Witch Winnie Part 25

His little son, Lovey Dimple, was seated beside him during one of Mr.

Armstrong's calls. He was allowed to visit his father, and waited upon him day by day, sometimes telling him of the pleasant times he had had at the seash.o.r.e, and at others watching him quietly. His presence seemed to do his father good; and on this visit Mr. Armstrong was able to obtain much more information from Stephen Trimble than upon any previous occasion.

"You are quite sure," Mr. Armstrong asked, "that you never saw this check, which someone has cashed at the bank, and which is indorsed with your name?"

"Never, never!" replied the wounded man.

"I see it, though," Lovey Dimple spoke up, promptly. "Jim had come down to the court to see me, and I wanted to show him the machine in the Rooshans' room, and we follered him in there. Mr. Meyer dropped a piece of paper which looked like that, and Jim picked it up. He could tell you what was written on it."

"I must have Jim as a link in our chain of testimony," Mr. Armstrong replied. "Is he at the Home of the Elder Brother?"

"No, sir; Jim used to be there, but he had the luck to be adopted. He went away just for to be a tiger for some swells, and they liked him so much they permoted him. He's Jim Roservelt now."

So this was the lad of whom Adelaide had spoken to him. Mr. Armstrong wrote to his friend Mr. Roseveldt, requesting that Jim should be sent to the city. His testimony at the trial was so clear and concise, and his entire appearance so manly, that Mr. Armstrong was greatly drawn to him.

"If my own boy had lived," he said to Mr. Roseveldt, who had come to the city with Jim, "he would have been about the age of this little fellow.

I am about to make a western trip of six or seven weeks, and would like to take him with me. Should the liking which I have taken to him grow upon acquaintance, I beg of you to relinquish him to me; I need him, for I am a stricken man, and you are a fortunate one, or I would not ask it."

Mr. Roseveldt replied that, though he was fond of Jim, he would willingly give him up to Mr. Armstrong for adoption after his return from the West, provided the boy's mother would consent to the transfer.

Singularly enough, the name of that mother was not mentioned, and Mr.

Armstrong took Jim with him to Colorado, little dreaming that the boy was his own son.

He had said that he needed Jim; and he needed him in more ways than he knew. He had grown world-soiled, as well as world-weary, and the companions.h.i.+p of a soul white and young was destined to exert upon him a purifying as well as rejuvenating influence. Before the grand mountain scenery Jim's fresh enthusiasm stimulated Mr. Armstrong's sated admiration, and the child's naive ideas of right and wrong were a rebuke to the man's sophistries. They journeyed together through the wild and beautiful canons of the Rocky Mountains, and the boy was deeply impressed by the stupendous cliffs rising on each side--walls that were sometimes two thousand feet in height, and so close together that the narrow river, which had cut its way down from the surface, sometimes filled the entire s.p.a.ce at the bottom of the gorge. But even here the ingenuity of man had surmounted the barriers of nature, and the observation-car on which they rode dashed along upon a shelf cut in the solid rock, with a sheer wall on one hand, and a dizzy precipice on the other. Such a canon was the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas; in one portion an iron bridge hangs suspended from strong supports fixed in the solid walls, and the train glides along it, swaying as in a hammock, over the brawling river.

The climax of their tour was reached in the Black Canon. The scenes here are awful, even in broad daylight, for the sombre crags tower to the height of several thousand feet. Our travelers pa.s.sed through the chasm at night. Far overhead the stars were s.h.i.+ning in the little rift of sky, which was all that they could see between the walls; and in the mysterious half-lights of the illumined portions, and the utter blackness of the shadows, the grotesque shapes of the crags took on strange forms and awful suggestions. At times it seemed as if the train was about to dash itself against a wall of solid masonry, which opened, as though thrown back by genii, as they approached. At one point, catching the moonlight, a silvery cascade swept over the rocks like a bow of crystal; and at another, a mighty monument of rosy stone, the Curricanti Needle, towered far above the cliffs, like the sky-piercing spire of some grand cathedral.

"The people who live here must be very good," Jim gasped, as they emerged from the valley of enchantment, "one is so much nearer to G.o.d out here!"

"n.o.body lives in the canon now," Mr. Armstrong replied; "Indians lived here not very long ago. They used to hold their councils on that shelf of rock where the pines grow, the last accessible spot on the Curricanti pinnacle, but the settlers in the neighborhood did not have your idea about their being such very good men, and as the canon was the best pathway through the mountains for the railroad, they were driven out."

"I am sorry for the Indians," Jim said, simply. "If I had owned that canon I wouldn't have liked to have given it up, would you?"

Mr. Armstrong evaded the question. "You will not have so much pity for them when you know them better," he replied. "They are a low lot, and if they do not know enough to improve the advantages which they possess, it is only fair that they should be appropriated by those who will make a better use of them."

Jim did not quite understand what Mr. Armstrong meant by appropriating the Indians' advantages, but he was to learn more in relation to that word before the journey was over. Returning to Denver, Mr. Armstrong took the boy with him on a tour through some of the pueblos of New Mexico. The word "pueblo" signifies town, and the Pueblo Indians are those who build houses instead of tents and wigwams, and live from generation to generation in towns and cities, instead of wandering about the plains and mountains like the other tribes. There are twenty-six of these communities in New Mexico, and some of the cities were old when the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth.

When New Mexico was ceded to the United States by Mexico, the right of the Pueblo Indians to their towns and to certain tracts of land surrounding them was confirmed by treaty, so that these Indians are better off in many ways than any others. Mr. Armstrong had a special reason for visiting the Pueblos. He had purchased several large herds of cattle, and wished to rent land of the Indians for pasturage. A man by the name of Sanchez, who traded among the Pueblos, could speak the language, and had gained the confidence of the Indians, happened to be on the train, and recognizing Mr. Armstrong as a wealthy capitalist, who had large interests in cattle, as well as in railroads, at once guessed pretty nearly the nature of his errand in the Indian country.

He introduced himself, and, learning that Mr. Armstrong intended to visit the pueblo of Taos, to witness the celebration of the Festival of San Geronimo, offered his services as interpreter and courier. These Mr.

Armstrong was very glad to accept, for he had heard of the man, and knew that he had considerable influence among the Indians. There was something repellent, however, in his insinuating, cringing manner which made one feel that here was a man who was not to be trusted. The party was increased by an army officer and a Catholic priest, who were also going to Taos to witness the festival. The pueblo lies at a distance of twenty miles from the railroad station, but an Indian was found waiting for Mr. Sanchez with a rough wagon, and that gentleman invited the others to ride with him. They crossed the Rio Grande River and drove along beside it in a northeasterly direction, through a not very interesting country. The coloring was all yellowish brown--the sandy earth, the crisp parched gra.s.s, the distant hills, even the water when taken from the turbid river, were all of a like monotonous tint. Now and then they met or pa.s.sed an Indian, wrapped in a striped blanket and mounted on a small s.h.a.ggy pony. Toward evening they came in sight of the pueblo. The first view was very picturesque. The houses of adobe, or sun-dried brick, were built in ranges one above the other, like a great stairway, the roof of the lower house serving as the dooryard for the one above. Ladders were placed against the walls, and up and down these, nearly naked Indian children scrambled like young monkeys. They parted their long elf-locks with their hands, and stared at the strangers with wild, black eyes. Mr. Sanchez conducted them to an unoccupied house, which he said would be at their service during the festival for quite a good sum. There was no hotel, and this seemed the best thing to be done.

It had evidently been suddenly cleared for the unexpected guests, and some of the utensils and furniture remained. The priest pointed out with pleasure a gaudy print of the Virgin. There were strings of red peppers drying on the outer wall, and a great olha, or decorated water-pot, within, but there was no bedding or food. The gentlemen, however, had each brought with them army blankets, and Mr. Sanchez offered to act as their commissary and skirmish for provisions. He presently returned, followed by a woman carrying a bowl of stewed beef and onions, and a boy driving a donkey, whose panniers were filled with melons. This, with some coffee, which the officer made over a spirit-lamp, and some crackers contributed by Mr. Armstrong, const.i.tuted their supper, which hunger made palatable.

After this refreshment they mounted to their roof and watched the preparations for the festivities of the next day. Mr. Sanchez pointed out the entrance to the _estufa_, or underground council-chamber, into which the young men of the tribe were disappearing for the celebration of mysterious pagan rites.

"I thought the Pueblos were Roman Catholics," Mr. Armstrong remarked.

The Catholic priest shook his head sadly. "Our converts have always remained half pagan," he said; "the early missionaries were content to engraft as much Christianity as they could on the old customs, thinking that the better faith would gradually supplant the old, but the old rites and ceremonies have remained. Still we must hesitate to say that the Fathers did wrong, since it was the only way to win the savages to the holy faith."

The priest strolled away to visit the church and to find a Mexican brother who was to celebrate Ma.s.s on the next day. The church was a ruinous building which stood apart from the others. The army officer told of the siege which it sustained during the Mexican War, and pointed to the indentations made in its walls by cannon-b.a.l.l.s.

The situation was such a strange one that Jim slept but little. All night long he could hear the dull beat of the tom-toms in the _estufa_, and as soon as the first streak of dawn illumined the sky the pueblo was awake and all excitement. Indians from neighboring towns poured in, some on foot, and others mounted on ponies or donkeys.

In the plaza stood a great pole resembling a flag-staff, but instead of a banner there dangled from the top a live sheep and a basket of bread and grain, with a garland of fruits and vegetables. The church bell was clanging for Ma.s.s, and Jim followed the others. An old Mexican priest was the celebrant, and a few young Indians in red cotton petticoats and coa.r.s.e lace overskirts waited upon him awkwardly as altar-boys. When the Host was elevated, an Indian at the door beat the tom-tom, and four musket-shots were fired. The priest then marched down the centre of the church, followed by the altar-boys, one of whom bore a hideous painting, which Mr. Sanchez a.s.sured them was painted in Spain by the great Murillo, and might be had, through him, for a trifling sum. The congregation joined in the procession and followed to the race-track, where games, races, and dances were partic.i.p.ated in by fifty young men of Taos against fifty from other pueblos. The sports were witnessed by fully two thousand spectators, who swarmed along the terraces, and formed a packed ma.s.s of men, women, children, horses, and donkeys around the race-track. There was a group of visitors standing near our travelers, who regarded the races with intense interest. It consisted of an old man dressed in white linen blouse and trousers, with a red handkerchief knotted about his gray locks, an obese and not over cleanly old lady in full Indian toggery, and a young girl in a pink calico dress, with a black shawl over her head and shoulders. They watched one of the runners with the most intense excitement, and when he came off victor in several of the contests, their enthusiasm knew no bounds.

"That old man is the Governor of the pueblo of ----," said Mr. Sanchez.

"It is his son who has just stepped out to lead the corn-dance. The daughter, little Rosaria, is pretty, is she not?" He approached her as he spoke, with easy a.s.surance, and taking her by the chin, made some remarks in the Pueblo language intended to be complimentary; but the girl twisted herself from his grasp with hot indignation; and Sanchez returned, grumbling that since she had been to the Ramona School at Santa Fe she was too much of a lady to speak to anyone. Jim was standing beside her; and sure, from her manner, that she understood English, he asked her to explain the corn-dance to him. She did so, very kindly, and the hunt-dance which followed, when the painted clowns brought out grotesque clay images, and after adoring them fired at them, and shattered them in fragments, the crowd scrambling for the pieces. The young man who had been pointed out as the Governor's son secured a piece, and brought it to the girl in triumph. "That is the ear of a wolf," she said. "It means that he will have success in the south; we, who have been taught better, do not believe these old charms any more."

The last thing on the programme was the climbing of the pole for the sheep, which was finally won by a young brave of Taos.

There was racing on ponies afterward by young Indians and Mexicans, but this was informal, and not included in the rites of the day. The young girl looked at the races enviously. "My brother ought to win there," she said, "for we had the swiftest ponies of any of the Pueblos, and ought to have them, for our pasture lands are the best, but we have sold nearly all our live-stock, and the pastures are no longer of any use to us."

Mr. Armstrong overheard this remark, and asked Rosaria if her people would be willing to rent their lands. She conferred with her father in the Pueblo language, and Mr. Sanchez immediately joined in the conversation, talking volubly to the old man, and translating to Mr.

Armstrong. "He says you are welcome to return to his pueblo with him,"

explained Mr. Sanchez, "and he will call a council of his townspeople to deliberate on your proposition."

There was more conversation, and it was decided to accept the Governor's invitation. Mr. Armstrong engaging Mr. Sanchez to go with them and help him in the transaction. This seemed to him the only thing which he could do, since he did not understand the language, and the Governor seemed to place confidence in the trader. The party set out the next morning for San ----, Mr. Armstrong and Jim in Mr. Sanchez's wagon, and the Governor and his children following on diminutive donkeys. Several days elapsed before the bargain could be made. The Indians were very suspicious of being entrapped into some fraud, and it needed all of Mr. Sanchez's eloquence to persuade them that the arrangement would be to their advantage. Mr. Armstrong had told Mr. Sanchez that he was willing to pay fifteen hundred dollars for the rental of the land for three years, and that he (Sanchez) might deduct his fee for services from this sum. "Then if I can persuade them to let you have the land for twelve hundred,"

asked Mr. Sanchez, "I may claim three hundred for my a.s.sistance in the matter?"

"That is a pretty round fee," replied Mr. Armstrong, "but it does not matter to me who has the money. The land is worth fifteen hundred dollars to me, and if you can persuade the Indians to take less, so much the better for you."

Jim was much interested in the negotiations. He sat beside Mr. Armstrong in the council-chamber, trying to make out from the expressive gestures what it was that the Indians were saying, and sometimes it seemed to him that Mr. Sanchez did not translate correctly. At such times he went out to where Rosaria stood by the open door listening, with other children.

She translated for him the treaty as Mr. Sanchez read it, and he was astonished to find that it offered the Indians only three hundred dollars as rent for their land, the wily Sanchez having reserved twelve hundred as his own share.

"But Mr. Armstrong is willing to pay your people fifteen hundred," Jim protested to Rosaria, and the girl slipped into the council-chamber just as the Governor was about to sign the paper, and s.n.a.t.c.hed it from his hand.

"Is it true," she asked of Mr. Armstrong, "that you are willing to pay more for our land? Mr. Sanchez offers us but three hundred dollars!"

Mr. Armstrong, surprised at the man's effrontery, acknowledged that he was ready to pay more, while Sanchez, furious at seeing his opportunity slipping from him, poured upon Rosaria all manner of abuse, and threatened Mr. Armstrong that unless he held to his bargain to allow him whatever margin he could make he would spoil the trade for him.

"Here's a pretty affair!" said Mr. Armstrong to Jim. "You had better have kept quiet and let the old swindler feather his nest. Now I fear that I shall not be able to make any bargain with the Indians."

"But it was not right, was it," asked Jim, "that the Indians should have so little and Mr. Sanchez so much?"

"The proportion does seem unfair," Mr. Armstrong admitted to Jim; but he added, to Sanchez, "I hold to my part of the bargain. I will give you whatever margin you can make between their demands and fifteen hundred dollars."

Sanchez attempted to regain his lost advantage, but all this time Rosaria had been talking excitedly, explaining to one after another of the Indians, now pointing to the figures in the treaty, now scornfully at Sanchez, arguing, entreating, scolding, and when the trader began his defense of her charges, laughing him to scorn. The Governor put an end to the altercation by tearing the treaty in pieces and ordering two stout Indians to lead Sanchez from the room. He then bade Rosaria tell Mr. Armstrong that fifteen hundred dollars was the very least that they were willing to take for their land.

Mr. Armstrong bowed, and replied that he would think over the matter. He expected to have an opportunity to discuss it with his agent, but when he left the council-chamber he saw his wagon on the road to Santa Fe, at a long distance from the pueblo, and was handed the label from a peach can, on the back of which was scribbled:

"That boy of yours is too smart to live; the plaguey Indians have given me an hour to leave their reservation. Manage your own concerns without the help of--

Sanchez."

The bargain was accordingly struck without the aid of a middle-man, and Mr. Armstrong was conceded the right to pasture his cattle for three years in consideration of the sum of five hundred dollars, to be paid in advance at the beginning of each season. Mr. Armstrong was much amused.

"It has turned out all right," he said to Jim, "but you must acknowledge that it was really none of your business, and I would advise you, in future, not to meddle in matters which do not concern you."

"I will try," Jim replied, much abashed. "I ought to have told you instead of Rosaria, and you would have fixed it all right," he added, cheerfully. "I ought to have known that you wouldn't have let the Indians be cheated."

Mr. Armstrong felt the reproach in the undeserved confidence. Here was a companion who was a sort of embodied conscience. It was not always profitable to have a conscience in business, and yet there was something satisfactory and refres.h.i.+ng in the way in which this affair had terminated. "They say 'honesty is the best policy,'" he said to himself; "I wonder if this little fellow would not be a Mascot to bring me good luck. I have a notion to make him my partner in some of my risky ventures; Providence seems to smile upon him and his principles; perhaps if I make my good-fortune his as well, it will smile upon me." What he said to Jim was this: "You seem fond of a wild western life, Jim, and of the Indians. Our business among the Pueblos is ended. We are going back to Colorado. I have a notion to show you what the Colorado Indians are like. They are Utes, and they do not live in houses, like the Pueblos, but rove about in a perfectly savage manner; they are not peaceful and industrious, like the Pueblos, but lazy and ugly. I do not think that they are susceptible of civilization. I would as soon think of educating a coyote as a Ute.