The Osceola times., 1884-12-06

/ INclJCtst GOiblhtiabit atC't tAit aftiaEt
of Californian aborigines. During oneof
his equestrian waEderings, young Frank
Willard came upon one of the rancherias
of this tribe, at that time situated upon
the western bank of the Russian River,
and within few hundred yards % the
precipice now known as Squaw's Rock.
1t was there that he enc luntered Bonita,
laughter of Big Bull, one of the sub
chiefs of the tribe, maiden Of rare
beauty, with complexion AS pure and
clear as a Castilian, and form Of won
derful symmetry and grace. AT that
impressionable age to see was to love.
Young Willard saw his fate, and the
fame was reciprocated. But there were
the usual difficulties in the way. Not
only were the youths parents scanda-
lized beyond expression at the idea of
their son aliying himself to an Indian,
but the Indians themselves. with true
tribal pride, resented the idea Of such
union. Still love, as usual, laughed at
locksmiths, and Franks absence from
the hacienda upon riding expeditions Of
questionable utility became more and
more noticeable as the weeks wore on.
There were stolen interviews with Bonita
in the chaparral near the rancheria. at
one Of which the loving couple were sur
prised by the old chief, when Frank
was warned that such interviews must
cease forever, under pain of the dire re-
sentiment of the tribe. The fair Bonita
had, he was told, been betrothed TO
Domingo. gallant of her race, and the
nuptial ceremony was to be performed
in the course Of week, on which oc-
casion grand fandango was to be held,
nj which the whole trioe would partici-
pate.
From that time forth Bonita was not
permitted 10 go outside the bounds of
the rancheria, though solitary horse
man, presumed to be Frank Willard,
could still be seen daily riding among
the adjacent hills. At length the day of
the fandango arrived. The large adobe
building in which the orgy was to be
held was filed at an carly hour in the
evening with as motley an assemblage
of squaws and bucks as ever appeared at
such gathering. The weeping Bonita
was led in, bedecked with as much poor
finery as the wardrobe of the tribe afford
ed, and at her side stood Domingo with
a triumphant expression on his coarse
and repulsive countenance. Dancing
was engaged in around fire built on the
ground in the centre Of the building (it
was winter, the smoke from which as.
cended in wreaths to the cone shaped
ceiling through hole in which it issued
to the outer air. Squaws danced with
squaws, and bucks danced with bucks,
as the invariable custom is. Under the
influence of aguardiente, of which there
was liberal supply, the orgy waxed
wild and furious. Suddenly it was re-
marked that Bonita had disappeared
while Domingo was engaged in dancing.
In an instant deaiening howl was set
up. and the motley gathering rushed
pell-mell from the building, spreading
hither and thither with pine torches and
glowing firebrands in quest of the miss
ing maiden. Presently shout went up
from and outlying quarter. A general
rush was made thither. Just at the lin
its of the rancheria stood horse, on
which was seated Frank Willard, while
running toward it, and now only few
yards away, appeared Bonita. A second
or two more and she would have reach
ed the horse and been swung into the
saddle by the strong arm OF her lover,
when. hapless fatel an arrow whizzed
through the air, piercing the flank of the
animal. With bound the spirited
beast leaped forward, the abrupt move
ment throwing the poor youth out Of
the saddle. In an instant he was on his
feet, with one arm round the maiden,
while with his revolver he covered the
approaching Indians. Six shots rang
out in sharp succession, and three swar
thy forms fell groaning to the ground
But what chance had the poor boy
against the superior numbers of the now
maddened barbarians. Frank was quick
| ly overpowered, bound with rushes, and
council held over his PROSTATE body.
Some counseled dispatching him instant
| ly then and there, but this was overrul-
ed by the older heads of the tribe.
| After short consultation, four of the
stoutest Indians raised him from the
ground, and began to bear him out of
the rancheria. They took the direction
of the river, making straight for the pre-
cipice which overhangs IL at height of
five hundred feet, followed by the entire
tribe. Arrived at the edge of the bluff,
/
of the youth by the head and feet, and
swinging him backward and forward
three times, launched him out into the
stream whose toarse murmur could be
heard FIVE hundred feet below The
next instant female figure sprang for
ward from the throng of Indians that
had pressed close up to the brink of the
precipice, and with wild, despairing
shrek, leaped down after the body of
her lover.
II was Bonita. Her body was found
next morning, dashed into an unrecog-
nizable mass, upon the powders below.
The body of poor Frank Willard was
found few days later some twenty
miles down the stream, caught on snag
below where Cloverdale now is. There
were no marks of violence on il, as he
had been swung clear into the river,
which was then in food, and as the
rushes with which he had been bound
had been washed of, there was no evi-
dence that he had been mu. dered in the
way he was. 1t was thought he had
been wounded while attempting to ford
the swollen stream. 1t was early in the
forties when the incident happened.
Most OF those who took part in il are,
doubtless, by this time, either dead or
dispersed. My informant, old Santiago,
did not admit having taken any overt
part in the matter. so conld only thank
him for his narrative, and for giving a
new interest to the peculiar precipice
known as the Squaw's Rock. San Fran
cisco Argonaut.
|