Queho – Renegade Indian Outlaw or Scapegoat?

The saga of Queho, a Native American figure from the early 20th century, remains shrouded in ambiguity. Was he a hardened criminal, a renegade Indian outlaw, deserving of the notoriety he garnered? Or was he a convenient scapegoat, blamed for the misdeeds and mysteries that plagued the harsh landscapes of Southern Nevada? The question of Queho – renegade Indian outlaw or scapegoat persists, fueling debate and perpetuating the legend of a man caught between two worlds.

Born around 1880 near Nelson, Nevada, on Cottonwood Island, Queho’s very origins were steeped in misfortune. His Cocopah mother died shortly after his birth, leaving him an orphan. The identity of his father remains a mystery, giving rise to various speculations. Some believed he was the son of a Paiute brave from a neighboring tribe, while others whispered of a white soldier stationed at Fort Mohave, or even a Mexican miner passing through. Regardless of the truth, his mixed heritage marked him as an outsider. Compounding his misfortune, Queho was born with a clubfoot, a physical difference that further ostracized him from the local tribes. This physical anomaly became a defining characteristic, a constant reminder of his perceived imperfection in the eyes of his community.

Growing up on a reservation in Las Vegas, Queho’s early life was one of hard labor. He worked as a ranch hand and a wood gatherer, toiling in the unforgiving conditions of the nearby mining camps. Even as a young man, he was known for his sullen disposition, his unpredictable moods, and his quick temper. These traits, coupled with his marginalized status, seemingly set him on a collision course with the law.

The first whispers of Queho’s involvement in criminal activity surfaced in 1897, with unconfirmed rumors linking him to the death of another Native American. However, it wasn’t until November 1910 that his alleged exploits began to appear in newspaper accounts. The initial report painted him as the prime suspect in the slaying of Harry Bismark, another Native American, during a drunken brawl on the Las Vegas reservation. Fleeing the scene, Queho allegedly compounded his crimes by murdering two Paiute Indians and stealing their horses in a desperate bid to escape. Thus began the documented chapter of the Queho – renegade Indian outlaw or scapegoat narrative.

His flight from justice took him through Las Vegas, where he stopped for supplies. There, he encountered a shopkeeper named Hy Von. A confrontation ensued, resulting in Queho brutally assaulting Von with a pick handle, breaking both of the man’s arms and fracturing his skull. This act of violence further cemented his image as a dangerous criminal.

Continuing south, Queho sought refuge in the rugged terrain of Eldorado Canyon. But his presence did not go unnoticed. Word soon reached the authorities in Searchlight that a Native American matching Queho’s description had beaten a woodcutter named J.M. Woodworth to death. The motive, according to reports, was a dispute over payment for Woodworth’s timber-cutting services. The story of Queho – renegade Indian outlaw or scapegoat was gaining momentum, each alleged crime adding another layer to his fearsome reputation.

Deputy Sheriff Howe assembled a posse to track down the fugitive. Their investigation began at the scene of Woodworth’s murder, where they discovered a distinctive footprint, undeniably left by Queho’s clubfoot. The posse followed the trail to Eldorado Canyon, leading them to the Gold Bug mine. There, they found the lifeless body of L.W. "Doc" Gilbert, the mine’s watchman, who had been shot in the back. Adding insult to injury, Gilbert’s special deputy badge, No. 896, was missing.

The pursuit continued towards the Colorado River, but the posse eventually lost Queho’s trail. Despite searching a vast area spanning over 200 miles, from Crescent to Nipton, they found only fleeting traces of his presence. The posse had initially believed that Queho’s clubfoot would make him easy to track, but they were sorely mistaken. Frustrated and exhausted, the lawmen eventually abandoned the chase.

The search was then taken over by Nevada State Police Sergeant Newgard, who enlisted the help of several Native American trackers and two experienced hunters. Despite their combined expertise, they too were ultimately unsuccessful in capturing Queho. They found signs of his passage, but were eventually forced to abandon the search due to dwindling supplies. In February 1911, the disheartened lawmen returned to Las Vegas empty-handed.

Over the following years, sightings of Queho continued, fueling the growth of his legend. Miners and settlers along the Colorado River recounted tales of missing cattle, unexplained thefts, and mysterious murders, all attributed to the elusive Native American. This constant attribution of unsolved crimes became a source of embarrassment for the local law enforcement, further solidifying his image as a renegade Indian outlaw.

In 1913, local newspapers attributed the death of a 100-year-old blind Native American known as Canyon Charlie to Queho. The alleged motive was the theft of Charlie’s meager provisions. However, some disputed this accusation, arguing that Charlie was a friend and confidant of the fugitive.

A few months later, two miners working claims at Jenny Springs were found shot in the back, their provisions stolen. These murders, too, were blamed on Queho. The death of a Native American woman shortly thereafter was also attributed to the renegade.

The hysteria surrounding Queho continued to escalate, leading to rewards of up to $2,000 being offered for his capture, "Dead or Alive." The Searchlight Bulletin fueled the flames with the inflammatory statement, "A good Indian is a dead Indian."

Although the intense furor eventually subsided, the fear of Queho lingered in the minds of area settlers. He became a legendary figure, a bogeyman used to scare children into behaving.

In 1919, the murderous tales resurfaced when two prospectors named William Hancock and Eather Taylor were found dead upstream from Eldorado Canyon. Both had been shot in the back, and Taylor’s head had been smashed in with an ax handle. With his supplies missing and Queho’s footprints allegedly found at the scene, he was immediately considered the prime suspect.

About a week later, on January 21, 1919, Maude Douglas, the wife of an Eldorado Canyon miner, was shot and killed in her cabin. While a four-year-old boy claimed that Maude’s husband was responsible for the murder, his testimony was dismissed, and the blame was immediately placed on Queho.

The reward for Queho’s capture was increased to $3,000, and Southern Nevada Sheriff Sam Gay ordered Deputy Frank Wait to assemble a posse and hire the best trackers to capture or kill Queho. The posse tracked the outlaw north to Las Vegas Wash, but lost his trail in the Muddy Mountains. Despite further searches and the discovery of the skeletons of two miners who had disappeared years before, Queho remained elusive.

Sightings of Queho continued over the next several years, prompting Undersheriff Frank Wait to periodically resume his search. However, with no further murders committed, interest in the fugitive eventually waned.

The last reported sighting of Queho occurred in February 1930, when a Las Vegas policeman spotted him walking down Fremont Street. The officer summoned reinforcements, but by the time they arrived, Queho had vanished once again.

The legend of Queho seemed destined to fade into obscurity. But then, on February 18, 1940, three prospectors named Charles Kenyon and brothers Art and Schroder discovered the mummified remains of a Native American in a cave high in Black Canyon. The body was found alongside a Winchester 30/30 rifle, clothing, cooking utensils, tools, and a special deputy badge, No. 896.

Frank Wait, then Chief of Police for Las Vegas and a member of the original posse in 1910, rushed to the scene and positively identified the remains as belonging to Queho. The Las Vegas Review-Journal proclaimed, "Body of Indian Found!"

Queho’s remains were taken to Palm Funeral Home in Las Vegas. A legal battle ensued over the reward money and possession of the body. After years of haggling, the funeral home was granted all rights to the remains.

Frank Wait ultimately paid the bill and gave the remains and artifacts to the Las Vegas Elks Club, which put them on display at Helldorado Village in Las Vegas. The remains remained on public display until the early 1950s, and even rode in one of the Helldorado parades.

After passing through several private hands, Queho’s remains eventually ended up at the Museum of Natural History at the University of Nevada. In 1975, a retired Las Vegas attorney named Roland H. Wiley secured the remains and finally laid Queho to rest in a small ceremony on his Pahrump Valley ranch. Frank Wait, present at the burial, expressed his relief that his old adversary had finally been given a proper burial.

The story of Queho raises profound questions about justice, prejudice, and the creation of legends. Was he a cold-blooded killer, as many believed? Or was he a victim of circumstance, a scapegoat blamed for crimes he did not commit? The debate surrounding Queho – renegade Indian outlaw or scapegoat continues, ensuring that the legend of this enigmatic figure will endure.