The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 26, 1897, Page 21

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1897. VICTORY OF THE YAQUIS er Fiohting Fourteen Years. Death of Chief Cajemi and the Terrible Vengeance Taken bu His Followers on the Mexican Settlers o, Dec 18, 1897, 1d bitter guerrilla the Mexican Gov- is just effecting 1 clauses of the with the spirited Yaquis. r a time only some peo- 1ary conflicts ever waged 1 of the continent noted for fighting. The resolute ! aquis not only held their v won for themselves y ion demanded of the ; The broad and fertile | Yaqui te ory is now being divided among them in severalty, and the fierce braves will now aside their Wincheste and six-shoote and for a time at le: ers. To any one who ‘knows the Yaqui character the result of the fourteen year: incessant fighting is not a surp: Fertile of resou and a ter is the Yaqui brave. For 300 years he has held his lands against all comers, and many and sanguinary have been the conflicts be- tween him and pertinacious invaders for its possession. At times he has been forced back into mountain fast- nesses, but never for a moment has he thought of relinquishing the fight. Mexicans or others who have tempo- y captured a footing on the dis- puted soil have been obliged to st become peaceful farm- closely guard it rifle in hand and to e battle whenever the Yaqui braves considered it advisable to make one of their interminable raids. When you arrive at Torin, up the Yaqui River about seventy miles from Guaymas, you are in the heart of the Yaqui country, and there you find General Luis Torres, the head of the military forces in the third zone, with an army of two thousand men in barracks and a large force of survey- ors laying off land and allotting it to the Indians in severalty. The sound drum and bugle is heard at all and you are surrounded by all the “pomp and circumstance of war.” There are fifteen thousand Yaquis in the State of Sonora alone and near- ¥ as many more scattered around the rest of the countr; Every man is a sharpshooter and a bushwhacker, and the most of them are armed with im- proved Winchester rifles and six- shooters. They give allegiance to one great chief, who holds his position by election during life. This does not arily imply a long term of office, or if a chief lies to his people or de- ceives them in any way his term of office and his life end simultaneously. ‘Whatever the chief says is so simply because he says it, and the tribe ren- ders him blind, unreasoning obedi- ence. Years ago the Yaquis had a great chief named Cajemi. He was a war- rior of renown. Brave as a lion and cunning as a fox, he led his people to victory again and again. He was hated as much by the Mexicans as he was loved by his tribe. Of course in a fight in the open the Mexican army by force of numbers and power of artillery could vanquish the Indians, but when the latter were hard pressed they would retire to the Bac- | tec Mountains, where every soldier that attempted to follow them was killed. Every nook of the mountains did they know, and famous places for ambuscade abounded. It was simply impossible for the soldiers to fight on anything like equal terms with the In- dians in the hills. Cajemi some fourteen years ago had intrenched himself in the mountains, whence he made frequent and disastrous descents upon the Mexicans in the valley. Every effort to dis- lodge him or to lure him out into open battle failed. Finally—and this is a black tale—a priest, the compadre de Pila of Cajemi, or godfather of Ca- jemi’s children, went to the moun- tains. He represented to Cajemi that General Martinez, in command of the Mexitan troops, was desirous of peace and would make terms entirely satis- factory to the Indians. After much persuasion and under a flag of truce and every assurance of security Ca- jemi accompanied the priest to the valley to treat with Martinez. The trusting chief was promptly seized, carried to Guaymas and shot to death by a file of soldiers. This enraged the Indians beyond measure. They adopted the retalia- tory methods which soon left no liv- ing Mexican in the Yaqui Valley. It is said that in their first rage women and children fell victims to their fury. The tribe elected a warrior named Tataviate as great chief, and he proved to be as brave and sagacious as old Cajemi. He was not long in visiting his wrath upon the Mexicans and in avenging the dead chief. Shortly after his election, with a band of twenty-seven warriors, he ambush- ed a company of one hundred soldiers at Batamatal, within six miles of Guaymas, and killed every man. He | skinned a burro and drew the hide over the body of the dead Mexican captain. He then stuck the body on a pole and took it to a point in full view of Guaymas and exhibited it to the garrison there. Before he did this, however, he attended to a little mat- ter of ¢ ne among his own war- riors. There were three of his braves who did not deport themselves in the ficht as Tataviate thought they should have done. Accordingly he called them out and had them promptly shot to death. The war raged fiercer and fiercer, and for nearly fourteen years the Mexican Government was compelled to keep an army in the fleld. The best the soldiers could do was to try and confine the Indians.to the moun- tains. There was not steady fighting all the time, but the outbreaks and raids were very frequent and always occurred whenever the vigilant In- dians had ammunition on hand. The Apache campaigns in Arizona y fourteen years | e of the most stubborn | | Mexican and New Mexico were merely Indian Xcursions beside the campaigns the soldiers had to undergo to keep the vigilant and raiding Yaquis penned within the fastnesses of their impregnable mountains. fter four- teen years of almost constant fighting the war ended suddenly in a curious fashion. In one of the interminable fights a Yaqui warrior was wounded and cap- tured. Instead of ordering him shot at once Colonel Pinado, who was in command, directed that he should be given the kindest of treatment and the very best of medical attention. When the Indian was recovered Colonel Pinado set him free and made him the bearer of a message to Chief Tataviate, who was then in the moun- In the Yaqui Valleu. soldier, but by this act you have out- done me.” Then for two days the proposed terms long war. Tataviate put his demands as follows: That each warrior, woman and child of the Yaqui tribe, no mat- ter where his place of residence, be given a bortion of the lands of his forefathers; that this land be survey- ed, laid off and patented to each In- dian individually; that the rights of the Indians to bear arms be not abridged; that the Government issue they discussed for ending the | to all Indians sufficient rations of corn | to sustain them until they could get | their lands cleared and a crop raised. In return the Indians were to relin- | quish claim to such of their lands as they did not need and were to promise General Torres, Governor Corral and other representative Mexicans spoke for the Government. Tataviate an- swered - for his tribe in an impassion- ed address. Both sides were accorded full mead of praise for bravery, and it was ac- knowledged to be a true treaty of peace by agreement and not because one side had whipped the other. After signing the treaty a number of cattle were killed and a gigantic barbecue was given the Indians. Ath- letic sports and bull fights closed the exercises of the eventful day. The next day Governor Ramon Cor- ral and General Torres took Tataviate and his bodyguard to Hermosillo, where they were given a great ban- quet. The party then proceeded to Guaymas, where the celebrations of peace were continued for several days. There was absolutely nothing too good for Tataviate, and he seem- ed to appreciate everything at its true value. ‘While at Guaymas Governor Corral told Tataviate to. buy anything he wanted at the best store in the town and have it charged. The chief cheer- fully bought twenty-five hundred dol- lars’ worth of stuff and charged it to Governor Corral. He selected laces, silks and a general assortment of the very best ammunition. At one bound he became rich in this world’s goods beyond his wildest dreams. In my trip for The Call I carefully investigated the present spirit among the Yaquis. Some of them are still sullen, and T would not be surprised at another outbreak at any time. I talked with quite a number of the braves and found them very inde- pendent. They have a great contempt for the average Mexican soldier. Not for a moment will they admit that twenty years ago to provide an asy- lum and school for the rescue of that class of Chinese girls who have been imported and sold for the vilest pur- poses. A more hopeless condition can- not be imagined. Kidnaped or be- guiled from their homes in China, liv- ing in San Francisco back slums, be- hind barred doors and windows guarded by highbinders, unable to speak our language and taught to look upon every white person as a “foreign devil,” what wonder if many of these wretched women, despairing of release, have found rest in a sui- cide’s grave! Upwards of a thousand of these unhappy creatures have been rescued from this cursed bondage since the Christian ladies of San Francisco began their benevolent work. Hundreds are now the mothers of happy Christian homes, and many a household in far off China has cause to bless these women of America for the return of some long-lost daughter. One Sunday evening in the winter of 1886 a young Chinese merchant living at Sacramento presented himself at the door of the Mission Home. He asked to see the Sin Shang. There closeted together he told a sad, strange story. Next door to where he lived was a Chinese girl who was in great distress. Night and day he had heard piteous appeals with cries and sobs. “I want to go back home. I will not stay here. Oh, where is my mother. Kau meng! kau meng!” (Save life! save life!) Then followed angry voices and heavy blows and muffled cries, as if a hand were held over the girl’'s mouth. “Shat. tau nee” (Il kill you) said the harsh voice. “Didn’t I pay $2000 for you and what are you good for?” Later in the even- ing the merchant stole out into the back porch and heard a conversation next door, from which he gathered 21 descent. Step by step she felt her way down to the sidewalk. A white man and a lady rushed up and hurried her along to the end of the block, where a hack was waiting. She flew along the street. Behind her was the sound of opening windows, excited shouts and shrill police whistles. A wild shot from an upper window whistled past the fugitive girl and her rescuers. “On! on! as fast as you can gal- lop!” said the matron to the driver as they slammed the carriage door. Another shot broke upon the night air as they dashed round the corner followed by a shouting mob. With blanched cheeks and trembling limbs the girl sank into a corner of the car- riage. A kind hand touched hers and a soothing voice said, “On nee sam, em shai keng.” (Don't fear, you are safe now.) It was the first kind word she had heard for many months. The pent-up emotions found vent. She burst into a flood of tears—not tears of: heartrending remorse, but tears like April showers that roll away the black clouds from our skies and give promise of a bright and glad to-morrow. Safe within the mission ‘ walls she told the story of her life. “I was kid- naped nearly a year ‘ago, just two weeks before I was to have been mar- ried. My captors gagged me to stifle my cries, and I 1ost consciousness. ‘When I revived I found myself on board a junk bound for Hongkong. Once or twice I attempted to call a passing boat, but a pistol was pointed at my head. On arriving in Hongkong I saw many white people. I was told they were foreign devils, who would cast me into a deep dungeon if I made any disturbance. I cried and wrung my hands in frantic grief at being separated from my home. Twice I at- — With Twenty-Six Warriors Chief Tataviate Ambuscaded a Hundred Mexican Soldiers nd Killed Them All tains. The colonel proposed a confer- ence with a view of arriving at some arrangement which should terminate the long war, and he suggested a neu- tral ground of meeting. Tataviate returned word that the fate of the former chief, Cajemi, was too fresh in his memory and that he did not care to leave his defenses to meet any Mexican officers in confer- ence. He declared bluntly that if Colonel Pinado wanted to see him he would have to come into the moun- tains attended only by the Indian messenger. The chief gave his assur- ance of personal safety to Colonel Pi- nado and said that no attempt would be made to avenge Cajemi’s death by breaking faith, as General Martinez had done. Under the peculiar condition of af- fairs it took a man of great personal courage to accept Tataviate's invita- tion. Colonel Pinado, however, was thoroughly familiar with the Yaqui character. He knew they held their word of honor as something sacred. He also knew, however, that there was extraordinary provocation to break it in this instance.. His brother officers were all opposed to the step, but when the matter was reported to General Torres he ordered Pinado to proceed to the mountains and attempt negotiations with the Yaqui chief. The daring Mexican penetrated the mountains for a long distance, and at last came to a little valley, wherg stood the Indian chieftain surrounded by a dozen of his braves. After the betrayal of Chief Cajemi the tribe de- creed that their chief should always be personally attended by not less than twelve of the bravest warriors as a bodyguard. As he approached the group Colonel Pinado handed his rifle to one brave and his revolver to another. Then he held out his hand to Tataviate. The chief took it and patting the Colonel on the shoulder said, “Colonel Pinado, I thought I was & brave man and a | l | to stop all attacks on Mexicans and raids on Mexican property. Tataviate said he realized that the war keft people, especially Americans, out of the Yaqui country, and they needed such people to develop the land and furnish employment to the Indians. in favor of peace. *“Colonel Pinado, he said, frankly, “if I edvise my peo- ple to make this peace your Govern- ment must keep it to the letter or my life will pay the forfeit, and there is no telling what penalty your people will be called upon to pay. If I ‘tell my people the Mexicans will do cer- tain things and if they fail to do all these things and fail to do them in Jjust the way I tell my people they will do them my life is not worth a cart- ridge shell. So make me no promises unless you are absolutely certain they will be carried out.” Colonel Pinado replied that he could promise nothing without the sanction of the General Government and told Tataviate that if he would remain in the little valley until word could be had from the City of Mexico the mat- ter could be arranged. After promis- ing to send up in care of the guide a mule train laden with supplies Colanel Pinado took his leave and traveled s. to meet his commander. General Torres submitted the mat- ter to the General Government. He was promptly instructel to make the treaty without delay ¥rom Mr. J. A. Nangle, manager of the Sorora Railway, who was one of the witnesses to the treaty, I am told it was an imposing spectacle. A large stand was erected. In front of it were ranged some eight hundred Yaqui braves with Winchester rifles, six- shooters and three belts of cartridges each. To one side facing both the stand and the Indians were two thou- sand Mexican troops, armed with car- bines. In the muzzle of each gun was a little white banner bearing the words, “La Paz” (peace). ~ - He admitted he was heartily | they have been in any way subjugated by the pelones, as they call the Mexi- can soldiers. The allotment of lands is progress- ing satisfactorily under the able di- rection of Colonel Garcia Pena. Each head of a family gets ten acres, his wife gets the same and all children get four acres. This is arable land, susceptible of irrigation, and with its wonderful productiveness is amply sufficient to afford a support to the Indians. They are all glad to get their lands in severalty, and this, coupled with the wise administration of Gen- eral Torres, may keep them quiet for a long time. In Sonora are some five or six hun- dred Texans and Coloradans, who are exceedingly anxious to find the man who started the rumor that there were immense deposits of placer gold in the Yaqui Valley. There are no placers here that can be worked. Moreover, there are no placers in Mexico which cannot be and are not being worked by Mexicans to a much greater ad- vantage than any American can hope to work them. I believe the Mexican to be the best prospector and the best pan-washer in the world. There is no use for anybody to come here with the idea of discovering gold lying around loose. Up the Yaqui River, near the Ari- zona line, are some quartz ledges which promise well, but they are ex- pensive propositions, and it will take lots of money to handle them. There are many good openings in Sonora for the investment of capital. At the same time, to my mind, it is just the place for the poor prospector to keep away from. The people here are just as sharp and just as alert as they are anywhere and are keenly alive to all local chances to make money. The scene shifts to San Francisco and the facts to be related are current history. On the border of Chinatown is a large building called by the Chi- nese a Shoo Koon. It Was opened | that the week following the girl would be taken and sold in some distant mining camp, where she would be forced into an unnamable life. There was no time to lose. Leung Ah Ping, for that was the merchant’s, name, resolved to rescue her from their clutches. White men could not be re- lied upon. Some were honest, but others were subsidized by the slave rings. That night he removed a piece of: mortar from the wall that separated him from the adjoining room, then a piece of lath was sawed away till he was close enough to be heard by the wretched girl. She roused herself as the kind voice addressed her. “Listen,” said he, “you are in trouble and I can help you. I know what you have suf- fered. A worse fate awaits you if you stay here, for next week they will take you far away and sell you. Don’t despair. Only follow my directions and you may be free.” Poor girl! How often had she been promised and de- ceived! “Oh, let me alone; don’t worry me, don’t mock me with such words,” sald she. “If you have any pity for me get me a dose of opium that I may end my misery.” At last she listened. .She drew nearer. Did she understand the plan? Yes! She was willing. As well lose her life in a struggle for liberty as to die by slow, torturing grief, or even worse. Everything was arranged and her face lighted up with a new hope. Next day the matron and deaconess of the mission went up to Sacramento. All day long the girl waited in a state of feverish anxiety. About midnight the last visitor had gone. When all was still a rope ladder was passed round the porch into the girl’s window and made fast to the posts of her bed. She quickly attired herself in all her clothes, adjusted the cords and waited the signal. The last footstep on the sidewalk had died away. She looked into the deserted street. All was as still as death. “Huy la!” whispered Ah Ping. “Ho seng la! Go very care- fully!” Noiselessly she passed through the window and began her perilous tempted to escape, only to be dragged back and beaten. I motioned to a po- liceman, but he did not heed. At last my captor became alarmed. I re- Joiced one day when I heard him tell somebody that he was going to return me to my friends. I became quiet, for I believed his word. Next week I was taken on board a large steamer. After two days at sea I wondered that it should take so long to get to the mouth of the river. A woman whispered to me that I was being taken to America. I realized that I had been deceived and lay for three days moaning and sobbing in my berth. I tried to jump overboard, but was dragged back. “He heap clazy; mo’ better shut ’em up,” said my captor, and I was shut up the rest of the voyage. “In San Francisco the steamer was boarded by officialsandI was examined. I told them the truth, but the inter- preter, who was half white and half Chinese, was bribed by my owner to say what they pleased. I could not speak a word of English, and there was no one to help me. I was taken on shore to a family house, where I was sold for $2000. Then my troubles began. I passed through weeks of fever and delirium and wished I could die. Slowly I recovered. My master saw that life had no charms for me and I was sold to a man in Sacramento. The rest you know. Yes, I want to return to my home as soon as my passage money can be raised.” And this was Lin Fah! Who could have recognized in that haggard face and wasted form of the poor slave girl the lovely girl whom we saw on the banks of the Ping Kong? S Nl ey “Will he die? Is he dangerously wounded?” asked Lin Fah one morn- ing, with tear-stained face and voice choked with sobs. ‘Pai loh! Pai loh! Alas! alas! I have been the cause of it. It was all because of me. Ay yah! Ay yah! I cannot bear to think of it.” The morning newspapers had told of I a tragedy in Chinatown. A prominent Chinese merchant, the proprietor of business houses in several cities, had been shot down while passing along Jackson street. Highbinders had been lying in wait for him for several weeks. The Kwai Kung, to whom Lin Fah belonged, had laid the matter be- fore the Beng Kung Tong. A secret meeting had been held. Chinese de- tectives were employed to work on the case. Leong Ah Ping had been proved to be the man who helped her to es- cape. The tong had * secretly ' con- demned him to death and ordered out the “hatchet men” to take his life. Hearing of the plot, he - was advised to employ some rival highbinders to act as his bodyguard, but had refused, saying: “I am a Christian man. I trust in God and the laws of the United States to protect me.” All day Lin Fah was inconsolable. She refused food; she beat her breast and lay moaning upon the floor in broken- hearted grief. Later in the day the matron came in. “Don’t fret, dear,” said she, “I have just come from the hospital.. . The doctors say the wound, though dangerous, is not necessarily fatal. : Cheer up. Leung Ah Ping will not die,” and Lin Fah gave a sigh of relief. . Three months have passed and the day for Lin Fah’'s departure had ar- rived . A letter had come from China inclesing money for her passags home. It was a happy day. Kind treatment, 80od food and fresh air had done much to obliterate the dark lines of care from her face and restore her.to health and beauty. A hack was engaged to take her to the steamer, and the time had now come to say farewell to that home where she had passed the only hapoy days she had known on American soil. ‘Seated in the carriage, a stalwart po- liceman opposite, her hand clasping that of the kind matron at her side, she said in pigeon English: “Me no savey one t'ing. Wha’' for ‘you 'Meli- can lady so heap kind Chinese gi'l? Me fada, mudda no b'long you. You fadda mudda no b’long my. You "Mel- ican, me Chinese. Wha’ for you makee me alla sim you sista? You my welly good flen. My tink of you ebly day till I die.” “Lin Fah,” said the matron in Chi- nese, “it is the religion of the cross that teaches us to do this. Confucius taught that ‘all within the four seas are brethren.’ Jesus taught us that all mankind are our brethren.” ‘“Chan hai! Chan hai!” said Lin Fah. “I tink some day me likee become Clistin like you. Me b’lieve Ye-su; some day me see you up topside and nebba go away, from you any mo’.” On their way to the steamer it had been arranged to call for a few minutes at the hospital. It was Lin Fah's own request. In one of the wards, propped up by pillows, was a pale-faced China- man with a bandaged head. He raised himself as they entered, and Lin Fah beheld the brave and chivalrous bene- factor to whom she owed life and liberty. Looking at the pallid face before her, the beautiful girl poured forth words of gratitude to one who had risked his life in her behalf. No one present could tell what was pass- ing in Ah Ping’s mind or what caused him such agitation. At last he said: “Lin Fah, you are about to return home. I have had something on my mind that I wanted to say to you. She bent lower, and what he said was in whispered words, the import of which bystanders could only guess. Lin Fah looked down till her long eyelashes touched and scarlet blushes mantled her cheeks. For a man to speak to a maiden in China would be highly im- proper. But America is outside the domain of Confucian conventionalities. Lin Fah shook her head, with a sad look, and heaved a deep sigh. “It can- not be,” she'said; “I belong to another. Farewell!” As she passed out of the door, her eyes wet with tears, Ah Ping sank back upon the pillow, the picture of despair. This was the girl whom he had loved since that early morning when he saw her passing down the rope ladder—the girl whose name the doctors had heard him call while he lay in fever and delirium after the tragedy, on Jackson street. On board the steamer Oceanic was & missionary lady bound for China, in whose charge Lin Fah was placed. The mailbags had been taken on board, the gangplank removed, the hoarse whis= tle blew, handkerchiefs waved, as the great vessel began to back out into deep water. There were sad partings between husband and wife, lovers and friends; the sobs and tears and heart« aches of women mingled with the calmer good-bys of the men. Tears of gratitude moistened Lin Fah's eyes as she waved her adieu to the ladies wha had cared for her so kindly. The steamer turned to the Golden Gate and was soon out of sight. On the wharf in Hongkong father and brothers were waiting to welcome back the long lost girl. Who shall de- scribe that joyful meeting after two long years of separation and grief? But there was more sadness in store for Lin Fah. The gray-haired mother was no more. She had sorrowed oven her lost darling, refused to be comfort= ed, and so pined away. Her father was now a broken-hearted man. The fam- ily property had gone. Thousands of dollars had been spent in fruitless search. The dowry had to be refunded@ to old Mr. Wong. Disaster followed disaster. The family was now bank- rupt and almost destitute. And where was young Wong? Alas for human fickleness! Hearing that his bride had been carried beyond the seas and im- agining too well her fate he had made matrimonial alliances elsewhere. Lin Fah received the news in silence. It was what she had expected. Two days afterward the boat on which they journeyed passed the old place—the old homestead—theirs no more. It was a bitter moment, to see the home of her childhood owned by others. At nightfall they reached the humble cottage that was to be their home. Ah! why had she not died in childhood and spared her family all this misery? Years have passed. There have been changes in the old homestead at Shun Heng. The old house is still there, but near it is a red brick tai chak, or man- sion, with upcurved, bell-shaped roof, modern windows and foreign furniture, The household gods are to be seen no more. The grotto of Kwan Yin, the god- dess of mercy, has been torn down and on its site stands a Christian chapel. Lin Fah is seen again on the banks of the Ping Kong. Her slave dress has gone, and she is seen elegantly attired in embroidered robes and brocaded silk. She is now a happy mother, and leads by the hand a chubby little fellow, who iz the joy of his grandfather’s heart. They are waiting at the landing steps, their faces expectantly turned up- stream; and here comes the barge of Leung Ah Ping, the rich California merchant, now the largest landed pro- prietor in the district. There is a ter- rible scar upon the left temple, re- ceived many years ago. To everybody else but Lin Fah it is a frightful dis- figurement. He was wounded for her, and Lin Fah looks up at her husband’s scarred face with gratitude and love. H. W. PATTON, ex-Indian Agent,