264 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Aug. 31, 1912 
AGUSTIN MORA, GOVERNOR OF GUERRERO DURING THE 
REVOLUTION WHICH PROF. NIVEN HELPED 
TO PUT DOWN. 
Then came the news to the camp that 500 
rebels had attacked Mochtitlan, looting the town 
and killing some of the officials there. This did 
not tend to quiet the fears of the eighty or more 
men and women at the camp—all natives, of 
course—and on the heels of this notice came 
another that the smaller band under Manuel 
Vazquez had taken Otatlan, as described above. 
At this news, knowing that the only trail to the 
coast led directly past my camp, I began the work 
of fortification. 
On the point of a hill commanding the camp 
and up which wound the trail, I ordered a trench 
dug. I found I had sixty men against Vazquez' 
band of about one hundred. Most of my force 
were armed with muzzleloading shotguns and 
muzzleloading rifles, for which they had plenty 
of ammunition, while every man carried a ma¬ 
chete, one of the long, wicked knives of the 
tropics, a primitive saber, with which fearful 
execution has been done among the natives in 
previous battles in Mexico. 
I sent the women and children of the camp 
to a spring about five miles further back in the 
mountains, posted my men in the trench, which 
I caused to be even more strongly fortified with 
a rude stone wall, and had large piles of bould¬ 
ers collected on the hillside above narrow por¬ 
tions of the trail, ready to be hurled down on 
the heads of Vazquez' men when they attacked. 
They could reach my trench only by this one 
trail, and after I had posted guards that night 
I lay down in my blanket under the brilliant 
semi-tropic' moon, confident that Mr. Vazquez 
and his rebels would, at least, meet with a warm 
reception. 
For years I was a member of the First 
Lanark Shire Artillery Volunteers, and the mili¬ 
tary training I received in Glasgow stood me 
in good stead in the wilds of Mexico in plan¬ 
ning my defense. That my guards were awake 
was proven about 2 o’clock in the morning when 
I was awakened by about thirty of my men who 
had surrounded an Indian who had come creep¬ 
ing in, bringing news of a drunken orgy, then 
being carried on by the rebels in Otatlan. The 
poor fellow was harmless and nearly frightened 
to death. He declared he was fleeing to a village 
where dwelt some of his relatives, about a day’s 
journey over the mountain, and we let him pro¬ 
ceed. 
Next morning a messenger arrived from 
Vazquez, commander of the rebels, demanding 
that I surrender such rifles as I had, there being 
five modern rifles with which I and my imme¬ 
diate servants were armed, with 1,500 cartridges. 
The letter which this messenger brought added 
that I should then present myself before Vazquez 
in Otatlan, if I wished to live more than twenty- 
four hours longer. This messenger was clad all 
in white, mounted on a white horse and carried 
a white flag tied to an enormous machete which 
he continued to brandish aloft until my mozo, 
leveling his pistol at the fellow’s head, com¬ 
manded him to lower the flag or else hold the 
machete still. 
I still have Vazquez’ letter in my possession, 
and my reply to it, of which I also have a copy, 
was as follows: 
Coronel Manuel Vazquez, 
Otatlan, Guerrero, Mexico. 
I have some rifles, but only for a defense. 
(Signed) William Niven. 
Otatlan was only three-quarters of a mile 
away, and messengers from Vazquez kept com¬ 
ing to me all day, but I persistently refused 
either to give up my arms or to meet him in 
the village. I slept that night in the trench, but 
the next day, posting some of my men as senti¬ 
nels on the highest hills in the vicinity, I took 
the balance and resumed work on the mine. At 
1 o’clock I heard the sentinels firing, and in five 
minutes the entire force, together with myself, 
was in the fortifications. 
My sentinels came down and informed me 
that they had seen Vazquez, followed by all his 
force, coming up the canon, and had not fired 
into the air, as I had directed, but straight into 
the approaching band, at which Vazquez fired 
two pistol shots into the air and all the rebels 
fled down the canon at top speed. 
This was our last visit from the rebels, and 
practically ended the revolt in Guerrero, for Vaz¬ 
quez and his band, failing to escape to the west 
coast through my fortifications, turned back to 
Tlacotepec, where they were ambushed by a 
brave priest, Father Gonzales, and 200 men, and 
practically wiped out. That night I slept again 
in the trenches, but with no fear that the rebels 
would return, as they seemed so thoroughly 
frightened by the fire of only two men. Had 
they been able to get across the mountains into 
Sonora, the probabilities are that they would 
have started the Madero revolution, which has 
just been concluded, and that one of the blood¬ 
iest wars of Mexico’s history would have been 
precipitated then instead of ten years later. 
Next day we were again surprised by an¬ 
other body of armed men riding up the canon, 
but they proved to be Rurales, members of the 
Government’s force, who had come to the 
“rescue” of the American, at the orders of the 
Governor in Chilpancingo. They were much sur¬ 
prised to find me alive and safe, and immediately 
demanded fifty dollars for the expenses of the 
trip, stating that they were without funds. I 
not only gave them the money, but killed a fat 
steer as well, and we had a barbecue which I 
shall never forget. They declared they had 
missed the rebels, but the truth was they had 
dodged them, as I learned afterward, fearing 
to meet Vazquez and his band in the narrow con¬ 
fines of the canon. 
After this we were not disturbed, the Rurales 
went their way, and we returned to our work 
on the mine, to which I devoted my time for 
some months, practically forgetting the ruins of 
dead cities which lay back in the mountains all 
around me, until they were called to my mind 
by some explorations made in a tour of large 
caves, which I shall describe in the next chapter. 
[to be continued.] 
