The Delight Makers Part 51

"Is the story really true?" I inquired, for I saw that something interesting was coming.

"As true as if I had seen it myself. But I was not born when it happened. Cochiti was larger then, a big village, twice as big as it is to-day. But the Navajos were very powerful. They attacked us in the daytime in the fields. They killed the men who went to gather firewood, and they stole our cattle. At night they would come to the Zaashtesh and carry off the women and the girls. There lived at the time a young koitza who had recently married, and she liked her husband. One evening after dark this woman went to the corral. There the Moshome seized her, closed her mouth with their hands, dragged her from the village, tied and gagged her, and placed her on a horse; then they rode off as fast as they could, far, far away to the northwest and the hogans of their people. The young woman cried bitterly, but it availed her nothing; she had to live with one of the Navajos, had to cook for him and work his corn-patch like other women. Soon the koitza saw that it was useless to weep, so she put on a contented look in the daytime, while at night she was thinking and scheming how she might escape from the enemy. Women are sometimes wiser than we are ourselves. Is it not so, sa ukinyi?"

"Certainly."

"It was springtime when she was captured. She suffered summer to pa.s.s, worked well, and appeared satisfied. The Moshome began to trust and even to like her. It began to turn cool; the time came when the pinons are ready for gathering, and the captive thought of flight. One morning she said to a young woman of the Navajos, 'Let us go and gather pinon!' Both women went to work and prepared food for several days, then they went out into the timber far away until they came to a place where there were many pinon-trees. There they gathered nuts, and placed them on the blankets; and as noon-time came on, and it became warm, the young Navajo woman grew sleepy. So the koitza from Cochiti said, 'Sister, lay your head on my lap, I will cleanse your hair.' As the other was lying thus and the Queres woman cleansed her head, she fell asleep. Thereupon the captive took a large stone, crushed her skull with it, and killed her.

Was not that very wise?"

"Indeed," I uttered, but thought to myself that the action was not very praiseworthy from our point of view.

"Then our koitza took a knife, scalped the dead, and concealed the scalp under her skirt. It was now toward evening. All at once the woman heard a voice calling to her, 'Sister!' She was frightened, and looked about, but saw n.o.body. She lay down. Again a voice spoke close to her, 'Sister, stay here no longer, they are uneasy!' Nothing was to be seen, and the woman began to feel afraid. For the third time the same voice said, 'Do not fear, sister; it is I, the ahtzeta, which speaks to thee. Go now, for the men are saddling their horses to look for us.' The captive gathered hastily as much food as she could carry with ease; and as the sun went down the scalp spoke again, 'It is time to go, for my people are on their way hither, and it is far to Cochiti.' So she ran and ran all the night long, and always straight toward our pueblo. Toward morning she felt tired, and the scalp spoke, 'Lie down to rest, it is far yet to your people.' She slept, but soon woke again feeling fresh and bright. Then the ahtzeta said to her, 'Let us go now, for soon the Dinne will be where you took me and where I became yours.' On she ran, eating pinons as she went. At noon the scalp was heard to say, 'My men have found the place, and are searching for your tracks. You must go faster.' When the sun set the ahtzeta spoke again, 'Run, sister, they have found the trail and follow it on horseback.' Thus she went all night long, and the nearer she came to Cochiti the more the scalp urged her to quicken her speed, for the Navajos were coming nearer and nearer.

You know," asked he, "where the sand-hills are, a little this side of Cuapa?"

I a.s.sented; that whole track is nothing but sand and drift, but which particular hills he meant I could not of course imagine. Still, the Indian knows every foot of the country, and he supposed that I, having been over the trail two or three times, recollected every detail of it as well as he did himself.

"You know also that there are junipers right there."

Such was indeed the case. Not only there, but all over the country.

"Well, there, about two leagues from Cochiti, the scalp spoke, 'Sister, they are quite near; hide yourself.' The woman looked around, but she saw no other hiding-place except the junipers. You know them, they are to the left of the trail."

I nodded of course. There are a great many to the left of the trail.

"Then the scalp told her, 'Crawl into a rabbit-hole under the tree.' You know the hole, don't you?"

I said yes to this query also. Around Cochiti there are perhaps hundreds of rabbit-burrows; and it might have been one of those, although after a full century a rabbit's hole is not supposed to be apparent. The narrator was satisfied, nevertheless, for I had a.s.sented.

"It is well; but as the woman looked at that hole she was frightened and replied, 'It is too small.' 'Creep into it,' ordered the scalp. 'I cannot even get my head into it,' objected the koitza from Cochiti.

'Creep in quick, they come!' the scalp cried. The woman tried, and the opening became larger and larger. First she found room for her head, afterward for her shoulders; lastly her whole body was inside. As soon as she was within, the hole closed again and appeared as small as before. Was not that wonderful?"

I thought it was strange indeed, exceedingly wonderful. I could not refrain from asking my friend,--

"But was it really so?"

"So the old men are telling, those from many years ago. It must be true.

Therefore don't disturb me in my speech, and listen. The Navajos came on. They saw that the tracks stopped. They jumped from their horses, and the woman heard them go about searching, complaining, howling, scolding.

At last they mounted their horses again and rode off. When all was quiet the scalp spoke, 'Sister, they have gone; get out now and let us return to your people.' With this the hole opened; the woman crept out and ran and ran as fast as she could. When she reached the Canada de la Peralta, the scalp spoke for the last time, saying to her, 'Sister, now you are safe; henceforth I shall speak no more.' And so it was. On the other side of the ravine stood her own husband. He recognized her at once.

They went together to the houses, where she lived for many years."

He paused and looked at me, scanning my face to see the impression made by his tale. Then he continued,--

"You see now, sa uishe, how the scalp saved her to whom it belonged.

Therefore we take ahtzeta, for as long as the spirit is not at Shipapu it follows him who has taken the scalp, and serves and helps him. And the strength, wisdom, and knowledge of him whose scalp has been taken, hereafter belong to the man who took it; they increase his power and make the tribe more powerful."

The appearance of the Rito from above presented at first sight nothing startling. From the tall building thin films of smoke arose, but no flames were visible. The house of the Corn clan seemed inhabited, for people stood on its roof. As the returning warriors grouped themselves on the brink to look down into the valley, those below stood still, gazing at them. Then they broke out into a plaintive wail; the women tore their hair, shrieked, screamed, and wept. The men above gazed and listened in silence. Very few men were seen in the vale. The tribe of the Queres seemed divided into two parties, the women lamenting below, the men, like dark, blood-stained statues, standing high above them, posted on yellowish rocks among the shrubbery.

Kauaitshe told Tyope to rest, and he willingly complied. His figure appeared less conspicuous when he sat down. Around the two the others gathered, except the Hishtanyi, who was slowly descending the slope alone, eager to hear the story of the people's misfortunes. Kauaitshe began,--

"It was yesterday, and the sun had not yet come up." He heaved a deep sigh. "All the Koshare were in the estufa over there," he pointed at the cliffs to his right; "the makatza and our koitza were grinding corn; many also had gone to the brook to wash away sadness and grief. Most of them, mainly those of Tanyi, Huashpa, and our women, bathed higher up beyond the fields; some farther down. Shotaye was not among them; n.o.body knows what has become of her."

Tyope twitched nervously. He knew where the woman had gone.

"Hayoue," the man from Tzitz proceeded, "was the only one who carried weapons. He had gone out very early with Okoya, the youth from Tanyi who is his brother's child. They had started while it was yet night, following the tshinaya up to the top of the rocks. As soon as it became light they noticed tracks and heard sounds that told them that there were Moshome about. They went around by the south, and as it began to dawn they stood there;" he pointed to a spot on the southern mesa directly opposite the big house and facing the latter. "That saved us,"

he cried; "if Hayoue had not stood there to watch, we should all have died!"

Tyope could not help contrasting the watchfulness of Hayoue with his own supercilious negligence. Yes indeed, it was all over with him; he was good for nothing any more.

"I was in the kat.i.tyam," Kauaitshe went on, "when I heard the yells of the savages in the corn below. They had concealed themselves there over night, and as soon as the people came forth from their homes unarmed, not thinking of any danger, they rushed upon them and into the big house. I grasped uishtyak and the club, and ran for the stream. There everybody was screaming; some were running this way, others fled that way, but none could get back to the cliffs, none into the houses, for the Moshome stood between them and their homes. They fled toward the south into the kote as a mountain sheep runs from the panther. But as tyame shoots down upon a hind, so the enemies flew after them, scattering them in every direction. All this happened so quickly, brother, that I was not half way down when it was over, and a few of the Dinne rushed up to kill me. They were going to the caves to slaughter the people. I ran back and hid myself, and as they came up I shot at one of them so that he died. The Cuirana Naua killed another; the others ran away. We took their ahtzeta and kept guard over the caves, but for what?

There was n.o.body left of Tzitz hanutsh except a few old women and Ciay Tihua, the little boy. Go down we could not, for below was such a noise,--such fighting, struggling, shouting, and wailing! The Moshome tore the firebrands from the hearths, set fire to the beams, dragged the cloth and the hides into the court-yard and burned them there. Fire came out of the big house, and great was the smoke and black! In the smoke we could see how the shuatyam were dancing on the roofs, and how they threw the dead down upon the ground so that their bodies rattled and the blood spurted and spattered everywhere. Satyumishe, it was sad, very sad; but I could not help, nor could the Naua, for we were alone. Still I have one scalp," he added with simple satisfaction. "Hayoue has many, many!

How many have you brought home?"

Tyope cast his eyes to the ground.

"None," he breathed; he could not conceal his contrition and shame.

Kauaitshe made no remark. He was not malicious.

"From the great house they ran into that of Tyame hanutsh. There they killed your wife."

"And Mitsha, my daughter?" Tyope asked at last.

"Mitsha was at the brook, and fled with the others. Nacaytzusle, the fiend, was after her to catch her, but he caught her not. Hayoue told us afterward that Okoya Tihua killed the savage just as he had overtaken the girl. Okoya is strong and good; he will become a great warrior, like sa umo the maseua. That is, if he still live."

At last a ray of light seemed to penetrate the darkness that shrouded Tyope's heart. Nacaytzusle was dead! The dangerous accomplice, the only one who might have told about Tyope's attempted conspiracy with the Navajos, was forever silenced. He felt relieved also to think that Mitsha had not become a prey to the savage, and it pleased him to hear Okoya praised. If the youth had still been at the Rito he might have become a support for him.

"Where is Okoya?" he anxiously inquired.

"In the mountains or dead," was the reply. "When the women fled up to the mesa, Hayoue and Okoya ran to meet them. But the Moshome were too many, and the two became separated. Okoya killed the shuatyam, the Navajo boy. He went close to him and struck him with his club till he died. So Hayoue says. Hayoue remained behind; he kept back the Dinne and then came down through the enemy--how I do not know--and protected the kat.i.tyam, helping the Koshare. All the Moshome who entered the house of the Eagles--twelve of them--were killed inside; their scalps are with us. And when the others saw it they ran out of the big house; but Hayoue and the men followed and killed nine ere they could hide on the Kauash."

"So you have taken many ahtzeta?" one of the bystanders asked.

Kauaitshe began to count, "Eleven--two--twelve--nine; thirty-four," he concluded, adding, "without those that Okoya may have if he be alive."

An exclamation of admiration and a grunt of satisfaction sounded from the lips of those present. But they became silent and sad again at once, for they, the warriors, had only eight or nine all told.

Kauaitshe's pride and exultation could not last long. He bethought himself of the losses, and continued in a tone of sadness,--

"But we have lost many, many. Nearly one hundred of our people have gone over to Shipapu, and twice as many are now in the woods, hungry and forlorn, or the Moshome have taken them with them. Luckily, they are mostly women. Hardly more than twenty of the men can have died, for it may be that Okoya is still alive. Of these, sixteen were Koshare; and the Shkuy Chayan is no more." He cast a glance of sincere pity at Tyope.

The latter said nothing, and all the others stared in mournful silence.

The lamentations below had gone on uninterruptedly. Corpses might be seen lying on the roofs, others partly hanging down over the walls. Two men were carrying a dead body toward the caves of the Turquoise people.

In the distance a group was seen dragging another corpse up the gorge.

Below the house of Yakka hanutsh there stood a group of men, their faces turned toward the brink of the mesa.

The nashtio of the Water clan rose, and pointed at the group.

"There stand Hayoue, the Shikama Chayan, the three Yaya, the Hotshanyi, Shaykatze, and Uishtyaka; and see, the Hishtanyi Chayan is down on the Tyuonyi already, and goes up to them. Let us go now, and"--he turned to Tyope--"you, brother, tell us what you have achieved and how you all have fared. We cannot receive you as it behooves us; there is too much mourning on the Tyuonyi. The Shiuana have punished us so that we cannot be merry and glad. Therefore I have been sent to receive you, for the men are few in the vale and"--he looked around as if counting the bystanders--"of those that went out to avenge the death of our father not many have come back either."