USA > California > Riverside County > History of Riverside County, California > Part 23
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sold $3,000 worth of land to General Boughton. A dispute arose over the settlement, in which the Wakefields claimed that they had been grossly defrauded. Prompted by the thought of securing the sum of money in dispute, young Wakefield persuaded two other boys of about his age to join him in what proved to be a fatal undertaking. Knowing that General Boughton would leave the val- ley in the middle of the night, in order to take a 3 o'clock train at San Gorgonio, young Wakefield planned with his companions to hold up the general at some lonely spot on the mountain grade and there force him to deliver the sum of money in dispute. The boys waited at the place selected, and when Boughton's rig approached they proceeded to hold it up in the regulation bandit style. At the pistol point Boughton and Collins, his driver, were compelled to alight. The team was unhitched and turned loose, and Collins was tied to a wheel of the wagon. General Boughton's hands were tied behind his back, and he was led away across the rough foot- hills. They boys had taken Boughton's word that he was unarmed. and the general afterward declared that he believed he was so, and that it was only when in endeavoring to loosen his hands he accidently touched the butt of his revolver, that he remembered that his wife had insisted on putting the weapon in his pocket before he left Los Angeles. As the captors and the prisoner passed along in the inky darkness the general succeeded in twisting his hands out of the bands that bound them. Quickly grasping his pistol he fired rapidly about him in the darkness. He heard one person fall and others running. Boughton returned to the wagon loosed Collins, and together they secured the team and returned to San Jacinto, where the general gave himself up, admitting that he had killed one man and perhaps wounded others. He had no idea as to the identity of the hold-ups. A number of men gathered and return was quickly made to the scene of the midnight hold-up. A short distance from the grade, where the team was stopped, the searchers were horror-struck to see by the first beams of day- break the prostrate form of 16-year-old Clarence Wakefield. His fair, wavy, brown locks were wet with morning dew, and on his face Death's pallor had long since chilled Life's ruddy current. Slowly and sadly the body was carried to the wagon and taken to the home of the widowed mother. The other boys who partici- pated in this daring, reckless outlawry remained hidden in the hills
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for weeks, and one of them made his way into Arizona. But as General Boughton gave out that he would not appear against them, they finally returned to their homes. This is one of the saddest chapters of the valley's history. The boys really had no intention of harming anyone. They wished only to compel Boughton to restore to the widow the money they thought was rightfully hers. Unfortunately, their course of procedure was most unwise and disastrous.
The early settlers lived in peace with the Indians, and it was only when "firewater" had kindled to life the latent savagery in the breasts of the peaceful Sobobas that white people had cause for apprehension. A night of terror, spent by Mrs. J. M. Logsdon and children in the late '70s, forms a thrilling story. Mr. Logsdon and the eldest son, Ed, had gone to San Bernardino for house- hold supplies, leaving Mrs. Logsdon and the smaller children on the ranch. The road from San Bernardino to Soboba ran near the house, and Indians passing to and from were a common sight. On this eventful evening wild whoops from the west, and clattering pony hoofs told of a party of Indians returning from San Bernar- dino much the worse for whiskey. Warning the children to pay no heed to the Indians, the mother went about her household duties, and the younger boys, Joe and Jim, were told to continue with the milking in the cow corral near by, hoping by this display of appar- ent indifference that the Indians would pass by, as they had many times before, without giving any trouble. However, this time they were looking for trouble, and after parleying with the boys for a time at the corral, they rode up to the garden gate, muttering and angry. Falling off their ponies in confusion they began battering at the gate lock with their heavy six-shooters. Finally an entrance was effected, and the drunken Indians, seven of them, crowded into the yard, demanding whiskey and flour. The boys had come from the corral, and Joe secured the shotgun, but his mother had him put it away, determined that only in the gravest necessity would they resort to such measures for protection. One of the Indians gave Mrs. Logsdon to understand that he was a friend who had worked for her husband, and that he would, if possible, save them from harm. This Indian, Frank Silvas, finally did succeed, by coaxing and crowding, to get them out of the house, through the gate, and onto their ponies, and by riding behind, actually herded
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the desperate characters away from the house, but only for a short distance, when they dismounted, built a fire and declared that they would wait there until the white family slept, when they would return to murder and plunder. Mrs. Logsdon fully realized the desperate straits she and her children were in and prepared for the worst. Directing one of the children to write a note giving the details of the attack, and placing the friendly Indian, Frank Silvas, free from blame, the mother pinned the note to her bonnet and threw the bonnet over the fence at the rear of the yard, among the bushes on the hillside. Hours of terror followed. Late in the " night the mother, listening at a partly-raised window, heard nothing of the mutterings, punctuated with blood-curdling yells, and realized that their enemies had fallen into the heavy stupor of drunken- ness. But the mother allowed herself no sleep that night. As the day was dawning gray above Mount San Jacinto she saw through the darkness shadowy forms silently mount horses and ride away to the eastward-she and her children were saved! The brave pioneer mother acknowledged that a kind Heavenly Father had once more kept her and hers from the perils that lurked in the new born West. Upon Mr. Logsdon's return the matter was reported to the captain of Soboba. Arrests followed, and at the trial Frank Silvas' testimony, corroborated by that of the Logsdons, resulted in the conviction of Silvas' companions. A few weeks later Frank Silvas' body was found lying in the water motes with a bullet hole through the head, presumably the result of the hatred of the con- victed tribesmen. Thus brave Frank Silvas paid the cost of be- friending a white mother and her children, and saving them from the passions of his whiskey-inflamed companions.
FIRST INHABITANTS-INDIANS
The very first inhabitants of the valley lived in caves in the mountain sides during the cold months and in summer moved out into shacks built of tule, willow and water mote. The warm, adobe house was unknown until after the advent of the Franciscan Fath- ers. A few of the old winter homes are still to be found about the foothills. One in a good state of preservation is north of Valle Vista, on a high cliff near the north bank of the San Jacinto river. Their dress was of the skins of wild animals-wildcats, deer, ante- lope, goats, mountain lions, etc. The fibre of different plants was used for thread. The weapons of war and for providing food were
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the bow and arrow, the tomahawk and the machete, a smooth, straight stick about one and one-half feet in length and two inches in diameter. This latter is still used by the Sobobans with great skill. Living so far from the ocean, and there being no fish in the mountain streams, the Indians of this valley never acquired a taste for fish. Deer, antelope and rabbits furnished the principal meat diet. Acorns and chia were ground into meal, taking the place of flour. This chia grows wild today on nearly all parts of the mesa land, and it is a common sight to see an old Indian woman gathering the grain in her fibre-woven basket. Many years ago the only. . battle ever fought in this section was waged because of a dispute over this self-same chia-the destruction of Ivah, or the battle of Massacre canyon.
It was a fight to the death-a fight in which the victor gave no mercy, the vanquished sought none. The old people of Soboba all know the story well. Their dull blood rushes through their veins with all the warmth and vigor of youth as they tell of their sister village's massacre. Old Victoriana, who died in 1890 at the age of one hundred and thirty-six years, used to tell the story of the battle, giving its date as "maybe three hundred and fifty years ago." There had been a series of years of drought in all parts of the land. In the Temecula valley chia was a complete failure, and the Temec- ulas, who were of another tribe distinctly separate from the seven villages of this valley, came here in search of grain. On the broad, sandy plain at the lower end of the valley they found quantities of chia, which they proceeded to gather, ignoring the fact that it be- longed to the village of Ivah, situated near the present Relief Hot Springs. The chief of Ivah and a few advisors went out to remon- strate with the intruders, but the fierce Temeculas were sulky, de- termined and desperate. While the chiefs of the two tribes were parleying, a treacherous Temecula shot an arrow at the Chieftian Ivah, grazing so close to him as to cut away a feather in his head dress. To talk of peaceful measures was no longer possible. The gauntlet was now down, the die was cast; blood was the only thing that could wash away the insult! Hurriedly returning to Ivah, a council of war was held and preparations were at once begun to go against these stranger foes the following day. Long before the first beams of daylight shone above old San Jacinto, the whole of the fighting population was in battle array and moving toward the
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enemy. The old men say that the sun rose that morning a ball of blood, and all that day it traveled through the heavens a disc of brightest red, looking down upon the surging mass, struggling below. All day long the battle raged; all day long the whistle of the arrow and the sickening thud of the deadly tomahawk were heard. The wild war whoop that startled the hillsides in early morning was not hushed till the last red gleam of the bleeding sun faded into darkness. Across the level stretches of the mesa, then down to the tableland and on to the timbered lowlands, the brave but outnumbered Ivahs were forced steadily, stubbornly northward. Finally, a large re-enforcement coming to aid the foes, the Ivahs turned and fled into a narrow canyon with precipitous walls. Some distance from the mouth of this canyon is a perpendicular wall directly across its bed and completely shutting off further advance. With their backs against this wall of rock the small handful of braves left to defend the honor of Ivah there sold their lives as dearly as they could, only "stopping the fight to die," as Victoriana put it. Thus Massacre canyon received its name, given it many years after by early white settlers, who heard from the old Indians how the best of fair Ivah went down to their death.
Early in the nineteenth century smallpox was introduced among the Mission Indians of Southern California by a sailor who landed at San Diego. The disease was unknown to California Indians and they used the same remedy as in other fevers, that is, the sweat and cold plunge. It proved to be the most fatal treatment they could have hit upon. Their people died like sheep-whole villages being depopulated. In their terror the stricken ones fled from the village, spreading certain death as they went. Thus the dread disease swept and spread for weeks and months, and when it had run its course village upon village was wiped out of existence, and in this great valley, where before there were seven happy villages, the smallpox scourge left but one remaining-Soboba. It is said on authority that at the beginning of the nineteenth century the Indian popula- tion of the San Jacinto and Santa Ana valleys was 6,000. At the present time the Indians of this entire part of the state, extending to Fresno, is about 3,000. The terrible smallpox plague is directly responsible for this fearful loss.
The government maintained by the villages or colonies was pa- triarchal. An ambitious brave would gather up his family and
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property and choose some fertile spot near a natural spring or run- ning stream. Though other families in time gathered about, he still remained the chief of the village, the power passing from father to eldest son. This right of leadership was never disputed, and appar- ently the only way for one to get into politics in those days was to go and found a village of his own! Old Victoriana was the last of the heriditary chiefs of Soboba. When he became too old to act in that capacity (about 1875) the people of the village elected their captain, for the term of one year, the election to be approved by the Indian department at Washington. This form of local govern- ment is the one now in use.
According to Indian legendary lore this valley was at one time a great inland lake. The devil, in the shape of a sea serpent, used to inhabit this lake. Algoot was the Indian hero that battled with this monster. Algoot took great masses of rock from Mount San Jacinto, which he hurled at the devil. The serpent threshed about and with his tail knocked a passage through the western hills through which the waters rushed and drained the valley dry. The small hills that lie about the south and west side of the valley were thrown there by Algoot in his fight with this monster.
There is also an Indian legend to the effect that Hemet valley in the San Jacinto mountains was at one time a lake with an outlet on the eastern side into the desert. A great earthquake opened a passage on the west through which the water now passes, and at the head of which the Hemet dam is built.
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE SAN JACINTO INDIANS.
[For this brief sketch of local Indian history the writer is indebted to Mrs. W. P. Fowler, who taught the Soboba school for twelve years and was the first teacher employed by the government among the Mission Indians of California.]
Many years ago, about the time of Montezuma, a band of south- ern Indians, footsore and weary with the tiresome journey across the hot desert sands came into San Jacinto valley. They passed the night in rest around the hot springs, which the Spanish, long years after named Agua Caliente, and that are now known as the Soboba Lithia Springs. In the morning they ascended the hill above the springs, and their priest, who was also their patriarch, smoked the sunrise pipe, blowing the smoke north, south, east and west; thus taking possession of this great valley in the name of the only god
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they knew-the glorious sun. As the sun rose in his matin beauty they worshiped him in song and dance and prayer.
The tradition has it that they found in the valley a few inferior people, who knew nothing of any industries, except the chase for food and what grew out of the necessity of securing clothing for the cold weather. It seems that these early inhabitants were also sun worshipers, but less intelligent than those who came from the south. It may safely be said that sun-worship was the earliest religion in the San Jacinto valley, and that the believers in the sun god had lived and died in that faith for at least 1,000 years.
They called their first village Ivah, and it was built at the Relief Hot Springs. As the years passed the families had multiplied until there were six villages, all wisely placed near springs of water. Soboba, extending along the bench at the foot of San Jacinto moun- tain, owned not only the never-failing artesian spring that is still the property of the village, but also the sulphur springs on the north, now the health resort, Soboba Lithia Springs. Near the center of the valley, where the town of San Jacinto is now, was Ju-sis-pah, some- times called Hua-chip-pah. In Webster's canyon, on the road to Idyllwild, was built A-ra-rah. Big Springs ranch, where there were three large springs, had the village of Pah-sit-nah, one of the larg- est villages of the valley. Corova, the most northern village, was in Castillo canyon. Three of these names contain the syllable "pah," which in the Indian language means water. So-bo-ba means a warm place and Co-ro-va a cool place.
Their houses in an early day were made for summer of tule and the branches of trees, much like the ramadas of the present day-just a shelter from the heat. Their winter homes were built of the branches of water mote fastened to poles that were tied to four posts, with rawhide thongs. The roof was of tule and the interstices were filled with adobe mud. These were warm enough for the southern climate, but not very sanitary.
No great variety was found in their food, for it was mostly meat-bear, deer, wild goat and wild sheep, which were abundant in the mountains, also the gray and black squirrels. Antelope and rabbits in the canyons and valley gave them opportunity for one of the delights of their life, the chase. Wild birds were plentiful, too; ducks, geese, swans and eagles or condors for the large birds, and mountain and valley quail in great quantities for the smaller varie-
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ties. Nothing that we could call bread was found in the daily menu of these Indians before the time of the Missions. They ate mush, called biote, made of acorn meal; pinole, which was made of wild grains, parched and broken in a mortar, such as chia, a gray seed about the size and shape of our flax seed, that grows on one of the button plants of this valley; wild buckwheat, and others. Vege- tables were used. Comote, one variety of yucca, was cooked and eaten like cabbage. As only the petals of the flower were used, it was a very delicate dish. They also baked the flower stem of the comote, which is very much like the tender stock of sugar cane. Many roots were eaten, which were baked in ashes; some water plants, such as water cress and pepper grass, they were very fond of, too.
Naturally, as the Indians lived mostly on the results of the chase, it was one of their most enjoyable experiences. The hunt and the feasts that followed were their main recreations. The weapons for the hunt were very primitive, bows and arrows and clubs, and for the larger game, rough traps. At their feasts, many of them religious, they danced, men and women separately, and played games of chance, as they still do. Their government was patriarchal, the head of the family deciding all important questions, and each village was really one great family. As to religion they were like the Mexican Indians, sun worshippers. A great rock was used as a sacrificial altar, very much as in the temples in Mexico. They had their matins, or sunrise prayers and songs, and believed that the sun was the great god who controlled all things. They also believed in spirits that manifested themselves to the people, that were evil and good influences in Nature and also in human beings. Their music was the sonaja or rattle, whistles made of bone, and a few other primitive instruments. They told their folk- lore stories, of which the women have always been the custodians, and sang to the sun in low, chanting voices at their feasts. This is one of their interesting stories :
In the beginning the great god Cocomot made images of mud, in each locality where the different tribes were to be located, and then he breathed into them life; so the Indians are part of the great god Cocomot. After long, long years, Comustomho, the son of Cocomot, came to the earth from the sky, and many of the old Indians
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saw him. So they know the story is true, but the white people do not know this story, for there were no white men then.
Comustomho appeared at first on the coast of Lower Califor- nia, then he came up the Gulf of California, and up the Colorado river to where the Cocopahs lived, for his father, Cocomot, had sent him to see all the different tribes. While with the Cocopahs he died. Then the Cocopahs put the body in their best and swiftest canoe and came quickly up the Colorado river to the Yumas. All the Yumas and the tribes of the desert and the mountains gathered to see this wonderful body, that was so white and not like an Indian. As they watched and wondered, fire came from the sky and burned the body of this son of their god.
On this story is based the old Indians' only strong belief in a resurrection. They believed, and the Cocopahs and the Yumas still believe, they must burn the body of their dead, so that the spirit may be released to go to live with Cocomot and his son, Comus- tomho. This is only one of their many stories of the creation of man.
Capt. Roques Jauro, to whom I am indebted for nearly all of this historia de Soboba, as he called it, and who was a remarkably intelligent man, always insisted that before the time of the padres, his people had traditions of the coming of a god that in his essence and mission was the counterpart of the Christ.
The Indians of the San Jacinto valley have never been very warlike; not so much so as the Cahuillas. During the Mission days, it is said, the Piutes, who were great horse and cattle thieves, swept into the San Jacinto valley to drive off stock, but the local Indians routed them, after a lively skirmish, near the west mountain: I have been told, too, that Victoriana, the last chief of Soboba, was wounded in the battle, and that he was a captain of the valley In- dians. He was at that time only about nineteen years old.
The coming of the Franciscans and the establishment of the Mis- sions brought a change to the people of this valley, religiously and materially. Soon after the establishment of missionary stations, and before the building of San Diego and San Luis Rey Missions, priests, soldiers and a retinue of Indians came into the beautiful valley of San Jacinto, one hot day in August, and gave the valley and the highest mountain peak the "Saint" name whose day it was. August 16th was San Jacinto, or Saint Hyacinth Day, and the priests set up an altar where the town of San Jacinto now stands, called by
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the Indians Hua-chip-pah, and celebrated mass, in this way giving the Indians their first knowledge of the true God; telling them of a living Father who wants the love of our hearts rather than the sacrifice of human lives-that was the central doctrine of their old priests' teaching.
The loving way of their first teachers of Christianity, as well as the pageantry and pomp of the celebration of the first altar service, appealed to the Indians, and resulted in some of the young men joining the expedition and going to San Luis Rey and San Gabriel for training in this new religion. They made very good proselytes, many of them, although some of the old people, nominal Christians, never gave up the worship of the sun.
Besides the religious training the padres gave them, they taught the men different trades, so that they could do all the necessary. work of their villages, and the brighter ones were taught instru- mental music, singing, and to read and write Spanish. Some even learned the church ritual in Latin. The women learned the domes- tic arts, and are still fine needle workers and basket makers. It seems strange that women who had used only a clumsy bone needle and the rough, coarse thread, made from the fibre of plants, should so quickly gain the power of expressing their love of beauty by the most exquisite needle work.
LEGEND OF TAUQUITZ (TAU-QUISH).
Every village in Southern California has its own version of this, the most weird and oftenest-told legend of all their folklore. A young boy of Soboba told it to me early in the '80s, and I shall give it very nearly in his own words, as follows:
A great many years ago, maybe a thousand, there was a young Indian named Tauquitz, who was anxious to carry off a beautiful girl who lived in the San Jacinto valley; her name was Amutat, and she was so beautiful that all the young men were quarrelling about her. One bright night the Indian people made a feast around a great fire, where the town of San Jacinto is now built. When the women were singing and dancing, Tauquitz slipped in where there were many trees, and in the shadows caught the girl and ran with her. He was a large, strong man and could run very fast, and he started to take her up to what the Americans call Strawberry valley, for that was his home.
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