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Wild Women of the West

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WHETHER SHE WAS addressed as Madame or Ma’am, Señorita or Squaw, a woman needed guts to live out West. The ‘weaker sex’ encountered savage, brutal and obnoxious obstacles (and these were just the men!), not to mention mean ol’ Mother Nature and a plague or two. Or three. In spite of these barriers, or maybe because of them, the American frontier attracted legions of nonconforming women–mavericks, loners, eccentrics and adventurers. And through it all they kept their sense of humor: ‘I’ve got 350 head of cattle and one son,’ said a widowed ranchwoman. ‘Don’t know which was harder to raise.’

In the case of the ‘boat people’ (immigrants from Europe) who ventured out West, the women were typically cut off from family, friends, their native culture and the ‘protective strictures’ of Eastern society. Some were crushed by the experience, others survived and more than a few thrived. Of course, many of the so-called wild women were already in the Wild West and lived on the plazas and in the wigwams, hogans and teepees up and down the canyons and across the Great Plains. Among both the natives and newcomers were plenty of feisty women who weren’t afraid to mix it up with anyone, man or beast. As a modern leader put it, ‘No country, no culture, no people will ever rise above the standards of its women.’

Never Underestimate an Apache’s Love of Family

From Sonora to Sonoma, from the Badlands of the Dakotas to the California Baja, the courage and determination of American Indian women was astounding. Day in and day out they faced death and deprivation from an unforgiving environment and a multitude of predatory enemies. Take the experience of an Apache tribeswoman named Dilchthe. Among her Warm Springs clan, she was not a storied woman warrior. In fact, she was a middle-aged grandmother when she was captured by Sonoran mercenaries at Esqueda, Mexico (south of present-day Douglas, Ariz.), in the mid-1860s. The Apache men in her party were quickly executed. Dilchthe and several other women were driven southwest to the Gulf of California. There, the captives were sold into slavery and shipped across the gulf to a penal colony on the Baja Peninsula.

Many of the Apache captives died in the camp, but Dilchthe hung on tenaciously. Not long after their arrival, she and several others were sold again and began working on a nearby hacienda. In spite of her age, Dilchthe was a good worker and soon earned the trust of her owners. They treated her fairly and gave her additional responsibilities, but she had other plans. She hid food and planned a break for freedom. Dilchthe was determined to somehow, some way, make it back to her family.

The night Dilchthe sprang her plan she freed several other women with her. Led by Dilchthe and traveling only at night, the escapees made their way on foot to the gulf and began to follow the coastline north. Dilchthe successfully evaded the mounted search parties sent out to track them down. (Imagine the ribbing these vaqueros must have taken when they returned empty-handed and admitted they could not track down a pack of fleeing women, led by a grandmother! But this was not just any ol’ fleeing grandmother, this was a fleet-footed Apache grandmother!)

Although the women conserved their supplies as best they could, eventually their provisions ran out. Sleeping by day and traveling by night, they pressed on. Eating insects and a variety of desert plants, they kept trudging north for nearly 300 miles. Nearing the mouth of the gulf, they approached their biggest obstacle–the mighty Colorado River. How could they safely cross it when none of them could swim? Dilchthe stubbornly insisted they would find a way. She sought out and befriended a kindly old Mexican who told them where they could safely ford the wide river. Once again the women pushed northward along the west bank of the Colorado until they reached the confluence of the Gila River and the Colorado (later the site of the Yuma Territorial Prison). Finding the exact spot the old Mexican had described to her, Dilchthe carefully waded into the cold current. Just when it looked as if she was about to be swept away, Dilchthe stepped up onto a sandbar and quickly crossed to the other side. Her charges then followed her across. They all safely made their way through the thick underbrush, eastward along the banks of the Gila and into Arizona Territory. They were about halfway home.

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