Feed the murderers! Give them an opportunity to trade for and steal arms and ammunition! Clothe and protect them! Fawn upon them! Encourage them to new outrages! They have just gathered in their harvest of blood and need a short season of repose, and the sheltering arms of a fanatical Indian policy are ever ready to receive them. But it is not necessary that we advise or suggest further. All the hypocrites and idiots have not yet died out--which fact you will admit upon learning that a couple hundred Apaches are feted and fawned upon at Camp Grant. Two weeks ago they applied to the commanding officer and were received with open arms. Quite natural: the Apache obeying his treacherous instincts and the officer obeying orders! But, oh, what an affectionate embrace! "Bloody Eye," alias "Capitan Chiquito" clasping the proud Caucasian to his brawny thorax, and the august magnate squeezing the clammy, naked savage against the gold buttons of his waist-coat, while the tears spirted from their eyes like water gushing through a knot hole in the side of a bucket. It was a scene never to be forgotten; this meeting was. All nature [unclear] convulsed. The cats howled from sheer [unclear] and slapped each other around fearfully, [unclear] grunted, swine barked, and two Shanghai [unclear] commenced to gouge out each others-eyes [unclear]. There wasn't a dry eye in the neighborhood.
[The Weekly Arizonian, March 11, 1871, p.2]