Many of the Mormon Colonists settled in Arizona before jumping the border into Mexico. In reality there probably wasn’t much difference in pioneering a far-flung settlement in the Arizona desert to pioneering a far-flung settlement in the Sonoran or Chihuahuan desert. Both sides of the border had hostile Apache Indians and blood-thirsty banditos.
Here is a link to a Billy the Kid website which may very well place Billy the Kid in Arizona at the time the Farnsworth’s were living there.
Cabe Adams, Noted Old Cowboy and Texan
LaRue Lunt, son of Clarence and LaVetta Lunt, wrote:
Cabe Adams, a fugitive from the United States law, lived near the Villa Ranch and was a frequent visitor to our home in Corrales, Mexico. He had a “crush” on mother and told her if she would let him kiss her he would give her his herd of cattle. Mom was afraid of him and often had premonitions prior to his coming to our place and would make sure that Dad was going to be nearby during that time.
Ora Lunt Bluth, daughter of Clarence and Marza Lunt, wrote:
Cabe Adams was from Texas and probably a fugitive who came to Mexico to escape the law in the United States. He settled in the mountains above “Devil’s Hole” in the vicinity of the Villa ranch. Over the years he had accumulated a large herd of cattle. When I was a young girl, I remember frequent visits we had from him as he’d come to our ranch in Corrales, Mexico. I suppose he got lonely living way off in the mountains by himself and therefore liked to come visit our family.
My dad and Uncle Alma were good to him and would invite him into our home to visit and eat. They even had a can of coffee on hand for such visitors and would fix it for him to drink. It was interesting for me to sit nearby and watch him drink his cups of hot coffee, especially to see him drop in cubes of sugar to sweeten it. He had a white mustache that curled up at the ends and was stained brown around the edges near his mouth due to his pipe smoking habit. My mother was a young, beautiful woman and Cabe apparently fell in love with her. She was afraid of him and kept as many of us kids as possible around her whenever he came to visit. He once told her that if she would sit on his lap and kiss him he’d give her all his cattle. She sometimes had premonitions that Cabe Adams would be coming and made sure that dad was not away from the ranch at the time.
Cabe Adams died on his ranch in February of 1932. The following month, a couple of men came from Austin, Texas and had my father take them to see Cabe’s grave. They claimed they had been told to take possession of his belongings.
Florencio “Lencho” Estrada was now taking care of the Cabe Adams ranch and cattle. He had been raised and spent his early life in southern Mexico. At one time he’d killed a man so found it necessary to flee from southern Mexico in order to save his own life by escaping from the law or those who would seek to kill him. He came to the isolated ranch area in the Sierra Madre Mountains of Mexico where he lived and settled over near the Villa Ranch. He became a good friend of Dad and Uncle Alma’s and they enjoyed their visits and association together. Florencio worked as a cowboy for Cabe Adams for many years and accumulated a good sized herd of cattle himself. They were among the cattle on the Cabe Adams Ranch.
After hearing that Cabe Adams had died, Roy Adams Claimed to be a relative, therefore he and others came to the mountains, went to Cabe Adams’ ranch and rounded up all his cattle to drive them to their ranches near Dublan. At the time they came, Florencio was away from the ranch. Upon his return, he was very upset when he learned that all the cattle had been rounded up and taken, including those that belonged to him. He said they had no right to any of the cattle ad had taken them under false pretense. He quickly mounted his horse and with his pistol or gun, set out to overtake them. He quickly headed in the direction they had cone and caught up with them just before they got to “Strawberry” and told them he had come for his cattle. They were persuaded to let him take the cattle that belonged to him. Florencio rounded them up and drove them back to the ranch.
The following information is taken from the journal of Clarence Lunt.
Saturday, March 19, 1932
Alma went down on the Gavilan River yesterday with Delbert Palmer and Omer Cluff and camped out overnight. I was prepared to go down to Juarez for High Council. As I was coming from the barn to the house, after doing the morning milking, a Ford coupe drove up and stopped in front of the house and a couple of young men alighted and came over and met me introducing themselves as Misters’ Haley. One of them proved to be J. Evitts Haley, author of The History of the XIT Ranch and the same gentleman who came down here about 2 years ago and got Mr. Cabe Adams to go out to Austin Texas as a witness in a legal trial that had been launched against the publishers of XIT History. Mr. Haley said that he had heard of Adams death over in the “Devil’s Hole” and he claimed Adams had told him to take possession of his belongings. Haley had come down to investigate the status of the case. Mr. Haley said that Adams had recommended me as a guide in case he ever wanted to make a trip over to the Hole. He wanted to know if I could furnish an outfit and animals to take him and his brother over there. I informed him that I could. As we happened to have four head of saddle horses here on the place it didn’t take long to make the necessary preparations to leave. We left here about 10:00 a.m. stopping at “the bathtub” in Diablo for lunch where we found Alma’s camp. He didn’t show up until about 3:00 p.m. We arrived at the Villa Ranch shortly after dark where we were warmly welcomed at Andres’ cozy little log cabin where we spent the night. Andres served us with both supper and breakfast.
Sunday, March 20, 1932
We arose early shortly after daybreak and helped Andres prepare breakfast, or at least John Haley helped with breakfast, while Evitts and I took a few pounds of flour, which we had, over across the creek and arranged with Mrs. Villa to make us up a lot of gordas to take along with us so we wouldn’t have to bother about making bread in camp. After we had eaten breakfast, I went out after the horses, which I had some difficult in finding, thus causing us to be rather late in getting off. While we were saddling and packing up, Seferino, Andres’ brother, came over and chatted with us taking liberal sips of “Sotol” every two or three minutes until the contents of the pint bottles had mostly disappeared and Seferino was showing very plain symptoms of intoxication by the time we were ready to leave. We invited Andres to accompany us, which he did. Just before we arrived at Los Chales John shot a small deer which we sighted a few hundred yards from the trail. We finally reached Los Tareces about 3:00 p.m. where we found Mr. Adams’ grave, silent and lonely, on the mound of an ancient ruin. We all dismounted and stood in silence with bared heads as a token of respect to a noted old cowboy, frontiersman and Texan. We then turned off into a small stream to our right following down some 200 yards and made camp. The Haley’s and I walked on down a few hundred yards to the cabin of Florencio Estrada who has charge of Cabe Adams cattle and greeted him while Andres unsaddled the horses and started to prepare dinner. Just as we were finishing eating our dinner an old timer rode into camp on a bay mare who introduced himself as Van Lee, Adams’ old pal. He said he had heard of Adams’ death and had come over from Crettos Ranch to see what the status of the affair was. We invited him to camp with us, which he did. After chatting with Van Lee for a while, Evitts and I went down and spent the remainder of the day conversing with Florencio, listening to his account of the death and burial of Cabe Adams. As darkness came on, we returned to our camp where we found a fine hot supper of fried venison, fried potatoes and gordas de harina. After supper we sat round the fire and listened with great interest to the stores of Van Lee of his many experiences.
Devil’s Hole, Monday, March 21, 1932
The wind went down during the night and the same came up clear and warm and all was still bright. After breakfast we went down to Florencio’s and had him guide us to the spot where Mr. Adams was found dead. The said spot was about 600 years north of Florencio’s house, on a trail that leads to Adams’ cabin about 2 miles away. It appears that Mr. Adams must have sat down in the trail to rest and while thus occupied, had been struck with heart failure or something of the sort, as he was lying on his back with his rifle across his breast and his pipe lying on the ground by his right cheek. His hat was still on his head. His body was discovered by Florencio the morning of the 13th of February, while out hunting for horses. The body lay there for 3 days as it was necessary for an officer to come from Wathenero to inspect the corpse before a burial could take place. We found the spot marked by a long pile of stones about the length of the man. A few pictures were taken when we all went eastward a few hundred yards to where the grave was located and we piled more stones on it after which we a few more pictures were taken. A while after dinner, we saddled and packed our animas and took leave for our return home. We left the trail at the top of the divide and bore northward across the ridges and mesas. We took this detour as the Haley boys wished to do a little hunting on the way back. We made camp in a beautiful little valley near the head of Whigley Canyon. A full moon arose in the east, shortly after dark, making a glorious scene as it shone through the pines, throwing great blotches of mellow light between the shadows of the pine trees. Our campfire flickered in a small grove by the edge of the clear, rippling brook. We were all hungry and the mingled fumes of sizzling bacon and bubbling coffee pot intensified our appetites and when John and Andres yelled “come and get it,” we were not long at making the fried potatoes and bacon, gordas, etc. disappear like magic. After supper was over we prepared our beds and then sat around the fire for some two hours talking of the one thing and another while the little brook chatted and sparkled merrily in the moonlight and the tinkle of the horse bell became fainter and fainter as the animals fed along up the canyon.
Home, Tuesday, March 22, 1932
After a successful morning hunt we proceeded on down the trail. We reached Villa Ranch a little after 1:00 p.m. where we unpacked, grained our animals and prepared and ate our dinner after we resumed our journey, reaching home at sundown finding all well.
Taken from Pacheco Histories and Stories
Compiled by Sylvia Lunt Heywood
Colonia Morelos & The Outlaw Narcross of Texas
Two Mexican officers rode into the colony and reported that they had been on the trial of two noted outlaws for a period of twenty days. One of these outlaws was the notorious Narcross of Texas, who with his companion, had murdered a man in the state of Chihuahua to obtain his money. The officers had followed their trail to a point where it led down the mountain into Pulpito Canyon, a few miles east of Colonia Oaxaca. Fearful of their lives should they continue the pursuit into such a wilderness of trees and ledges, the officers, by taking a circuitous route and by travelling day and night, came in ahead of the outlaws to Colonia Morelos and demanded the services of three of the colonists in search for the fleeing convicts. The lot fell upon David Winn, Benjamin Eccles and myself. We were instructed to attempt no arrest of the bandits but to locate them merely ad return and report. About five or six miles up the highway leading from Morelos to Colonia Oaxaca, we met a couple of mounted men with a pack animal, making their way leisurely in the direction of Morelos. These, we suspected of being the men we were looking for. To avoid having hem suspect our errand, Dave Winn asked them if they had seen any mules up the road, to which they responded in the negative. We continued following the highway leading from Morelos to Colonia Oaxaca until well out of sight when we haled to consider the next step to be taken. It was decided that Winn should return to the colony to make a report and the other two were to ascend a high point commanding a view of the country for miles around to follow the movements of the strangers.
On the brow of the hill overlooking Morelos they halted, put their horses out to pasture and then Narcross, leaving his companion to watch the horses, walked into town for some provisions. At the Huish store he was making his purchase when the two Mexican officers, having been apprised of his presence, entered from the opposite end. Simultaneously the four men drew their guns on Narcross and ordered him to put up his hands. Hurriedly he raised his arms in the air, but only for a moment, when he shot them downward and seizing two of the guns, he forced them to one side and lunged for the door. As he did so he attempted to pull from beneath his clothes a revolver but was hindered by the trigger getting caught in his raiment. As he passed out of the door and was about to turn the corner of the building he was shot from behind and fell to the ground, at the same time crying for mercy. He was disarmed and lodged in the tithing office building for the night, in the absence of a jail. The other convict made his escape amidst a fusillade of bullets that fell short of their mark. Narcross was to stand trial in the state of Chihuahua and large part of the distance he must be taken in a light rig. The jolting of the vehicle, together with the intense heat, produced intolerable suffering for the wounded man. Infection set in and before he could be brought to trial for the murder, he had passed to a higher tribunal.
Thomas Cottam Romney The Mormon Colonies in Mexico page 125
The Latter-day Saint colonists had been counseled from the beginning of the revolution to remain neutral and offer no resistance to marauders, rather than retaliate and thus invite a terrible vengeance. The non-Mormon ranchers, however, were much less willing to stand for mistreatment without putting up a fight. One of these was P. H. Carlin, who operated the ranch at San Jose, 4 miles southwest of Colonia Dublan. (In early August 1912, when the men and boys of Dublan escaped to the United States during the first exodus from Mexico, Carlin had quickly saddled his horse and left with them as they passed by his ranch on their way to the mountains.) The Deseret Evening News told what happened when half a dozen Red Flaggers attempted to extort money from Mr. Carlin:
Six bandits appeared late Saturday night [December 27, 1913] at the home of P. N. Skousen a “Mormon” farmer living in Casas Grandes, and demanded money. As Skousen had no money he gave provisions instead. After loading up with the provisions the bandits took one of the Skousen boys as a guide and left for the home of Carlin not too far distant.
Reaching the Carlin home, the six Mexicans battered the door down and covered Carlin with their guns, demanding the payment of $500 as a ransom for his freedom. Refusing to comply with their demand, and calling them thieves and cowards, Carlin was led from the house to a grove in the neighborhood, and stood in front of a tree preparatory to being shot.
After having been searched at his house, however, and before leaving for the grove, Carlin managed to conceal a revolver under his arm in such a way that the bandits were unaware that he had it. As the chief of the outlaws ordered the others to take aim, five gunbarrels were leveled at his breast, and the count, “Uno, dos,” was given when, during a momentary pause after the second count, and just as the leader seemed ready to pronounce the “tres,” Carlin seized the revolver and fired on his assailants, killing two before they hardly realized what was occurring. The others took flight, but he succeeded in winging two of them. The others escaped after he had chased them a considerable distance.
Elder Anthony W. Ivins, who had known P. H. Carlin for many years, commented that he was “he was of a fearless nature” and that the bandits “got hold of the wrong man.”
Anson Bowen Call Bishop of Colonia Dublan by William G. Hartley and Lorna Call Alder pages 340-341
Senora Fimbres Killed by Apaches
(as written by Nelle Spilsbury Hatch)
In the summer of 1927 Pedro Fimbres with his wife and two children, a boy of ten and a girl of five, set out for Bavispe in Sonora, Mexico. It was a long, hard journey. Some places were so steep they had to travel on foot, trailing or leading their horses up and down the tortuous mountain trails. As they made their way down one steep descent, Senora Fimbres took the lead with the little boy riding behind. Senor Fimbres followed on foot with the little girl in his arms, letting his horse pick its way down unhampered by a load. When the little girl asked for a drink Pedro left the trail for a spring of water near by. As he returned minutes later he heard his wife scream loud and agonizing. Running toward her he saw Indian Juan jerk her from her horse, throw her onto the ground and begin pelting her with huge stones. Shouldering the little girl he ran back to where some cowboys were rounding up cattle and gasped out his story. They returned but when they arrived at the spot of the ambush she was not there. At the top of a high ledge, on the rim of the round valley, they found the crumpled and mangled body of the woman. The boy was gone. As Pedro made his way down to her, through his crazed brain rushed recollection of all the losses he had suffered at the hands of Indian Juan–horses stolen, food caches looted, cattle driven off again and again and now the brutal murder of his wife and his son carried away to be tortured or raised as an Indian.
Pedro could endure no more. Indian Juan must be made to pay. Kneeling by the side of his murdered wife, he solemnly vowed “Come what will, I will never rest till you are avenged.” He would follow Indian Juan to the remotest fastness; he would never stop till he had rescued his son and rescued and exacted full payment for his wife’s death. By the time he had take her body to Nacori, his desire for vengeance was a consuming passion. Enlisting friends to help, and being legally deputized to hunt and kill Indians, he left to carry out his vow. For three hears he followed the wily savage, his thirst for revenge driving him into places where white man had never before set foot. He combed mountain retreats in search of Indian hideouts following every clue or rumor no matter how wild or seemingly impossible. When friends tired and left him he went on alone. He even crossed the border into the United States, told his story, and solicited help from the government there. Failing to get it he returned to continue his search on his own. Nothing could dissuade him. No one could discourage him. No warning checked him. Even Lupa’s (Geronimo’s great grand daughter) entreaty that he give up the search lest he lose his life went unheeded.
One day his brother, Calletano, heading his small party, climbed slowly to the top of a high, bald peak. Weary and worn they sought water from the never failing Indian Spring. There they would give the country one last over-look, refresh their weary horses, and eat their own meager lunch. But as they neared the spring they unexpectedly saw Indians approaching it form the other side. In a split second they realized that their long-sought enemies were near and that chance for vengeance had come. Secreting themselves they waited.
First to appear was a squaw riding a burro. They shot her as she was frenziedly trying to extract a gun from the side of her saddle. A second Indian woman, following close behind darted into oak shubbery for protection but quick shots from the Mexicans wounded her in the arm. Screaming she continued to run, her dangling arm impeding her as she scrambled over rocks and bushes. The Mexicans in hot pursuit continued shooting until a fatal shot dropped her in the canyon bed. Calletano fortunately had not joined in the chase but had remained on the spot where the shooting began. Almost at once an Indian buck came in sight evidently in search of the reason for the shooting. His eye took in the fleeing girl with Mexicans in close pursuit and cocking his gun he slipped along their trail stalking the pursuers under cover of rocks and brush, waiting for a favorable time to shoot. He had not seen Calletano and not until a bullet spattered the rock near him did he realize his own danger. He darted to cover behind a large tree. Then began the shooting contest between the Indian behind the tree and Calletano concealed behind boulders. Each was hidden by the other, except as one or the other darted a quick look to shoot. Calletano could change his position but the Indian could only confuse by darting his head first from one side of the tree then the other. Getting the exact level of which these quick peeks were made Calletano sighted his gun and in one deadly shot got his Indian. Pedro returning with the others found Callentano bending over his fallen victim and recognized his archenemy Indian Juan. The long search was over. Indian Juan was dead–not by Pedro’s hand, but dead. But were was his boy? Not finding him Pedro’s brain reeled again and blind with rage and disappointment, he ordered the bodies placed in a pile. He fiercely scalped them and left them to be buried by Cerilo Perez, a rancher they passed on their way home.
Pedro made a report of the killing to government officials and then prepared to continue the search for his son. But the search ended before it begun. Perez, when he went to bury the Indians, found that an attempt had already been made to bury them. In a carefully laid up stone enclosure, covered by a beautiful Indian blanket, lay the three scalped bodies and on a pile of rocks by their side lay the scalped bodies and on a pile of rocks by their side lay the scalped and mutilated body of Fimbres’ son!
Who had killed the boy? Certainly not Indian Juan who lay dead beside him. Then who but the savage followers still at large in the hills. And against them continued warfare must be waged if property and lives in and around the mountains were to be made safe. Open season on Indians was therefore declared. Capture or kill was the order. Every rider through the mountains and every guard in the valley carried arms with which to fight this menace to the finish.
It was the vaqueros from Rancho Harris on the western slope of the Blues who finally located an Indian camp in a secluded valley of the Senora mountains. With the aid of field glasses they studied the setup and made plans to take the camp by surprise making sure that none should escape. No one but squaws could be seen, however, and the cowboys had scruples against killing women. Only in urgent need of wiping out the menace made them decide to go with their plans. They closed in, shouting and shooting as they rode, killing every squaw in camp as they scattered terrified and screaming, except one woman and girl. By the trail of blood left, as the woman ran, they knew she could not go far before dying.
The girl was found two weeks later by Bill Byes near Alta Mirana as she roamed the hills in search of food. Bye’s hounds treed her, the strangest cat they every treed, though one that could fight and scratch as fiercely as any feline. She was induced to come down after the hounds had been called off, though she continued to fight and scratch at least provocation. Byes took her to Casas Grandes where she was confined in the Juzgado comun (jail). There she sat for days, glaring defiance at the crowds who clustered round her bars all hours of the day, contemptuously refusing food shoved in for her until her body collapsed and her proud spirit took flight–another wild heart broken by capture and confinement.
With her death the last Apache Indian in the Sierra Madre wilds was accounted for. Her burial in the Casas Grandes cemetery rang the curtain down on the Apache menace to peace and safety which had persisted since Geronimo went on the rampage in 1880.
The Walter J. Stevens Tragedy
by Joel H. Martineau
When the families left Colonia Pacheco in July 1912, at the time of the Exodus, it was with the hope that the federal army, under General Blanco, would arrive soon and the rebels would be driven out of the country and the families could return.
There was one family, however, who did not go, that of Walter J. Stevens. This family lived on a ranch a mile north of town and instead of going to El Paso, they moved into a small cave on the riverbank not far from their home. The mouth of the cave was in a patch of brush and trees and had recently been discovered. The cave was not known to anyone except the Stevens family.
The entrance was not very large but the cave widened out and extended into the bank about 40 feet. Into this, they brought supplies of food and bedding, and when General Salazar, with his army of 700 men occupied Pacheco for three weeks, they pass the time quietly and were not discovered.
At length, when the rebels had all gone, the family again moved into their home. There is a small creek that came from the west the past near the house. Along its border, for about 195 yards, was a blackberry patch and the berries were ripe. Beyond the berry patch was an orchard of apple trees.
Shortly after they returned to their home, Sextus H. Johnson came from Sonora and visited the family and camped nearby. The next day he went home and was cleaning out the rubbish and wreckage left in his home by the rebels when Brig, the little Stevens boy, came and told him that his father had just been stabbed by a Mexican and was dead. Hastening to the Stevens’ home, he found the grief stricken family under intense suspense over the terrible tragedy. Artificial respiration was tried, but to no avail. The husband and father was dead.
There were three big boys in the family but Walter had gone hunting and Alden and Ammon were riding out to locate their horses that had been driven off to a secure place a month earlier.
Events leading up to the tragedy were related by the family. The two girls, Ella and Emma, were picking blackberries near the upper end of the patch when two Mexicans passed near and spoke to them. They did not speak Spanish so did not know what was said. The Mexicans went on across the creek, which is lined with willows, and the girls began working toward the house. Soon the Mexicans came back across the creek and saluted them with “Buenos Dias” and the girls went at once to the house and the men slowly followed them, eating berries as they walked along.
Brother Stevens was in the field a short distance away and little Brig was sent to tell him the Mexicans were coming. He went home at once and got his double-barreled shotgun and met the intruders as they neared the house and ordered them away, evidently thinking they were not there for any good purpose. They evidently did not come to rob them for they knew there was a man and three big boys there and they were unarmed except for a knife.
As the two men retired back the way they came, Stevens followed close behind them and was still talking to them. The two girls took their pails to again resume their berry picking. Now Stevens is a man unafraid, yet he is a man of peace and may have unwittingly made some remark that cause a burst of passion in the natives, for one of them turned suddenly and plunged a knife deep into the breast of Stevens. The reaction came immediately for Stevens’ trigger finger tightened and both barrels went off, both loads striking the other man in the side making a ghastly wound. He went about 150 yards into the orchard and died.
As soon as the gun discharge, Stevens dropped it and seized the two wrists of the killer and forced him down on his back on top of the gun. Another girl, Mina, was looking out of an upstairs window and saw her father stabbed and screamed. Her two sisters immediately rushed to the assistance of their father. He was sitting astride the Mexican and grasping his wrists. His face was ashen and he spoke not a word.
Ella pulled the gun from beneath them and Emma struck the man in the face with a stick. Their father weakened and fell over. The Mexican jumped up and made a lunge at Emma with the knife. Ella seized her skirt and pulled her back far enough to miss the knife by a small margin and as she raised the gun, the native fled. As he passed his fallen comrade, he took his hat, having lost his own in the scuffle. The girls then carried the limp body of their father to the house and when halfway there, he gave his last gasp and expired.
As soon as Johnson came, he did all he could for the stricken family and when the sons finally came home, he went at once to Pearson and notified the military then came on, though quite late, and told us in Colonia Juarez what had happened. At daylight next morning, half a dozen of us left on horseback for Colonia Pacheco. You the top of the mountain we met the Stevens family in a wagon driven by Joel Porter on their way to Colonia Juarez.
On arriving in the Stevens’ home I (J.H. Martineau) made two coffins for the dead while the others dug Stevens’ grave in the local natives buried their dead friend. A posse of soldiers came up from Pearson to take cognizance of the tragedy.
The local Mexicans said the two men were employed at the railroad construction camp about 6 miles east of Colonia Pacheco and had come hunting their saddle horses and were on their way to the house to inquire of the boys if they had seen them.
Walter Joshua Stevens was a man of strong convictions. He did not see the necessity of abandoning the colonies at this time as all of the colonists in the mountains had lived in comparative peace. He had many friends among the natives as well as colonists and had scarcely an enemy and felt perfectly safe to remain as he had his hidden cave, if needed.
He was fearless but not quarrelsome; a kind neighbor, honest in his business deals, always ready to aid the sick with his help at the bedside as well as with his means. He left the host of friends among all classes who knew him.. The slayer was unhurt and proceeded to camp, told what had happened to his companion and went on his way.
Taken from Pacheco History and Stories compiled by Sylvia Lunt Heywood
Cave Valley Indian Princess
(as told by Keith Bowman)
Many years ago the boys in Colonia Pacheco would hurt their cows down by the river. As time passed, they would go farther and farther and thus got down as far as Cave Valley. The boys would play around the caves well there cows were grazing. It was interesting for the boys to find different caves going to them.
One day they found a cave that was back in a little canyon that they hadn’t been to before it was hidden by some trees. As they went into it, they sought it was very well preserved and had Indian dwellings in it. In the back there was one room that didn’t have any doors or windows. They pounded on it and knew it was a hollow room. They got a stick and dug a little hole then put the smallest boy through the hole to see what was inside. When he got in and sat down, the light came in through the hole and he could see a girl sitting there. He said he had a hard time getting in that room through the small hole, but didn’t have a hard time getting out!
About a month later, an archaeologist from the United States was visiting the Pacheco area. He was told about this boy seeing the girl in the case. The archaeologist went to the boy and said he would give him a dollar if he’d take him where the girl was. He was taken there and they opened up a door into the cave and sure enough, there was a girl sitting there. She had on a blue velvet dress, had long blonde hair and blue eyes. There were two hollas (clay jars) by her, one contained squash seeds and the other one was empty. It had probably contained water.
We don’t know why they put her in there or if they were putting her the there to preserve her during some more or attack or whether she was a prisoner. They intended to come back and get her, I’m sure, because they left her with food and water. She was very well preserved but her fingers were all worn off where she had tried to scratch and dig herself out. Of course, the archaeologist took the girl to United States and probably put it in a museum or other location for display.
When I tell this story to the girls who had “Girl’s Camp” in that area each year, they’d say, “Let’s go and find the cave.” We’d go and find a cave where there were dwellings in little room in the back it had an opening so we figured this was a place where they found the princess mummy.
Lupa – Great Granddughter of Geronimo
as written by Nelle Spilsbury Hatch
In the wild jagged country about 50 miles wide along the border between Sonora and Chihuahua are high rugged mountains divided by deep, narrow canyons. Here trout fill streams while deer, bear, mountain lion, wolves, and turkey range the hills. The climate is mild, and palm trees grow in the lower valleys. There are no weather hazards. Here with food, water, and fuel in abundance, and caves in which to seek shelter, outlaw Indians from the United States and remnants of the Apache Kid band were as inaccessible as natural barriers could make them. Occasional trappers and prospectors unwittingly furnish guns, ammunition, saddles and tools, and ranchers living in the Arres and Bonita tributaries made good picking when cattle, corn or potatoes were needed. Even the Mormon colonies in the mountains had lost cattle, horses and mules to them.
Leading the group of Apache remnants in the 1920’s, was Indian Juan. His atrocities paralleled those of former desperado Indians and he spread terror in a similar fashion. He struck unexpectedly and slaughtered a family from Atla Mirana, Chihuahua, and a woman schoolteacher who were on their way to a weekend visit in Casas Grandes. He stripped their bodies, looted their wagon, and made off with their mules, leaving the dead to be buried by friends when they found them. He ambushed and killed a Mexican man in the same vicinity and kidnapped the boy who was with him. The boy made his escape when sent to round up horses and in a few days returned.
Juan’s raids on Mexican ranchers often resulted in killings. His very approach sent whole families scurrying to hideouts. Capitalizing on this fear he often called out as he rode up in the night, “Soy Indio Juan,” knowing his victims would flee or lock themselves in and leave him free to make off with whatever he pleased. Many ranchers had seen them, knew him by sight, and many more had suffered at his hands. But the pueblitos (little towns) in eastern Sonora suffered most, Nacori being consistently stripped. Its inhabitants were poor, few in number, with small patches of corn and wheat, few cattle and fewer peach trees. Yet in one night 30 head of stock and the major portion of their winter supply of corn were stolen.
Juan Garabos, Pedro Firmbres, and Abram Valencio went in search of the thieves. On top of a high peak they found a recent campsite and with the aid of field glasses they located a camp on a nearby peak and identified their missing cattle near. The Indians were preparing to break camp, and the Mexicans made haste to intercept them. To do so they had to slide their way to the bottom of a deep arroyo and climb out again up the steep sides of the high mountain peak. In the bottom, they divided, Valencio climbing the north side, Fimbres the south, and Garabos the east. High cliffs on the West side made ascent or descent impossible from that quarter.
Closing in they made the ascent without being suspected. Valencio reached the rim first and spied a young Indian riding a mule and guarding cattle near the bluffs. This Indian shouted an alarm that scattered the Indians into the brush like quail surprised by hounds. But the young Indian stayed with the cattle. First he tried pushing them off the bluffs and when they refused he rushed them to the southern end, Valencio firing wild shots at him as he ran in pursuit. Garabos and Fimbres, hearing the shots hurried to join the chase, Fimbres met the fleeing Indian face-to-face as he topped the rim on the south. The Indian slipped off the mule backward and bounded over the southern cliffs like a frightened animal. All three Mexicans followed in close pursuit, shooting at the fleeing Indian each time he came in sight.
He climbed down a cliff, leapt off a precipice, and darted into a cave, where he was crouching in fear and fatigue when they caught up with him. They beckoned for him to come out, threatening to shoot him if he didn’t, but the Indian only hissed and growled back.
Finally Garabos laid down his gun, went in, and much to the surprise of himself and others, led the captive out by the hand. They were further surprised to find the captive to be, not man, but a girl about 13 years of age. She was dressed in expertly tanned buckskin and calf hide. Her moccasins reach to her knees, were stitched and artistically trimmed with beads. Short calfskin pants, and with their hair left on, were covered by a short but skin skirt. A soft, smoked buckskin jacket, fringed at the bottom and latched at the throat complete her costume. High cheekbones and a around plump face indicated her true Apache descent.
Once the girl had surrendered she stopped fighting and calmly allowed herself to be led off. They returned to the Indian camp and gathered up everything the Indians left— which was everything, including the girl.
Allowing her to choose her own mounts they all started for Nacori. Her choice was a sorrel burrow which she wrote without saddle or bridle. She showed no emotion, never once looked back, nor made any attempt to leave trace or sign by which they might follow her. After an hour or so she began cutting capers on the burro. She rode standing first on one foot then the other and then on both. She rode backwards, then squatted on the donkey’s haunches. She slipped off his back, trotted along his side, then vaulted to her place again like a trained acrobat, never seeming to tire.
When they camped at night she helped unpack, unsaddle, and tether the animals, then wolfed her tortillas and gulped her coffee. Refusing a blanket they offered she curled up on a piece of rawhide on the ground near the fire and slept like a tired kitten.
When they arrived at Nacori and had distributed the stolen articles to rightful owners, the question of who should have the girl was decided by drawing lots. She fell to Valencio, then she favored Fimbres and spent much of her time with his wife and two children.
They took her to church where she took her vows and became a Catholic. They christened her “Lupa.” She quietly adapted herself to Mexican life, learn to speak the language, busied herself grinding corn on flat rock metates, washing clothes on a rock at the creek, sweeping with a broom made of tall grass tied with a string, and weaving hats with leaves from the palms. She was tall, straight, and agile as a cat. Her strength was prodigious and she feared no one. She was artistic and her tastes and beautiful work showed plainly her descent from a highly talented and civilized race of people.
She could carve one’s likeness from a piece of bark, touching up personal features till it was at once identifiable. When one day a cowboy jokingly asked her to “take a picture,” she in a few minutes handed him back the piece of bark. The hat brim had the same droop, the jacket the correct number of buttons, the chaps the same trimmings, his mouth the same curve, finished with the bowlegs of a cowboy. He was friendly and agreeable but refused absolutely to talk of her past tribal life.
After about three months she was given permission to return to her people if she desired. She took a few tortillas, some ground corn and set out a-foot, refusing the horse and saddle they offered. After three days she returned tired and footsore saying she couldn’t find them. Three months later she was again given the privilege. This time she returned after weeks absence saying she didn’t want to find her people now, finding her so Mexicanized, they would surely kill her.
After that she seemed content although she often took long walks alone. (In 1954, at the time Nelle Hatch wrote this, Lupa, great-granddaughter of Geronimo, still lived in Punta Pinal, a little Valley between Garcia and Hop Valley in Mexico) said that she married a man a drink a lot and that she told him that if he would straighten up and stop drinking she would show him where there is enough gold to make him the richest man in Mexico.
Taken form Pacheco History and Stories Compiled by Sylvia Lunt Heywood
Henry Eyring
(1835-1902)
Genealogists trace the name Eyring back to the time when they accepted Christianity, the meaning of the name being Pagan God of light.
The Eyrings were well-to-do apothecarists. There father, Edward Christian Eyring, invested his fortune in the factory to manufacture an oak extract for tanning leather and after much hard work and experience, it failed, losing all. His son Henry was born March 8, 1834. Family history says this loss to Henry was probably a blessing in disguise, as it was the cause of his sister Bertha and himself migrating to America where they heard and accepted the Gospel. Otherwise, he might have remained in Germany living in a season caring nothing for religion.
Henry and his sister Bertha sailed for America in 1853, landing in New York September 8, from where he went to St. Louis, Missouri. There he found employment with a wholesale drug business. There he also became acquainted with Mormonism. On the morning of December 10, 1854 he happened to hear that Mormons were going to meet in a chapel in the city. Out of curiosity he decided to attend, to see some of the desperate characters he had heard so much about. But as the people gathered, each one greeting him as they entered, he was surprised to find them so friendly and sociable, and so different from what he had heard of them. But he was disappointed in this spirited singing and in the quick way Elder Milo explained the principles of the Gospel, being used to solemn music of the Lutheran Church in Germany and an orthodox Christian minister. The next morning a fellow clerk handed him a copy of Parley P. Pratt’s Voice of Warning, which he read through that night. On being asked how he liked it, he replied he had read many interesting things in it, but could not believe in visits by angels or visions.
At this time he had discarded all religious belief, but was not satisfied with infidelity, and so was ripe for conversion to the truth. As he continued to attend their meetings faithfully, he formed a habit that he continued throughout his life and ever strongly hoped his posterity would adhere to as well. He also continued to read studiously every pamphlet and book he could find in St. Louis having any bearing on the doctrines of the Church. In three months he was thoroughly convinced he had found the truth. But he could not bring himself to the point of being baptized. He prayed earnestly for some manifestation from the Lord concerning this step. His prayers were answered by a dream in which Elder Erastus Snow talked with him and commanded him to be baptized. He further said his companion, Brother Brown, would be the man to do it.
He was baptized March 11, 1855 by Elder William Brown at 7:30 a.m., in a pool of rainwater. In the afternoon Elder Brown confirmed him. April 13, he was made a Deacon, and on May 16 he was ordained to the office of a Priest, on May 13 having preached for the first time. June 17, he baptized his sister Bertha, and on October 11, he was set apart as a missionary to the Cherokee Nation. On October 11, he was set apart to do missionary work under the hand of the President of the Stake.
On October 24, 1855, he settled up his typing and left St. Louis for his mission. Laboring among the Lamanites for four and one-half years, he suffered all manner of hardships and privations; most of the time chills and fever, until his health was almost ruined. He met with some success, baptizing some members and the Church. The authorities of the Church seemed to lose track of the five or six elders in the mission. Inasmuch as he could not get word from the President, Henry decided to ask the Lord in humble prayer if he should leave the mission and go to Zion. His answer came in a dream in which he saw himself in Salt Lake City. He went to President Young and told him he had come without being sent for, but if that was not all right, he would return and finish his mission.
He and Elder Richie started to Zion and on their arrival went to see the President and his dream was literally fulfilled. President Young welcomed them and said they had been expecting them.
On the journey from his mission, Henry fell in with the company of Saints on the plains and became interested in one of them, Mary Bommelli. They had many pleasant walks together ahead of the company and to them it was a very pleasant pilgrimage. They arrived in Salt Lake City August 29, 1860 and on December 14, 1860 they were married.
She was a native of Weingarter, Canton Thurgau, Switzerland, and was born March 10, 1830. She was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in November, 1854. She emigrated in 1859, going as far as New York City, and in 1860, crossed the plains to Utah territory.
Henry and his wife settled in Ogden. While there, he joined the military organization, being part of infantry. When they first moved to Ogden, he traded his pony for a city lot which was half swamp. Long years after he had disposed of it, it became very valuable, being used for a railroad depot. From Ogden, he moved to Salt Lake City. Up until this time he had never done any hard manual labor, but being very ambitious he preferred any work he would find rather than be idle.
In June, 1862, he began cutting stones on the Temple block for a $1.25 per day after that he did a lot of copying music. At the October conference in 1862, he volunteered to move to Dixie. On May 1, 1863 his first son was born, Henry Elias.
In October, 1862, they started for Dixie taking passage with John Nebeker. After a tedious journey, they arrived about November 23. They got work at Washington, ginning the cotton where they remained until the latter part of January. They then pitched a borrowed tent on the lot which was their home as long as they remained in St. George. He says:
Our earthly possessions were very limited. We all and some clothing, some bedding, and provisions to eat for three months. We had neither team, wagon, cow, or even chickens. I presume we commenced with as little as anyone ever did in St. George. My wife was a good weaver so we exerted ourselves to get a loom, and when we succeeded in this, her faithful and untiring efforts brought us a good many comforts which we could not have obtained in any other way. I cannot speak too highly of my wife Mary, for through her ceaseless energy and untiring labors, we succeeded with the blessing of heaven to gradually work ourselves up out of extreme poverty.
He tried all kinds of hard work such as farming, gardening, adobe making, stone cutting, living and working on the poorest fare until his health was badly impaired. His first job he says was erecting a sod house 16 ft. square covered with willows and dirt. He says that when he accomplish this he felt proud as it was comfortable and they were better fixed than many of their neighbors. November 6, 1863, Louise was born. They also raise some cotton which his wife woven the cloth, to pay for the building of their first adobe home.
He further stated:
Clara was born July 14, 1865, but died July 13, 1866. On May 27, 1868 Edward Christian was born. In September 1868, I was taken violently ill with rheumantics in the back and hip and was confined to my bed for about three weeks. When I recovered from this sickness I secured employment in the St. George office as assistant to Brother Franklin B. Wooley, clerk of the office.
This change of work benefited him.
January, 1869, money was subscribed for starting a co-op store. From this time on Henry found clerical work which he was well prepared to do. About May 1872, he took charge of the store and under his administration built up a very successful business. He continued with the store until he moved to Mexico in 1877. He was one of the few successful operators of co-op stores. This grew and flourished under his administration, paying handsome dividends all the time. When he arrived in Mexico, he started another co-op store on a small scale but it soon doubled and trebled its capital until it became a very profitable institution.
He might have done as many other co-op superintendents have done, bought up stock and weeded out stockholders to his own gain, but he would not do that. He was content to live and let live. The result was that in each case he turned back to the stockholders a flourishing business. He was an honest man in the truest sense of the word. The success in St. George in the mercantile business was repeated in Colonia Juarez.
On August 12, 1872, he married Deseret Faucett, and on August 1, 1874, he received a call to a mission in Switzerland and Germany. August 31, 1874, he left to fill this call, going by way of New York, Liverpool, London, Antwerp, and Cologne. He traveled very extensively in Germany and Switzerland with his sister Clara. He was banished from Germany and went to Berne, Switzerland, where he edited the Church publication, Der Stern, and translated the Doctrine and Covenants into the German language. He also published tracts and a songbook.
Because of his plural marriages, Henry decided to move to Mexico where he could live peacefully. Apostle Snow invited him to go to the Mexican colonies, promising that he would do better in every way and Mexico than he had ever done in St. George, which proved to be the case.
In February 1887, he left for Mexico with the following members of his family: his wife Deseret, Edward Christian, Annie, and Andrew. He started out with one light wagon and one team, traveling by way of Price, Scandlen Ferry, Hackleberry, Mesa, Fort Bowie, San Simon, La Ascencion, Casas Grandes, and Colonia Juarez. We arrived there on April 1, 1887. Father secured two city lots and fenced them and commenced to cultivate and plant trees and vines. He also built a small log house Deseret. Then he left to a fill a call to serve as a missionary in Mexico City.
He had faith in Apostle Snow’s promise to him in which he had said, “If you will take this mission, learn the Spanish language, become acquainted with the people, in the laws and customs of the land, as well as with government officials, and through it all learn how to do business in this land, you will be great blessing to the Saints in Mexico.”
Arriving in Mexico, he began study of the Spanish language, although he was then 50 years of age. Yet, he mastered it to the extent that he could transact business in the language, could take care of legal matters and receive instructions from prominent men of the nation, including President Porfirio Diaz himself, without an interpreter. Later at home in Colonia Juarez, he was able to teach the language both to the students in the school and to adults in night school. So far as meeting the success he had hoped for in his missionary work, however, he was somewhat disappointed.
The following is from his journal:
On account of the return of so many of the Mexican Saints who failed to make a location at Colonia Juarez and who told exaggerated tales of woe and disappointment, it was very difficult to make any headway among the members of the Mexican Mission. Nearly all of them believed the false statements about our colony and a bitter feeling was engendered by many. The consequence was that two of the branches that had at one time been the most flourishing, declared themselves independent of me. In addition, a false prophet arose claiming to believe the book of Mormon but taking all manner of false doctrine. Having a very fluent tongue and being a man of force and energy, he upset quite a number of the members. However, a few remained faithful, it was impossible to make any headway by any of the new converts. While there, one man living in Morelos took quite an interest and applied for baptism. I think I must have converted him for the Lord never did. Being a drunkard, he soon drifted into his old habits and left the Church. Though my mission to Mexico was in some ways unsatisfactory, I believe that as a whole I accomplish what Brother Snow required of me.
Our beloved Apostle and true friend, Erastus Snow, died at Salt Lake City, May 27, 1888. By his death Mexican colonies lost a leader who would greatly have promoted their welfare if he had lived. As it was he had laid the foundation, and his wise counsels are quoted to this day.
Near the close of 1888, there being no new openings and the people of Colonia Juarez being anxious for my return, I turned over the affairs of the mission to John Rogers. I bought a small stock of merchandise for our completed co-op store at Juarez, and then returned, reaching there in company with Annie Snow on December 29, 1888.
I found my family in fair health, except Annie, who was recovering from a severe attack of pneumonia. A frame store having been built, I opened business on January 1, 1889, with a stock of goods of about $1500. At first I opened about two hours in the morning about the same in the evening, working in my lots the remainder of the time. That’s very soon business increased, and my whole time was required. In May 1889, burglars entered the store and got away with about one third of our stock of merchandise. That year, as business was increasing, I sent for my son Edward Christian to help me. He arrived in August, and at once began his work.
August 29, a son named Carlos Fernando, was born. In February, 1890, I went to Mexico City on business for our Colonies.
In April I went to Utah to move my wife, Mary, to Mexico, reaching St. George about the 26. She had been closing out our furniture and I sold one of our water rights to James Andrews for $100 so we had something like $600 to take with us to Mexico. On May 1, 1890, we started for Mexico with myself, wife Mary, Henry, and Ida. Emily, who had married William Snow, son of Erastus Snow, on November 9, 1887, remained in St. George.
We went by team to Milford and by railroad to American Fork, where we visited my sister Bertha.
From American Fork, we went by rail to Deming and from there by team to Colonia Juarez, arriving on May 15, 1890. During the summer this year I built a brick cottage on my lower lot for my wife, Mary and family, who moved into it about November. February, we received a visit from Apostles Moses Thatcher and George Teasdale. Brother Teasdale returned her call you Diaz where he was temporarily located and about May returned with his wife, Ettie, and her two children and lived with us several weeks. He then moved to the Snow house. Later in the season a temporary organization was effected, called the Mexican Mission with George Teasdale as President, and A. F. Macdonald, and Henry Eyring as counselors.
I attended the October Conference in returning, went in company with Brother Moses Thatcher to Manassa, Colorado. There I met sister Georgina Snow Thatcher, who had a home in Manassa. While there I posted up the books of the Mexican Colonization and Agricultural Company. I stopped at the house of brother John Morgan who had since died. On October 3, 1891, my daughter Fernanda Carolina was born.
In 1893, he attended the dedication of the Salt Lake Temple, and participated in meetings held afterwards by Authorities of the Church in the upper rooms of the Temple. The first two of these meetings were to ascertain to what degree the First Presidency was sustained. He among others proved they were in full accord and were willing to give full support. At the last meeting at which they fasted and prayed, it was attended by the largest group, 140 people, ever gathered for that purpose. After prayer, they went into another room to partake of the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper and were filled with rejoicing.
While in Salt Lake City, he met his daughters, Louise and Emily, and two children and returned with them to Sanpete, and from there started for Mexico. Arriving in Colonia Juarez, May 1, 1893, he found a late frost had destroyed the fruit, including the grapes. The second crops of his muscats did very well. That year, he built a frame house for his wife Deseret into which she moved immediately. That same year he went to Mexico City in company with A.F. Macdonald and Meliton Trejo and, together, were able to get a new contract for colonization. They were also allowed a personal interview with President Porfirio Diaz, who treated them very cordially.
In the spring of 1894, he was appointed by Apostles Brigham Young, Jr. and John Henry Smith to go to Chihuahua City to secure better water rights for Colonia Juarez. There he waited three weeks for an interview with the governor, but was then successful in getting from him a letter to the presidente in Casas Grandes asking him to see that the colonists were not curtailed or crippled in their use of water.
In December 1895, Apostle Francis M. Lyman organized the Juarez Stake of Zion. Anthony W. Ivins, who had been set apart in the office of the First Presidency, was made President and Henry Eyring and Helaman Pratt were sustained as his Counselors. In the capacity Henry, with his wife Mary, who had been made Stake Relief Society President, and Elder George Teasdale, visited all the settlements in the stake except for the two most recently organized, Colonia García and Colonia Chuhuichupa. These they visited the following year in company with Helaman Pratt.
Although Henry suffered a slight decline in health about this time, he was able to carry on throughout the years, meeting both civic and ecclesiastical responsibilities and finding time to teach Spanish, help those needing it with legal transactions, and taking care of his store.
It has been remarked by men who knew him best that he never stopped growing until his last day. Father’s word was as good is his bond. In all the years that I, Edward Christian, his son, worked with him, I never knew him to do a small mean being. He was free with his means in all public works. He used splendid clean language, free from slang and petty swearing.
It was, as Miles P. Romney said to me once, ”He has a splendid type of European gentleman.” He was very kind to his wives and children. I never heard him speak an unkind word to one of his wives and he was always kind to his children as well. He had high ideals for education. I think he would have gone to almost any length to help us children become educated. He held high positions in the Church from the beginning and never received a penny for his services. His idea was that if we pay for our services here, we could not expect pay hereafter. He preferred to lay up treasures in heaven and went to his just reward February 10, 1902 in Colonia Juarez.
Stalwarts South of the Border by Nelle Spilsbury Hatch
pg 152
There is a funny story regarding Daniel Skousen. During the Revolution there was a Carranzista general who was exhorting money from the townspeople of Colonia Juarez. For a few mornings in a row he would park his team of horses at Daniel Skousen’s gristmill. He would commandeer Daniel and his car in order to threaten President Bentley and other Colony leaders with death and laying waste to the colony if they didn’t pay him money. During one of these morning “shake downs” a man named Trinidad Quesada from a rival faction’s army slipped into town and happened to see the general sitting in Daniel Skousen’s car along with President Bentley.
Quesada started to pursue the car firing his pistol at the car. The general fell to the floorboards telling Daniel “Andale, amigo Daniel, por favor andale! Por amor de Dios Daniel, mi amigo,” as bullets whizzed past hitting the dust all around them.
The car roared up the street, across the wagon bridge and stopped in front of Daniel’s gristmill. The general pleaded with Daniel to keep the car moving towards safety. Daniel refused, letting the car engine sputter and die. The engine didn’t start again until after the general had jumped on his buckboard and was out of sight.
About the same time that the incident happened above, another much more sad story took place.
General Inez Salazar and his soldiers were occupying Colonia Juarez. Three Chinese merchants pulled into town on a wagon loaded with goods. General Salazar ordered their merchandized seized and the three Chinese shot.
Daniel Skousen and other Mormon men decried the General’s order. The Chinese prisoners offered the General $300 dollars, which he promptly took and then ordered the Chinese men marched to the river and shot.
As the Mormons stood in silence, Brigham Pierce walked up to the somber crowd, not knowing what had just taken place and complained to General Salazar that one of his soldiers entered his house, frightened his wife, had robbed her of money and then threatened Brigham and his wife because they had no more money to give.
General Salazar asked Brigham if he could identify the man. Brigham pointed to a man sitting with other soldiers near a campfire. The man was brought forth, searched, and the goods repossessed. The General ordered, “Take this man and shoot him!” The Mormon men again protested the execution saying that all the goods had been returned and the sentence surely does not fit the crime.
The angry General demanded that his second-in-command, Silvestre Quevado, shoot the man. The Mormons still protested. The General roared, “Go home everyone of you, get your guns and fight on one side or the other (the Mormons had taken a stance of neutrality during the Revolution). or leave the country!…” He went on, “Go back to the United States where you belong….Mexico for Mexicans, and los Estados Unidos for the gringos!”
President Bentley confronted the general, “No, we will not leave the country. Neither will we take up arms go fight you and your people. This is our country as well as yours. We’ve lived her many years; our sons and daughters have been born here and some of our wives and children have been buried her. This is our home and and the country is dear to us. We did not come here to fight, but to live in peace, to make homes and build up the country!”
The general changed his tone, apologized, and shook President Bentley’s hand saying, “Senor Bentley, you and your people may stay in this country as long as you wish…”
Later that night after the men had dispersed, a figure stepped out of the shadows and on to Daniel Skousen’s porch begging for water. It was one of the three Chinese men that had been shot earlier in the evening. He had laid for hours between his dead friends until he was certain that the general and his men had left. Daniel Skousen asked the town nurse, Mrs. Laura Ann Hardy Mecham, to clean and dress his wounds.
Excerpts taken from Colonia Juarez an intimate account of a Mormon Village by Nelle Spilsbury Hatch, 1954., revised by Madelyn Hatch Knudesen, 2012.