from the cottonwood trees where the soldiers crossed the Aravipa River there was a deep cut or canyon. It was steep and high and rocky on one side, but so sloping on the other as to make a nice, safe sleeping...

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