Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1891-05-01
A Hero of New Mexico.
BY CHARLES F. LUMNIs.

BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS.
When look back over the strange
career of my brave old Spanish friend,
Colonel Manuel Chaves, whose weary
remnant of a body was laid to Test two
wears ago under the shadow of the noblest
mountain in Western New Mexico, the
exploits of many heroes, who were
handler to the frame maker, seem triae
tame. Known and loved here, yet his
name seldom reached to the great outside
world of newspapers and historians, and
to-day he fills the grave OF an almost un-
recorded hero. Yet suppose there was
never more remarkable life. For over
fifty years he was almost constantly
warning against the Apaches, Comanches,
Navaios and Utes. Over 200 of his
relatives were killed by Indians. He
participated in more than 100 fights and
carried a scar for nearly every one of
them. His body was such a network of
chastly cicatrices that scarcely could you
lay your hand upon him anywhere with
out touching a scar. For the last fifteen
years of his life he suffered untold agonies
the result Of his awful wounds and the
years of exposure and hardship, but he
met this more merciless foe as calmly as
he had met the Apache, and when, at
seventy-four, the Pickering soul went
out, it was calmly as little child's.
Life on the New Mexican frontier in
his day was something which VIC can ill
realize. There were no railroads then to
make travel easy for even the timid and
weak; nor mails to bring far friend
near; nor telegraphs to fash warning CT
hope. The lonely New Mexicans, shut
off from contact, and almost from the
East by a vast and fearful wilderness,
were surrounded by savage nature and
still more savage man. II was one Of the
bitterest lands on the earth, a land OF
vast distances and scant product, of ia
finite thirst and little wnerewith to
quench it, land of hardship eternal and
of daily danger, where boys were SOL
diers and mothers had TO fight for their
babes. 1t was almost as If there had
been no other world beyond those awful
plains. Whatever was consumed was
made at home, and found no other mar
ket. There were not even firearms for
defence against the relentless savages,
save scant supply of the clumsy old
Spanish escopetas, (fintlock muskets)
scarcely better weapons than the bows
and arrows whose use the settlers learned
from their foes. Manuel was in his
youth a wonderfully expert archer, and
won countless ponies and blankets from
the Indians themselves in contests during
the short intervals of peace. Later be
became the best rife shot New Mexico
has ever produced.
The little town of Cebolleta, where
Manuel passed his boyhood, was never at
peace in the first half century of its ex-
istence. 1t was out and alcne from the
other Spanish settlements, and in the
very heart of the Navajo country; and it
was fearful sufferer at the hands of the
Indians.
1t was from Cebolleta that young Man
uel started, when he was eighteen years
old, on his first expedition-though he
had already seen enough of war at home,
and was accounted among the bravest of
the brave. With his eldest brother,
Jose, and fourteen other young men, he
started for the Canyon de Chusco, $50
miles to the westward, in the stronghold
of the Indians, on trading expedition.
What commentary on the times in which
they lived-this seeking market among
savages from whom murderous assaults
the traders were in constant peril even
while at homel They were attacked at
night in the Canyon de Chusco, and all
we're killed save Manuel-who was left
for dead with seven arrows in his body,
and his Indian servant, Pahe, who was
also fearfully wounded. Alone and on
foot they started on that fearful journey
homeward. Pahe died of his wounds in
two days, and Manuel dragged himself
alone the rest of the way, hiding by day
from the ssvages, crawling on by night,
followed by sneakiDg coyotes that never
left his bloody trail; tortured with thirst
and pain. with no food save the cactus
fruit, until at last faithful servant
found him fainting on the last ridge of