Apache Tears

By Benjamin Gastellum

The Acuñas . . . a Spanish ranching family who have fought for decades to keep their land grant despite the harsh realities of the fickle desert weather and marauding bands of renegade Apaches and greedy Americans who covet their land for themselves. The Apaches . . . Geronimo, Cochise, Eskiminzin . . . are fighting to the death to keep their native lands and fading way of life in the turmoil of western expansion known as Manifest Destiny. The clash of three cultures . . . Spanish, Apache and Anglo . . . creates a thrilling tale of survival of the fittest; terror as the result of endless warfare; selfish greed for what others possess; overcoming terrific odds to maintain life in the brutal and unforgiving but beautiful land of the American Southwest.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781641913799

Book preview

Author’s Note

This book is a work of fiction. The members of the Acuña family are based on characters from my imagination. Any similarity to actual people is accidental and not based on fact.

References to history are based on true events that happened during the period of the Apache Wars between the U.S. Army and various bands of the Apache tribes of the Southwest. The conflict between them began with the Bascom affair that involved the great Chiricahua leader, Cochise, and Lieutenant George Bascom of the U.S. Army in 1861. For the next twenty-five years, war would wage between the two parties until Geronimo finally surrendered and the last of the Apache bands were removed to Florida in 1886.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my dear wife Eleanor for all her hard work in seeing this novel to its conclusion. She typed long and hard and edited and thoughtfully criticized while giving me complete support. It was truly a labor of love in completing the manuscript and hopefully making it a story that all will enjoy.

Thanks also to my mentor and dear friend, Steve Gladish. He inspired me when I was at the lowest point in my life and gave me the example to see this project through. It has been a long road, but I am glad for the journey.

Prologue

In the beginning …

They came seeking gold and the fabled city of Cibola. When they reached the shores of the New World in Old Mexico, they were greeted with open arms by the Aztecs, Mayans and Incas, who considered them gods sent from above. The world they came to conquer knew no famine or disease before they arrived, but these natives soon found these gods were nothing more than mortal men who came to steal their lands and their lives. In less than fifty years Old Mexico was completely conquered, its cities destroyed by fire and in ruins, the native people subdued into slavery. The Spanish lay claim to all of Mexico and the northern territories that would become New Mexico, Texas, Arizona, and California. It was a magnificent jewel in the crown of the King of Spain, but no golden city of Cibola was ever discovered.

The Spanish brought much to the New World, including an aristocratic society that saw the natives as an inferior people only good enough to serve as servants and slaves. The Spanish introduced the natives to the Holy Church, spreading Roman Catholicism across the land by establishing missions run by Jesuit and then Franciscan friars sent to the New World to convert the ignorant savages while saving their unworthy souls. Conquest was done in the name of the Holy Church, even if it was accomplished through murder and genocide.

It did not take long to subdue the helpless natives, who had never before seen the horse, the gun or the shiny metal clothing worn by their conquerors, the Conquistadors. Genocide, not accomplished by warfare, was accomplished by the European diseases of smallpox and measles, which decimated the natives and left their societies in total ruin, the people reduced to mere beggars and slaves.

After achieving their conquest of lower Mexico, the Spanish continued their conquest north into the areas which would become Sonora and Chihuahua, then into what would later become the territories of New Mexico, Texas, Arizona and California. The Spanish found the region both formidable and a virtual Garden of Eden, with huge mountain tracts that soared into the sky. Pine and oak forests covered the mountain slopes and at their bases lay what seemed to be barren deserts devoid of life. However, shallow rivers snaked across the land for much of the year, bordered by fertile valleys that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The climate could be ideal with warm weather most of the year, yet ferocious wind, rain, ice, and snow storms that pelted the land regularly, and the highest mountain peaks wore a blanket of snow for several months of the year. In the desert areas life was a constant struggle, but in the forests and mountains wild game thrived, providing sustenance for the natives and the newcomers. It was a good land, but it constantly challenged man’s limits, and many died trying to eke out a life where weaklings could not survive.

The Holy Church sent her friars into this awesome landscape escorted by armored soldiers on horseback, whose duty lay in establishing mission communities throughout the land. They built their missions consisting of a church and outbuildings surrounded by high adobe walls to protect the inhabitants from Indian attack. Each mission was self-sustaining, complete with kitchens, blacksmiths, artisans of all kinds, and granaries stocked with crops grown in the mission fields. The native people provided the labor for these missions, mostly from the Pima, Opata, and Papago tribes. These peaceful natives were easily converted to Christianity in the name of the Catholic Church, and their labor made the missionary endeavor a Spanish success.

Only the nomadic Apache refused to be subjugated by the Spanish, the Mexicans, and finally the white Americans. This proud and defiant tribe became the subject of history and legend as they fought hard to maintain their way of life and their free roaming ways. In the northern regions of Chihuahua and Sonora in the New Mexico and Arizona territories, the Apaches would wage the longest and most successful guerrilla warfare ever seen on the North American continent.

The Spanish conquest of Sonora was centered on the establishment of several missions stretching from Santa Ana in Sonora, Mexico to Tucson in the Arizona territory. This area became known as the Pimeria Alta, and at one time fifteen missions operated within its confines. The basic assumption of the Spanish, who established these missions, was that the Indians who lived on these lands had no political organization, or what they had was considered vastly inferior to the Spanish or other European systems. The Spanish expected the Indians to recognize the Spanish king as owner of all the land and supreme authority on earth; to accept a simplified local system of Spanish government; to accept Christianity in the form of Catholicism and to recognize the missionaries as their spiritual and moral leaders.

That the native population did not embrace the Spanish vision for them was lost to the king and his chosen authorities. Indian tradition was never considered. The Indians were expected to embrace the missionaries as their saviors. Those that stood against the crown were subject to annihilation by the Spanish soldiers or by the Old World diseases that the Europeans brought with them in the form of smallpox, typhus and measles. It has been estimated that the native population of Mexico was twenty-five million in 1520, but by 1605 it had plummeted to just over one million, a staggering eighty-six percent loss. Established towns and mission communities were often totally depopulated in short order, which had a tremendously disruptive effect on the societies and economies of the native people.

When Eusubio Francisco Kino first came to the Pimeria Alta in March of 1687, the region was home to the Indians of the Pima and Opata tribes. These desert dwellers were peaceful people who subsisted in small communities where they raised livestock and planted crops of corn and beans. They were easily converted by the Jesuit friars, who had established several missions in the area. One of them was in the Tubac Valley which became known as the Mission at Tumacacori.

The Spanish missionaries faced difficult odds as they enforced their will on the Pima and Opata Indians of the area. However, in the late 1690s, those tribes allied themselves with the Spaniards to fend off attacks from hostile Apaches from the northeast. As mission cattle herds and cultivated fields became abundant, they proved irresistible targets for these nomadic bands. This alliance came undone in 1695 when Spanish authorities at the Mission of Tubatama hung two Pimas who had allegedly threatened the resident priest.

The Pima of the area revolted in revenge for the hanging of their fellow tribesmen. They murdered their Opata overseer and two others at Tubatama, burned the priest’s house and the church, desecrated sacred artifacts, and butchered mission cattle. Moving to the south, they recruited additional Pimas and then attacked the mission settlement at Caborca.

The Spanish were quick to respond but could find no organized enemy to fight. Padre Kino was asked to call a meeting between the Pima Indians and the Spanish soldiers. In an act of Spanish treachery, one of the Pima leaders was arrested and beheaded and more than fifty other Pimas killed in the ensuing fight.

A war was now on, and the Pimas rallied their forces and attacked and burned the remaining buildings at Tubatama and Caborca before destroying the missions at Imuris, Magdalena, and San Ignacio. Kino was successful in calling a truce and peace returned, once again, to the area. In the next fifty-five years, the destroyed missions were rebuilt and the Spanish and the Indians lived in harmony.

By November of 1751, the Pima again revolted against Spanish authority. Led by Luis Oacpicagigua, the Pimas destroyed the new visita at Arivaca. After killing the priest and a hundred settlers there, the Pimas laid waste to several buildings at Tubac, Guevavi, and San Xavier. This revolt ended four months later when Oacpicagigua surrendered.

Shortly thereafter the Spanish decided to build a military outpost at Tubac and to move the mission at Tumacacori to a new site on the west side of the Santa Cruz River, placing the mission and the presidio on the same side of the river only three miles apart.

Although a new adobe chapel stood at the site at the end of 1757, mission populations continued to decline, primarily due to epidemic diseases. In the early 1780s, the Spanish made a huge mistake when they relocated Northern Pimas from lands west of the Santa Cruz valley in Tucson to lands east of the mission at Tumacacori. The Northern Pima had once acted as a buffer against the hostile Apaches to the northeast, but a gate was now opened wide for their incursions into the Tubac Valley.

Unlike the Pima, the Apaches were entirely nomadic, never settling in one area but continuously on the move. They made a sharp distinction between raiding and warfare. Raiding was done to replenish horse herds and supplies, while warfare was a deliberate act of revenge on their enemies. They were incredibly adept at guerrilla warfare, moving entire camps fast and light, women and children tending camp while the warriors attacked their enemies and then disappeared without a trace.

To compound the problems of the Jesuits in the New World, political chaos in Portugal and Spain led to the expulsion of the Jesuits from the Spanish Empire. On July 23, 1767, sealed orders from Spain were opened which called for the roundup of all mission priests. Suddenly, the Jesuit priests were gone from the Pimeria Alta. The mission communities were left to govern themselves, something they were not qualified to do. By the summer of 1768, when Franciscan priests arrived to replace the Jesuits, most of the missions in the Pimeria Alta had been abandoned.

The next forty years were a time for renewal by the Franciscans to re-establish the mission communities in the Pimeria Alta. Missions were consolidated as the Indian populations declined, and emphasis was placed on settlements of Calabazas, Tumacacori, San Xavier and the Presidio at Tubac. Friars were also located at San Ignacio, Magdalena, Cocospera, and Caborca in northern Sonora.

By May of 1780, the Mission at Tumacacori was once again a thriving community. Adobe walls stood on all four sides of the village, and several small houses had been added for security. Very good fields surrounded the mission, but continual drought hampered the cultivation of any crops. Only a handful of residents continued to live at Tubac, and they were continually attacked by marauding Apaches. By 1786, the Presidio at Tubac was once again garrisoned with Pima soldiers and a new peace policy was implemented with the Apache. It was hoped this would make them dependent on the Presidio for their source of supplies. For the next forty years raiding was greatly reduced, limited to only a small portion of hostile Apaches who refused to make peace with the Spanish.

In October of 1795, Father Narcisco Gutierrez became the priest at Tumacacori. In the next twenty-five years, he accomplished more at Tumacacori than any of his predecessors, finding the funds to finally begin construction of the main church building. Construction began in 1802 but it would take twenty-six years before the church was completed.

Spain’s control of Mexico had been in decline since the early 1800s. On August 24, 1821, Mexico won independence from Spain, ending three hundred years of Spanish rule in Old Mexico. Great changes for the Spanish settlers left in Old Mexico would alter forever the lives of those who had settled in the Tubac Valley. In April of 1828, the last resident friar left Tumacacori, and the mission would never reach the peak that had been dreamed for it. The mission entered a downhill slide of abandonment and decay despite all the previous efforts at making it a permanent mission community like its sister Mission of San Xavier south of Tucson.

In 1830, well over five hundred people lived in the area of Tubac and Tumacacori. The principal Hispanic family who had settled in the valley in the early 1790s was named Acuña. They were originally from Spain. The Acuñas had once been sheepherders from the Pyrenees Mountains, which form the border between France and Spain. By a twist of fate, Santiago Acuña had saved the life of a rich Spanish baron’s daughter from a landslide, and had won the affection of the daughter and her father, who allowed Santiago to take his daughter’s hand in marriage. When the baron died without leaving a male heir, Santiago inherited his father-in-law’s estate and station in life. Santiago was very successful in his new status as a baron, raising beautiful horses for the stables of the Spanish throne.

In 1792, Santiago accepted a land grant in the New World in exchange for his land in Spain. The Spanish government was looking for Spaniards willing to settle in Old Mexico on newly claimed land in the province of Sonora. Santiago jumped on the opportunity to move his family from strife-torn Spain, so in the fall of 1793 he settled his young family on his new tract of land in the Tubac Valley of southeastern Arizona. He wanted his children and grandchildren to grow up in a classless society, away from the aristocratic influence of Old Spain. In the span of a few years his wife Lucinda blessed him with four sons and two daughters, and he became very successful raising horses and cattle on his grant of twenty thousand acres.

Good times, however, did not last long for Santiago and his family. By 1840, there had been a revolution in Mexico in which the territory of Texas won its independence from Mexico. Political chaos in Sonora led to another Pima revolt, which began a slow migration of the Tubac population north to the valley near Tucson. Residents in the Tubac Valley had grown tired of the Pima revolts and the raiding of the Apaches, and with the abandonment of Tumacacori and the Tubac Presidio there no longer remained a safe refuge from the Apache depredations. By 1850, Santiago was the last original Spaniard in the valley. He and a handful of American and Mexican ranchers continued to maintain their ranches in the area despite the harsh conditions facing them. Here Santiago raised his family in relative peace, his sons working by his side in the raising of cattle and horses for the province of Sonora. His three oldest sons eventually died at the hands of Mangas Coloradas’s band, and when Santiago died in 1855, his youngest son Luis continued his legacy.

Life remained hard for the Acuña family. The Tubac Valley remained sparsely populated due to the constant raiding by the Apaches, yet for those who stayed in the valley life was good. Upward of thirty ranches of various sizes spread from the Santa Cruz Valley near Tubac north to the valley near Arivaca, and a small settlement remained in Tubac despite the abandonment of the mission at Tumacacori.

By 1858, Luis Acuña had married his childhood sweetheart, Agatha Baca. They settled down to raise their large brood of four sons and three daughters. Luis was an intense man who made his ranch the most successful operation in the valley. He had won the respect of the American ranchers who had settled in the valley alongside him.

This is the story of the clash between two very different cultures rich in history, sorrow and joy. It is a story of a proud and defiant native culture which fought desperately to preserve their freedom and nomadic way of life. Although the Apache mounted the most successful campaign against their American conquerors out of all the various Indian tribes, their destiny was to be defeated and to live a life on squalid reservations set aside for them far from their native lands. The Apaches’ tears will forever stain the ground of their homeland and their story will be forever intertwined with the settlers who fought against them.

Chapter 1

Don Luis Acuña was a wealthy man. His ancestors had sailed to the New World with Cortez, one of the many Spanish explorers who had come seeking Cibola, the City of Gold. When the land was conquered and the Spaniards established as the new ruling class, his grandfather and then his father had become land barons, running huge herds of cattle over thousands of acres of the Sonoran Desert into the southern reaches of the Territory of Arizona. Their land was some of the best in all of the Spanish provinces, with huge tracts of forest and high mountains and vast stretches of fertile farming and grazing valleys. The Acuñas settled in the northern reaches of the Pimeria Alta, an area set aside by the Spanish crown for the establishment of Jesuit and Franciscan missions with the purpose of converting the native peoples to the Catholic faith while teaching the benefits of civilized society.

By the time Don Luis inherited his father’s title and land, the Spanish missions were a thing of the past. What missions remained were abandoned and falling into ruin. The Mission of Tumacacori established near Tubac was deserted, its buildings left to erode in the heat of the desert sun and the winds and rains which swept over the valley. The former stockade surrounding the mission was occasionally used as a zone of protection from marauding bands of Apache, who continually raided the areas on their way to the safety of the Sierra Madre Mountains south of the border in Mexico.

The Tubac Valley was an oasis in the Sonoran Desert, surrounded by mountains and blessed with a water supply for most of the year, except when the summer drought set in. It was a harsh land for those who did not know the way of the desert, but it provided a livelihood in the way of ranching and farming for those willing to work the land. Don Luis was the most successful of the ranchers who lived in the area and he raised his family with the confidence of a man able to provide for his loved ones even in the roughest of times.

For as long as anyone could remember, the Apaches had been the bitter enemies of the Mexicans in Sonora, or, as they called them, the Nakai-yes. Open warfare had been passed down from one generation to the next. The Apaches raided into Mexico in search of horses, cattle, trade goods, and most of all, captives. Many Nakai-yes were taken from their homes to become members of the Apache, and many of the women were adopted into the tribe and later married braves who had lost their mates or had need of another wife. Women always outnumbered men in the tribe due to the nature of warfare and its expected losses due to death and disease. This was a common custom that dated back to the early days of Spanish conquest when Spanish soldiers took native women as their brides. Mexican natives were displaced by the Mestizos, a result of this intermarriage among races.

Although many Spanish families had once made their homes in the Tubac Valley, only the Acuñas and a few others remained. The others had fled the valley over the years after losing loved ones to the Apaches or had grown tired of the racial prejudice of the white Americans who followed in their footsteps. Mexican independence had signaled the end of the three-hundred-year period of Spanish rule and most of the original Spaniards had fled the valley and had retreated into Mexico or returned to the motherland of Spain.

Don Luis could not be shaken into giving up the land that his father and grandfather had worked to establish as a safe home for their families. The fourth generation of Acuñas now lived on the huge rancheria and Don Luis would eventually pass the land on to his four sons. Nothing could make him lose that special feeling for the place that was his home. Here he felt at peace with the world. He was satisfied with the hand God had dealt him. Life was forever changing around him, but here on his land he felt safe from the incursions of the world outside of his boundaries.

Chapter 2

It was only the first week of April 1871, but it seemed to be a much earlier than usual summer. The ferocious sun roasted anything that moved and the dust settled on everything in a gritty blanket. The air was brittle dry. The countryside lay barren and thirsty, every plant burned brown. There was not a hint of anything living as far as the eye could see. The winter rains had failed to come and spring was fast relenting to an early and unwanted summer.

Don Luis was worried. The hay crop was already ruined, which meant it would be an exhausting challenge to feed his stock over the next fall and winter. All he could do was hope that the fall would be a wet one and the winter mild enough to support a winter crop. He thanked his lucky stars that he had not sold any of his last year’s hay crops in anticipation that it would be needed this year. Times had been hard the last couple of seasons due to the drought and he could only hope that the upcoming summer monsoon season would bring relief to the parched land. Without rain, he would have to cut his cattle herd in half and that would mean a terrible loss.

As he sat on his horse surveying the surrounding countryside, a lone rider approached from the direction of the family hacienda. As the rider neared, Don Luis saw that it was his oldest son, Eduardo.

Buenos Dias, Papa, Eduardo said as he drew up alongside. I’ve been looking for you all morning.

Buenos Dias, my son. I’ve been out since sunrise checking the herd. I found four more dead calves in the north pasture. If this drought continues we’ll lose a lot more, Don Luis replied. Where are your brothers?

Estevan and Ricardo rode out to fix the gate at the horse corral, Eduardo explained, and Miguel took Mama into Tubac for supplies. They’ll be back by noon.

Let’s go together to check out the rest of the herd before siesta time, Don Luis ordered. Vamanos! The two men wheeled their horses to the west and anyone who saw them would be hard pressed to tell them apart.

Like his father, Eduardo was of medium height and stocky build, with an aquiline nose and broad face burned brown by the sun. Both men had a pencil thin mustache so common to their breed, and both wore their thick black hair combed back from the forehead and held in place by their straw sombreros. Their black eyes shone like obsidian, and they rode in that graceful lope of men born to the saddle. Both favored the leather chaps worn by vaqueros and wore long sleeved cotton shirts and bandanas draped around the neck.

Eduardo revered his father. As the oldest son, he had always been expected to excel in all things. Don Luis could be very demanding at times and quick to temper when work on the huge ranch went undone. Eduardo lived to please his father, knowing that someday the responsibility of running the ranch would fall on his shoulders. He looked forward to that day by working obsessively, even forsaking marriage for the time being. Everything he did was for the purpose of pleasing his father.

As the two men rode across the valley, Don Luis brooded. Things had not been going well on the ranch and he feared the big changes all around him. Ever since the United States had won the war against Mexico in 1848, new laws had radically changed the way of life in the valley and throughout the Arizona territory. Where the Catholic Church had once held domain over the territory, now the American government had become the law of the land.

When the Spanish first came to Mexico, Mother Church had granted huge tracts of land to the Spanish barons who established themselves as ranchers in the valley. Now the new territorial government was systematically dividing these former rancherias into homestead parcels for American citizens. Although Don Luis still held title to his land, he knew it was only a matter of time before his right of ownership was brought into question. This change was inevitable, as was the demise of the Indian cultures that had preceded the Spanish. One by one the Spanish barons had been forced out of the territory, their land taken and their stock sold at auction for taxes never incurred while under Spanish rule.

Don Luis could only hope that he would be spared the cruel fate of his fellow barons in the Tubac Valley. He had always been forthright with those in authority and had paid the taxes imposed upon him on time. His forefathers had once been sheepherders in Spain and he held no lofty attitude of being above the American law. He never used his position as a land owner to influence the local authorities, thus earning the trust and respect of those in power. His wealth and position had come through hard work and tenacity while overcoming the unpredictable weather and the rogue bands of Apaches who continued to raid the valley as they always had. He never gave in to either the raids or to the weather and he had raised his sons to be fighters, not quitters.

As the two men rode over the crest of a small rise in the trail, they reined their horses to a quick stop.

Papa, what is that smoke in the distance? Eduardo queried.

Something is ablaze at the Romero ranch, maybe their hacienda, Don Luis replied. He hoped against hope that the fire was only brush being burned and not the Romero home. The Romero ranch lay just northeast of the Acuña spread at the base of the Santa Rita Mountains.

Just then a peppering of gunfire sounded from the direction of the Romero hacienda. Both men looked at each other in consternation, and as one they grabbed their Winchester carbines from their saddle pommels and wheeled toward the hacienda at a full gallop. The gunfire had risen in intensity, a sure sign of an Apache raid.

It had been some time since the last Apache raid in the valley, a sure sign that things were not going well on the reservation at San Carlos. Times were very hard on the Apaches and had been since they were forced off their land in the White Mountains. San Carlos was a horrid place for the Apaches, far from their beloved mountains, on a flat and dusty plateau in eastern Arizona near the New Mexico border. The alkali water there was bitter to the taste and the fierce heat and dust of the desert plateau was not conducive to growing any crops. The Apaches there were dying of starvation and disease. They seldom received the rations promised them by the treaty they signed with the government so that raiding parties frequently rode out from the reservation in search of livestock and provisions critical to the survival of the tribe. These raiders often chose a route across the Tubac Valley into the province of Sonora south of the U.S. border into their hideouts in the rugged heights of the Sierra Madre Mountains.

The sound of gunfire faded as father and son spurred toward the Romero ranch, an indication that the raid was over. Within a few minutes, Don Luis and Eduardo reached the fence line of their neighbors and from there they could easily see the billowing smoke of the hacienda on fire. It had become eerily quiet all of a sudden, and the two men feared the worst as they approached the smoking buildings of the hacienda. It was deathly still in the courtyard of the house, which was in smoking ruin, as were the barn and other buildings on the property.

Go check the back of the house, Eduardo, Don Luis commanded. I’ll check in the remains of the house and the barn.

Don Luis swung down from his horse and walked toward the house in trepidation. He knew what he was going to find, and as he stepped onto the ruins of the blackened porch to view the burned ruins of the house he gagged as he stumbled over the body of Ramon Romero lying across the threshold. Ramon’s head had been caved in by a war club and his scalp removed in a grisly fashion.

Inside the rubble of the house lay the rest of the Romero family; Juanita, Ramon’s wife; his daughters, Felina and Rosita; his sons, Pedro and Paco. All dead! All of them scalped! All of them with eyes staring vacantly, their faces contorted in terrible anguish and pain!

The sight of his former neighbors and friends sickened Don Luis as he stared at the carnage before him. He stumbled out of the smoldering ruins of the house onto the remains of the porch, falling on his hands and knees as he emptied the bile from his mouth and stomach. He was in a daze, unable to believe the savagery of the attack and the cruelty of the Apaches who had done this terrible deed. It was clearly a random act of violence committed by renegades seeking retribution on settlers who occupied the Apaches’ former land. Most times the Apaches would take women and children as captives to replace members of the tribe who had died in battle or by starvation. This raid had been made purely out of hatred for the White Man and with brutality seldom seen by Don Luis.

Papa, Papa! Eduardo screamed as he came running around the corner of the burned house. All the ranch hands are dead, spread out around the back of the house. All the livestock from the corral and barn are gone too!

Eduardo’s eyes bulged out in terror as he saw his father sprawled in the dust of the front yard. They’re all dead, hiĵo, all of them scalped! Don Luis groaned in despair.

Eduardo stepped onto the ruined porch and took a quick glance inside the rubble of the house. As his mind registered what his eyes were seeing, he staggered off of the porch and fell to the ground beside his father. Why, Papa? Why would they do this? he cried.

My son, how can I explain this to you? The Apaches are doing what they have been taught to do by their enemies; first the Spanish, then the Mexicans and now the Americans. Each of these has stolen their land, raped and murdered their women, killed or put into captivity their children. It is not right what they do, but they are fighting for survival. It is because of the ignorant white men that families like the Romeros become innocent victims of the Apaches’ wrath. You must ride in great haste to the Presidio of Tubac and sound the alarm. I will ride home and gather those who are there. Hopefully your mother and brother will still be in Tubac where they will be safe. We will all be safe there. Go quickly! Now!

Eduardo looked at his father and nodded, the tears still running from his eyes. He quickly launched himself into the saddle and galloped off toward Tubac. Be careful, son! implored Don Luis. Vaya con Dios! As Eduardo disappeared down the trail, Don Luis stepped into the ruins of the house one more time and muttered, Forgive me, Ramon and Juanita. I cannot stay. I must ride home to my family and warn them of this attack. I’ll be back later with others to give you a proper burial.

Don Luis turned and with bent head and misty eyes he grabbed the reins of his horse and climbed into the saddle. Good-bye for now, amigos. Then with quiet regret, he urged his horse into a gallop to gather his loved ones at the Presidio of Tubac.

Chapter 3

The crowd of ranchers and townspeople gathered in front of the general store in Tubac was boisterous and angry. We’ve got to avenge the Romeros! One rancher yelled above the noise of the crowd. Death to any Apache vermin we find between here and the border! Don Luis had feared this kind of reaction to the brutal killing of the Romeros.

We can’t allow ourselves to act like barbarians! he pleaded with the crowd.

Are we just going to stand by and let them get away with bloody murder? yelled another.

Who are them? questioned Don Luis. We have no idea which band of Apaches did this. Are we going to just go out and kill any Apache we can find?

Yea, let’s go out and do just that! yelled another man. Them damn heathens don’t care who they murder, do they?

As the crowd continued to argue, a man in the back elbowed his way to the front of the mob. As he stepped onto the porch of the store all eyes recognized him and the noise and the arguing quickly subsided.

Listen to you talk! said the local priest, Padre Nacho. You sound no better than those you call savages!

Nacho was a small man, barely five and a half feet tall, lithe and wiry, with a thick shock of salt and pepper colored hair, a dark complexion that betrayed his Apache-Basque blood, and jet black eyes that burned with intensity as he surveyed every face in the crowd.

Is this the way you honor the Romeros and their hired hands, by inciting an Indian war against any Apaches you can find? Shame on you! he berated the crowd. Why not start with me since I am half Apache? Take my life if that will make you feel any better!

Don Luis glanced at the crowd and saw every head bowed in shame. It grew so quiet he could hear the sound of flies buzzing around the produce that stood in bins across the porch of the store. Not a word was muttered as the crowd stood in quiet respect of the fiery Padre.

Go home, now! Nacho ordered. Show your respect for the Romeros by attending their funeral mass and burial in the morning. I mean it, go home. Now!

Don Luis couldn’t help but smile to himself. No matter what crisis plagued the locals, Nacho always had a way of calming them down and making them feel ashamed for their actions. He deeply respected Nachos’s power over the people of the valley, as time after time he was able to prevent others from seeking retribution against various bands of Indians in the vicinity. Nacho knew that the majority of Apaches were innocent of the deprivations against the settlers in the valley, and Don Luis was thankful that nobody ever defied the priest’s orders to leave the peaceful Apaches alone and prevent random killing. How long he would be able to continue doing this was anyone’s guess, as more and more of the ranchers were getting tired of the frequent raids made by renegade bands of Apache.

As the crowd began to disperse, Don Luis turned to shake the hand of his good friend. Gracias, Padre. You couldn’t have timed your arrival any better!

Por nada, Don Luis, Nacho responded. I expected this to happen when you arrived with the terrible news of the raid on the Romero ranch. I don’t know how much longer some of these ranchers are going to listen to me. Only God knows how much more the men in this valley will endure before they take matters into their own hands. I understand their anger over the raiding and killing, but I pray they will not seek vengeance on the peaceful Arivaipas or Papagos. It is always the innocent who suffer, and my heart breaks each and every time another killing is done.

I know, Nacho, Don Luis agreed. It is indeed reaching the point that the vigilantes will seek to accomplish what the American soldiers have not, getting the hostiles corralled on a reservation or killing each and every one of them.

I pray that my mother’s people will be spared any more wanton killings, Don Luis. Most of my Apache relatives are at San Carlos living in abject poverty, those that haven’t been killed by warfare and disease. My life is filled with grief and despair from seeing the hatred take hold on both sides of my family. Nacho’s torture was apparent to Don Luis, and he felt the same despair as his old friend did.

As the two men started to depart in separate directions, Don Luis once again offered his hand to the good Padre. Bless you, Father, for your courage and fortitude. Please know that I am indebted to you for your work here. I know it is not at all easy to see your loved ones pulled apart by this racial hatred. I can only hope and pray for you to continue your mission of achieving peace in the valley.

Bless you too, my son, Nacho said reverently. Pray for me, Don Luis, to find an answer to all this killing and hatred. Sometimes, even I have no understanding of God’s plan for all of us. Nacho gave Don Luis a final shake of the hand and smiled a thin smile. Go home to your family, Don Luis, and give them my blessing.

Nacho turned and walked away, his head bowed in deep thought.

Don Luis stared at the good Padre as he disappeared down the road to the church and praised God for the gift of this wonderful man. He climbed atop his trusty horse, turned in the saddle for a final look at the departing priest and resignedly spurred toward home.

Bless this family we lay to rest this morning, and accept them into your heavenly Kingdom. Nacho’s voice wavered as the good priest concluded the prayers for the Romero family. Among the large crowd gathered for the service, sobs of grief and noses being blown could be heard above the Padre’s words. Most families in the area were in attendance at the solemn occasion, including those bent on revenge on any Apaches to be found from Tucson to the Mexican border.

Don Luis stood with his family as the service ended and people began making their way home. Off to the side a small group of men was gathering around Clay Goodwell, a local rancher who hated all Indians, Apache or not. Don Luis suspected that trouble was brewing, so he called for his four sons to join him to hear what the men were discussing. As the Acuña men approached the group, they heard the deep voice of Clay Goodwell.

We need to hit them stinking Injuns before they kill any more of us! Goodwell exclaimed. Who’s with me?

I, for one! shouted Pat Dixon, a good friend of Goodwell’s.

Count me in! yelled another man from the crowd.

Me too! shouted three or four others.

Don Luis turned to face the group, eying each man as he raised his hand to silence them.

Where will you find these Apache? he asked the men. Were they Victorio’s or Geronimo’s band? Or were they Nana’s or Cochise’s Chiricahua bands?

Stay out of this, you dirty Injun lover! exclaimed Clay Goodwell. You’re always standing up for that half-breed Padre and his heathen brothers. It’s time we got rid of them all!

Don Luis shook his head in disgust as most of the men in the group applauded Goodwell’s words. You’ll only make things worse for everyone in the valley, he said. The renegades are probably long gone into Sonora by now. Do you intend chasing them into Mexico?

Don Luis could plainly see the look of doubt and concern on many of the faces before him. I have a better idea, he stated. "Let me ride to Cochise’s stronghold and ask