Terrible End to a White Man's

Sweethearting.

JAMES WILSON, an American

mining prospector, has suffered

death because he loved a Mayo In-

dian girl. He died (says an Ameri-

can paper) the most horrible death

that Indian cruelty could conceive.

He was eaten alive by red ants.

The Mayos live in the State of

Sinaloa, in Mexico. They are akin

to the fierce and famous Yaquis.

They are virtually independent.

They live according to their own

laws, which are as rigid as those of

the Medes and Persians, and more

savage. Wilson went to to the moun-

tains of Sinaloa over a year ago.

Near the Mayo Indian territory,

in the far interior, he located

a silver mine. In order to live

here he had to gain the friend-

ship of the Indians, and this

he succeeded in doing. Wilson had

with him two miners, Albert Curry

and William Regan. They lived

together in a camp. They were the

only white men for hundreds and

hundreds of miles around. Wilson

was the leader of them. He was a

handsome, reckless, devil-may-care

fellow. He had lived in all the

mining regions of the west, from

the Klondyke to Mexico. He had

had adventures all over the world.

It was said that no woman could

withstand his persuasive tongue, his

entertaining stories, and cheerful

manners. There were no white

women out there to listen to and

appreciate his alluring conversation.

That was a source of great sorrow to

Wilson. A mining prospector has

plenty of spare time, and the long,

quiet evenings gave a great oppor-

tunity of spinning yarns. He did

the best thing he could in his view

of the circumstances. He made

the acquaintance of the prettiest

Indian girl in the tribe. Her name

was Karamaya. The Mayo women

are not generally attractive from a

Caucasian point of view, but this

girl came very near to being so.

She was considered the belle of the

tribe. In her dress of woven

colored grasses and her necklet of

panthers' claws she made a pictu-

resque and artistic appearance. To

the men who had not seen a white

woman's face in a year she was a

vision of loveliness. Wilson and

Karamaya spent hours together in

the afternoon and evening. He

was teaching her English, and she

was teaching him the Mayo lan-

uage. That was the version they

gave of their conversation. Wilson

had apparently fascinated the girl's

parents. Contrary to their usual

custom, they made no objection to

her acquaintance with the white

man. He may have told them he

wished to marry her. That seems

the only way to account for their

subsequent conduct and hers. The

white men believed the girl was in

love with Wilson. So did he. Per-

haps she was. One evening she

and Wilson wandered off to his

camp, two miles away. When she

came back her parents and the rest

of the tribe were waiting for her.

They questioned and threatened

her, and she told them that Wilson

had treated her cruelly. The chief

of the tribe immediately sent an

armed band of Indians to sieze

Wilson and the two white men. He

had no suspicion of the coming

trouble, for he believed the girl was

in love with him. A solemn court

was summoned to try Wilson. It

consisted of all the mature warriors

of the tribe and was presided over

by the chief. Now, the Mayos hold

that all the troubles that happen to

the Indians come from the inter-

ference of white men with their

affairs. Their laws are designed to

prevent this, and they will fight

until they are exterminated rather

than permit such interference to be

forced upon them. They prescribe

death in the most terrible form for all

men, white or Indian, who offend

against these laws. They heard the

statements of the girl and her

parents and all the evidence against

Wilson. The chief then said to

him :-" Pale-face, you have tried

to destroy the honor of the Mayo

nation. You have tried to bring

ruin and disgrace on us, as the pale

faces have done with so many

Indian nations. Yon must die by

the greatest punishment the Mayo

law inflicts. You will be eaten to

death by red ants."

When the sentence was pro-

nounced the Mayos uttered their

terrible war whoop for fully five

minutes. The girl Karamaya looked

on utterly indifferent. Had her

love turned to hate, or had she been

reduced to quiesence by threats of

torture? The other two white men

were kept bound close at hand. No

attention was paid to them. They

were utterly powerless to help

Wilson. The condemned man was

kept a prisoner for a long night in

order that his mind might dwell on

the prospect of the torture. In the

morning he was carried out of the

village two miles to a great ant hill.

All the tribe followed in a proces-

sion. The prisoner was bound upon

the ground, with his his eyes turned

upward to the broiling sun. He was

within 10ft. of the ant hill. When

Wilson had been been bound to the

ground the Indians sat down about

him to watch his agony. Within a

few minutes a thin red stream be-

gan to advance from the main en-

trance to the ant hill. It was like

an army with scouts and flankers

thrown out in front. Soon they

reached the feet of the doomed man.

Even at the first touch of the insects

he shrieked with agony. As the

advance guard got to work the main

body began to arrive at a steady pace

in ever-incresing numbers. They

covered his legs, they swarmed over

his body, they filled his mouth,

nose, and ears. They not only

devoured his flesh, but they poured

formic acid, a biting corrosive acid,

into the wounds. The process occu-

pied hours. Each insect could only

bite out a minute particle of flesh at

a time. It was hours before the

victim began to lose his strength

and mental faculties, so that the

pain might become deadened.

The Indians looked on with grim

and gloomy satisfaction, smoking

their pipes as their vengeance pro-

ceeded. The girl Karamaya looked

on, too. She showed absolute apathy

and indifference. The Mayo law

holds the person who sympathises

with the author of such a crime as

Wilson's to be as guilty as the prin-

cipal. Wilson slowly and steadily

became a raw, skinless mass from

head to foot. A hundred thousand

ants were devouring him, all work-

ing under leaders in an organised

and methodical way. At first his

shrieks were almost continuous.

Later they grew intermittent. He

swooned for a brief period, then he

raved, then he came to a full sense

of the horror. Towards the end he

only groaned occasionally. Before

sunset he was merely a shapeless

thing - without face, or ears, or eyes,

or nose. Just at sunset his spirit

passed away. He gave a last groan,

and the Indians went home con-

tented. By the next morning his

skeleton was picked clean. The

Indians gave the bleached bones to

Wilson's companions, whom they re-

leased. They had nothing to say,

and fled as rapidly as possible to the

Mexican Central railroad.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=4772589&forum_id=2#41994071)

they deserved everything they got. remember that the next time some kike tries to guilt trip you about MUH POOR DIGNIFIED SPIRITUAL NATIVE AMERICANS!

nonwhites are barbarous and you lose sight of that at your peril.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=4772589&forum_id=2#41994077)