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OLD
WEST LEGENDS
Heroines of the Southwest |
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By
William Worthington Fowler in 1877 |
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No
portion of our country has been the scene of more romantic and dangerous
adventures than that region described under the broad and vague term the
"Southwest."
Texas
,
New Mexico
,
and Arizona,
are vast, remote, and varied fields with which danger and hardship, wonder
and mystery are ever associated. The country itself embraces great
contrarieties of scenery and topography--the rich farm, the expansive
cattle ranch, the broad lonely prairie watered by majestic rivers, the
barren desert, the lofty plateau, the secluded mining settlement, and vast
mountain ranges furrowed by torrents into black cañons where sands of gold
lie heaped in inaccessible, useless riches.
The
forms of human society are almost equally diverse. Strange and mysterious
tribes, each with different characteristics, here live side by side.
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Zane Grey Novel, Covered Wagons
Illustration,
circa 1920, by W. H. D. Koerner.
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| Vile mongrel breeds of men
multiply to astonish the ethnologist and the moralist. Here roam the
Comanches
and the
Apaches, the most remorseless and bloodthirsty of all the North
American aboriginal tribes. Mexican bandits traverse the plains and
lurk in the mountain passes, and American
outlaws
and desperadoes here find a refuge from justice.
As the Anglo-Saxon after fording the
Sabine, the Brazos, and the
Colorado
River of
Texas
,
advances westward, he is brought face to face with these different
races with whom is mixed in greater or less proportion the blood of
the old Castilian conquerors. Each of these races is widely alien
from, and most of them instinctively antagonistic to the North
European people.
Taking into view the
immense distances to be traversed, the natural difficulties presented
by the face of the country, the remoteness of the region from
civilization, and the mixed, incongruous and hostile character of the
inhabitants, we might naturally expect that its occupation by peaceful
settlers,--by those forms of household life in which woman is an
essential element--would be indefinitely postponed. But that energy
and ardor which marks alike the men and the women of our race has
carried the family, that germ of the state, over all obstacles and
planted it in the inhospitable soil of the most remote corners of this
region, and there it will flourish and germinate doubtless till it has
uprooted every neighboring and noxious product.
The northeastern
section of this extensive country is composed of that stupendous level
tract known as the "Llano Estacado," or "Staked Plain." Stretching
hundreds of miles in every direction, this sandy plain, treeless,
arid, with only here and there patches of stunted herbage, whitened by
the bones of horses and mules, and by the more ghastly skeletons of
too adventurous travelers, presents an area of desolation scarcely
more than paralleled by the great African Desert.
In the year 1846, after news had reached
the States that our troops were in peaceful occupation of
New Mexico
,
a party of men and women set out from the upper valley of the Red
River of Louisiana, with the intention of settling in the valley of
the river Pecos, in the eastern part of the newly conquered territory.
The company consisted of seven persons: Mr. and Mrs. Benham and their
child of seven years, Mr. and Mrs. Braxton and two sons of fifteen and
eighteen years respectively.
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The "Staked Plains" of
New Mexico ,
courtesy Library of Congress.
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They made rapid and comfortable progress through the valley of the Red
River, and in two weeks reached the edge of the "Staked Plain," which they
now made preparations to cross, for the difficulties and dangers of the
route were not unknown to them.
Disencumbering their pack-mules of all useless burdens and supplying
themselves with water for two days, they pushed forward on their first
stage which brought them on the evening of the second day to a kind of
oasis in this desert where they found wood, water, and grass. From this
point there was a stretch of ninety miles perfectly bare of wood and
water, and with rare intervals of scanty herbage for the beasts. After
this desolate region had been passed they would have a comparatively easy
journey to their destination.
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On the evening of the
second day of their passage across this arid tract they had the misfortune
to burst their only remaining water cask, and to see the thirsty sands
drink up in a moment every drop of the precious liquid. They were then
forty miles from the nearest water. Their beasts were jaded and suffering
from thirst. The two men were incapacitated for exertion by slight
sun-strokes received that day, and one of the boys had been bitten in the
hand by a rattlesnake while taking from its burrow a prairie dog which he
had shot.
The next day they pursued
their march only with the utmost difficulty; the two men were barely able
to sit on their horses, and the boy who had been bitten was faint and
nerveless from the effect of the poison. The heat was felt very severely
by the party as they dragged themselves slowly across the white expanse of
sand, which reflected the rays of the sun with a painful glare into the
haggard eyes of the wretched wanderers. Before they had made fifteen
miles, or little more than one-third of the distance that would have to be
accomplished before reaching water, the horses and mules gave out and at
three o'clock in the afternoon the party dismounted and panting with heat
and thirst stretched themselves on the sand. The sky above them was like
brass and the soil was coated with a fine alkali deposit which rose in
clouds at their slightest motion, filling their nostrils and eyes, and
increasing the agonies they were suffering.
Their only hope was that
they would be discovered by some passing train of hunters or emigrants.
This hope faded away as the sun declined and nothing but the sky and the
long dreary dazzling expanse of sand met their eyes.
The painful glare slowly
softened, and with sunset came coolness; this was some slight mitigation
to their sufferings; sleep too, promised to bring oblivion; and hope,
which a merciful Providence has ordained to cast its halo over the darkest
hours, told its flattering tale of possible relief on the morrow.
The air of that desert is
pellucid as crystal, and the last beams of the sun left on the unclouded
azure of the sky a soft glow, through which every thing in the western
horizon was outlined as if drawn by some magic pencil. Casting their eyes
in that direction the wretched wayfarers saw far away a dun-colored haze
through which small black specks seemed to be moving.
Growing larger and more distinct it approached
them slowly over the vast expanse until its true nature was apparent. It
was a cloud of dust such as a party of horsemen makes when in rapid motion
over a soil as fine and light as ashes. Was it friend or foe? Was it
American cavalry or was it a band of Mexican guerrillas that was galloping
so fiercely over that arid plain?
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These torturing doubts were soon solved. Skimming over the ground like
swallows, six sunburned men with hair as black as the crow's wing, gaily
dressed, and bearing long lances, soon reined in their mustangs within
twenty paces of the party and gazed curiously at them. One of the band
then rode up and asked in broken English if they were "Americans;" having
thus made a reconnaissance and seeing their helplessness, without waiting
for a reply, he beckoned to his companions who approached and demanded the
surrender of the party. Under other circumstances a stout resistance would
have been made; but in their present forlorn condition they could do
nothing.
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Mexican bandits, courtesy of the Aultman
Collection,
El Paso Public Library |
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Their guns, a part of
their money, and whatever the unfortunate families had that pleased the
guerrillas, was speedily appropriated, the throats of their horses and
mules were cut, Mrs. Braxton and Mrs. Benham were seized, and in spite of
their struggles and shrieks each of them was placed in front of a swarthy
bandit, and then the Mexicans rode away cursing "Los Americanos," and
barbarously leaving them to die of hunger and thirst.
After a four hours'
gallop, the marauders reached an adobe house on Picosa Creek, a tributary
of the Rio Pecos. This was the headquarters of the gang, and here they
kept relays of fresh horses, mustangs, fiery, and full of speed and
bottom. Mrs. Benham and Mrs. Braxton were placed in a room by themselves
on the second story, and the door was barricaded so that escape by that
avenue was impossible; but the windows were only guarded by stout oaken
bars, which the women, by their united strength, succeeded in removing.
Their captors were plunged in a profound slumber, when Mrs. Benham and her
companion dropped themselves out of the window and succeeded in reaching
the stable without discovery. Here they found six fresh horses ready
saddled and bridled, the others on which the bandits had made their raid
being loose in the enclosure.
It was a cruel necessity
which impelled our brave heroines to draw their knives across the
hamstrings of the tired horses, thus disabling them so as to prevent
pursuit. Then softly leading out the six fresh mustangs, each of our
heroines mounted one of the horses man-fashion and led the others lashed
together with lariats; walking the beasts until out of hearing, they then
put them to a gallop, and, riding all night, came, at sunrise, to the spot
where their suffering friends lay stretched on the sand, having abandoned
all hope. |
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Upper Pecos River
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After a brief rest, the whole party pushed
rapidly forward on their journey, arriving that evening at a place of
safety. Two days after, they reached the headwaters of the Pecos. Here
they purchased a large adobe house, and an extensive tract, suitable both
for grazing and tillage.
These events occurred early in the autumn.
During the following winter the Mexicans revolted, and massacred Governor
Bent and his military household.
Continued Next Page |
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From the Rocky Mountain General Store
Vintage
Photographs of the Old West - From our personal
Photo Print Shop, you can now order prints that provide
dramatic glimpses into the rich heritage of the
American
West. From notorious
outlaws,
to
Indian Chiefs,
buffalo
roaming the range, and pioneers on the trail, this varied collection grows
daily.
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There is no Sunday west of St. Louis – and no God west of Fort Smith.
--
Old adage used to describe the Western frontier |
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