I am Accused of Conniving with the Indians to Steal--My Arrest--
Investigation and Discharge--The Fate of Witches among the Natives--I
Interfere to Prevent their Murder--Captain Norval's Threat--His Mistake.
More white people were coming into the valley all the time to settle,
and a deep prejudice against the Indians was soon developed. I was
accused of being in collusion with them in running off the settlers'
stock so as to get a reward for returning it.
This charge was presented to the agent at the Gila agency and from him
it was sent to the military commander at Camp McDowell.
There had been many accusations against the Indians and myself before
this, but nothing in a formal way. This time notice had to be taken,
so Capt. Summerhays with a posse of soldiers came to my ranch. I had
often been to the camp and had talked to the officers about my affairs
with the Indians. There was, from the first, a disposition of honor
manifested by the military toward my labors.
The posse arrived about sundown. The captain came in, opened some
papers and said his orders were to arrest me for being in with the
Indians in stealing stock, and asked if I could prove myself clear.
I told him I did not intend to try to prove my innocence, but would
help him to prove my guilt if possible, for if guilty I wanted to find
it out and quit it.
This rather pleased the captain who laughingly said: "Well you are a
prisoner, but I will trust you not to run away."
Next morning we went out to see what evidence could be found. We first
visited the Indians and heard their story. They said that the whites
who were coming into the country were careless about their stock and it
often strayed off a long ways. Some of the owners had offered to pay
them for hunting it up. When they brought the stock some paid them,
while others who were bad men would abuse them and tell them they had
driven the stock away on purpose to receive a reward for finding it.
They said Captain Jones always told them to be honest with everybody
and had forbidden any Indians to come to his place unless they would do
right.
The Indians were very earnest in their talk, saying they had been
friends to the people that had come in, and that it was bad to be
accused so unjustly, and said they would not hunt any more stock.
The captain told them that would be wrong as the people were poor and
did not know the range.
One Indian, Valensuela, spoke up and said: "Well, I will teach these
people better. I will go and get their stock and give it to them, and I
won't take a cent if they offer it to me."
The spirit and manner of the Indians convinced the captain that they
had been wrongfully accused. From the Indian camp we went to where the
greater portion of my accusers were at work on a ditch.
The captain called the attention of the crowd and made known his
business by saying, "Mr. Jones has been accused of causing the Indians
to run off your stock. Do any of you know anything about the charge?"
No one answered against me. Some said they did not think I had done
anything of the kind. We were now some three miles from my ranch. The
captain drove back to the road and offered to take me home, saying he
had got through.
I asked him what he was going to do with his prisoner. He offered to
give me a letter to publish clearing me from all the charges. I told
him I had become so used to such things that I cared but little about
them. He replied that it was a good thing for a man in my situation not
to be too "thin skinned."
Through this affair I got on record at the Post as reliable, and ever
afterwards my word was taken in preference to any reports against me.
I was kept tolerably busy watching and defending the rights of the
Indians; also in trying to correct evils existing among the natives.
One thing that taxed all my ability was to break up witchcraft, their
main superstition.
Both Maricopas and Pimas fully believed that all sickness and
calamities of any kind were caused by witches. Their witch doctors
claim the power to divine who the witches are. When this is done all
hands turn out with clubs and stones and kill the poor wretch pointed
out. Whenever there is much sickness among them some one has to die as
a witch. This I had endeavored to check by teaching them better, but I
soon learned that my teaching had not reached the desire, as witches
were killed among those settling with us of the Maricopas.
I went to their camp and told old Malia, who was quite intelligent
in many respects, that if such an act occurred again that I would
deliver them to the law to be dealt with as murderers. At the same time
explaining to his people the general laws of health, showing them that
the violation of natural laws produced sickness.
Some time after this a Maricopa woman came and told my wife that the
Maricopas had decided to kill me; that the witches were killing their
children and that I would not allow them to kill the witches. So the
only way to protect the lives of their children would be to kill me, as
I was a friend of the witches.
When I came home my wife told me of this threat. She seemed a little
concerned for my welfare, but her faith was always with mine; so we
decided that it would be best for me to go at once and put a stop to
this feeling.
I got on my horse and went alone some three miles to their camp. Most
of the Indians were gathered together. As I approached none spoke; all
were sullen. This confirmed to me the truth of the squaw's report, as
the Indians generally met me in a friendly manner.
I went directly to the subject; told them what I had heard, saying
to them that I had no fears of their killing me and that there was
no use for them to entertain any such feeling towards me, for I was
their friend and teaching them the truth, and that God would protect
me. I again talked to them a long time and finally seemed to gain some
influence.
The Pimas had also been guilty of the same practice. When I heard of
this I took a good interpreter and went to their camp, which was across
the river among the old settlers not of our colonizers.
I had to labor long and hard before getting any satisfactory results.
The old chief acknowledged that they had killed one witch and had
almost killed another, who had recovered, and that they were then
doctoring him to cure him, so that all hands could turn out and "kill
him better."
I asked how they knew these men were witches. The answer was that the
"doctor" had pointed them out.
I asked to see this "doctor" This was declined. I insisted, telling the
chief that I would neither befriend him nor his people, nor talk to
them about anything more until this "doctor" was shown me.
This the old fellow did not like; for I had done them much good
already, and was continually watching and protecting their interests.
They all knew this and appreciated the same.
Numbers of the old men gathered around, chatting together. I continued
to repeat my request to see the "doctor." Finally, he was brought out.
I managed, after talking a long time, to really convince these Indians
that it was wrong to believe in witches or, at least, to kill them.
They agreed to quit the practice and I had reason to believe that they
were partially converted, at least, for the poor fellow, who had been
almost killed, came to my ranch a few weeks after this. He was terribly
banged up; but, as soon as he could possibly travel, he came to let me
know that I had saved him; that his people had agreed not to kill him,
and that he would always call himself my boy, as I had saved his life.
Many persons were jealous of my influence with the natives and wondered
how I managed to obtain so much power over them. I simply acted as a
friend; and the Indians knew this.
One circumstance I will relate that will explain a little of this
power. There was one of our white settlers who had lost his only cow.
She was running on the river bottom, near the Indian camp. At the time
this occurred the commander at McDowell was Captain Norval, a rather
impetuous officer.
A letter was sent to this officer, stating that the Indians had stolen
and killed the only cow that a poor man had and calling on him to come
and redress the wrong. Accordingly, Captain Norval soon appeared, at
the head of some dragoons, went to Mesa City and wrote an order, to be
delivered to the Indians through me, that the cow had to be produced or
paid for within six hours, or he would kill the last Indian to be found.
The Indians accused lived across the river, which was now very high. I
immediately sent a courier for the old chief to come to my ranch, also
informing him of the charge.
The old man came as soon as possible, having to swim the river. He was
quite old and feeble, but managed to get over with the help of some
younger men.
Captain Norval soon made his appearance and, with something of a
flourish, reiterated his threat. The old chief looked at him in a dazed
manner, then asked if the captain wanted them to pay for the cow when
they knew nothing about her.
"No; but you have stolen the cow and killed and eaten her, and you have
got to pay for her or I will turn my soldiers loose on you."
"Who says we killed this man's cow?"
"This letter says so."
"That letter lies; we know nothing about the cow. It would be better
for us if we had killed her, for we could then confess and pay for her;
but how can we confess and pay for what we know nothing about?"
The captain then asked what had become of the cow. The old chief said
he did not know, positively, but thought perhaps he could tell. He said
the day the cow was lost there had been a sudden rise in the river;
the water coming down so suddenly that the cow, being on an island,
was probably washed way and drowned. The old man was so simple and
straightforward in all his talk that Captain Norval became convinced
that he was truthful, and that the charge was more malicious than
reasonable.
There was scarcely a week passed but what there were miserable, petty
charges brought against the Indians, often on the slightest grounds,
that had to be met.