Bigger than all New England is the Mexican state of Sonora. Biggest news of the week in Sonora was a ferocious scheme, calmly announced by the great landed proprietor Francisco Fimbres to put to death a whole tribe of Apache Indians, braves, squaws and papooses. Local papers praised Ferocious Fimbres. He claimed to have every assurance that the Mexican Government would not try to stop his private massacre.
Mounted gunmen hired by Ferocious Fimbres recently located the Apaches—a small tribe said to number only 25—on an almost inaccessible fortified plateau, high in the Sierra Madre Mountains. “This time they cannot escape!” Fimbres exulted last week. “Blood of God’s Mother, I have waited three years ! It may take till spring to starve them out, but we shall kill all who are up there except one little boy—my son.”
Three years ago, jauntily riding home from a successful business trip, Señor Fimbres found his hacienda ransacked, his wife lying horribly mutilated on her bed. “Apaches . . . Apaches . . .” she whispered before she died. “They took our son. Swear to get him back! Avenge me….”
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