WHITE SEEKERS OF TREASURE
When Alvarado marched his band of adventurers into the pueblo Ua-lano
to the sound of tom-toms and flutes of welcome, an Indian woman with a
slender boy stood by the gate and watched the welcome of the
strangers.
An exceedingly reckless, rakish lot they were--this flower of the
Mexican forces who the Viceroy was only too willing should explore all
lands, and seas, so they kept themselves away from the capitol.
The women and the children shrank back as the horses clattered in.
Some laughed to cover their fear, others threw prayer meal, and their
fright made the commander notice the blanketed figure of the woman
whose eyes alone shone above the draperies held close, and who stared
so keenly into each white face as they passed.
"Who is the dame in the mask of the blanket?" he asked of his host
Chief Bigotes--the courteous barbarian who had crossed seventy leagues
of the desert to ask that his village be honored by the god-like ones
from the south.
Bigotes looked at her, did not know, but after inquiring came back and
spoke.
"It is a strange thing but it is true," said the interpreter, "she is
called the One from the Twilight Land. She went as a girl from Te-hua
to Ah-ko for study with the medicine people of one order there. One
night it was as if she go into the earth, or up in the sky. No one
ever see her any more. It was the year of the fire of the star across
the sky. Now she comes from the west and so great a medicine woman is
she that leading men are sent to guard her on the trail to the Te-hua
people--and to guard her son."
"Faith! Your strangers are a handsome pair. The boy would make a fine
page in a civilized land. He is the fairest Indian I've seen."
The boy knew that his mother and himself were objects of query, and
stood stolid, erect and disdainful,--the stranger should see that all
their clanking iron, their dominating swagger, and their trained
animals could not make him move an eyelash of wonder.
But to his mother he said:
"They have much that we will need if we ever fight them; their
clanking clothes and shields can break many arrows."
"Why do you talk of fighting?"
"I do not know why. It is all I thought of as I looked at them."
One thing interested him more than all else, and that was a man in a
grey robe who carried a book, and turned the pages in absorbed
meditation; sometimes his reading was half aloud, and Tahn-té slipped
near each time he could, for to him it looked as if the man talked to
the strange white paper.--He thought it must be some sort of high
magic, and of all he saw in the new comers, he coveted most of the
contents of those pages,--it was more wonderful than the clanging
metal of their equipment.
A tiny elf-like girl followed Tahn-té as a lost puppy would, until he
asked her name, and was told it was Yahn--that she lived in Povi-whah
by the big river and that her mother was visiting some society of
which she was a member,--that she was in the kiva and could not be
seen for four days and nights, and in the coming of the beasts and the
strangers, her caretaker had lost her, and the home where she had
stayed last night she did not know.
She knew only she was lost, and some boys had told her that the new
kind of beasts ate little girls. She did not weep or call, but she
tried to keep her little nude body out of sight behind Tahn-té if a
horse or a mule turned its head in the direction she was.
So glad she was to be protected that she told him all her woes in the
strange town. The greatest was that a dog had taken from her hand the
roasted ear of corn she had been eating, and she wished Ka-yemo was
there, he would have maybe killed the dog.
Inquiry disclosed the fact that Ka-yemo was not her brother; he lived
in Provi-whah. Her own name was Yahn. No:--it was not a Te-hua name.
It was Apache, for her mother was Apache--and the Te-hua men had
caught her when they were hunting, and always her mother had told Yahn
to stay close to the houses, for hunting enemies might bear her away
into slavery--and Yahn was not certain but these men on the beasts
might be hunters.
She was very tiny, and she spoke imperfectly, but shyness was not a
part of her small personality, and she insisted on making herself
understood. To Tahn-té she seemed like a boy rather than a girl, and
he called her Pa-ah-dé which is the Te-hna word for "brother"--and
later he gave her to his mother to keep her out of the way of the
horses and the strange men.
And thus it was that Tahn-té, and Apache Yahn saw together the strange
visitors from the south, and Yahn, though but a baby, thought they
might be hunters whom it would be as well to hide from, and Tahn-té
thought much of the coats of mail, and how lances could be made to
pierce the joints.
He heard the name of the man with the black robe and the magic thing
of white leaves from which he talked--or which talked to him!--it was
"Padre"--there was also another name and it was "Luis." It meant the
same as "Father Ho-tiwa" or "Brother Tahn-té."
To the man from whom the rakish Spanish soldiers bent the knee and
removed the covering from the head, Tahn-té felt no antagonism as he
did for the men who carried the arquebus and swords. The man who is
called "Father" or the woman who is called "Mother" with the Indian
people, is a person to whom respect is due, and through Bigote he had
heard--by keeping quiet as a desert snake against a wall--that the man
of the grey robe who was called "Father" was the great medicine-man of
the white tribe. Through him the god of the white man spoke. In the
leaves of the white book were recorded this god's laws, and even these
white men who were half gods, and had conquered worlds beyond the big
water of the South, and of the East, bent their knees when the man of
the robe spoke of the sacred things.
Of these things he spoke to his mother, and was amazed to learn that
she knew of the white man's gods, and the white men's goddess. Never
had she talked to him of this, and she did not talk to him much now.
She only told him that all she knew would belong to him when the time
came, and that the time seemed coming fast--but it was not yet. When
he was older he could know.
When he talked to her of the many white pages in which the white god
had written, she told him that much wisdom--and strong magic must be
there. The white men had no doubt stolen for their earth-born god the
birth story of Po-se-yemo, the god of her own people. But his magic
had been great in that land across the seas and that people had
written words of the earth-born god as had certain tribes of Mexico,
and all that the god said and did had been written plainly as had been
written the records of Quetzel-coatle of the South, and it was not
good that their own tribe had not the written records of their gods.
"It may be that the time has come to make such records," said Tahn-té,
"our people should not be behind the other people."
"We have no written words,"--said his mother;--"our head men who
govern have only the deerskin writings of Ki-pah the wise, who lived
long ago and did much for the people of Kah-po and Oj-ke, and the
people of the river."
"Of him I have not heard," said Tahn-té--"was he a god?"
"No--no god, but he lived and worked as a god. He came to this land
before the day of my grandfathers. When the time is come, the men of
my father's people will tell you the work he did in our valley, and
what he said. So will tell you the old men of Provi-whah and the old
men of Kah-po. He came to a land, not to one people, and on the
deerskin he painted things never seen but by the wise men who know how
to read it."
The boy stared moodily into the sun swept court of Ua-lano. There were
so many things in the world of which no one had ever told him!
"If I am very good, and say very many prayers, and wait on the gods
very carefully, will the wise men of the medicine orders tell me of
the deerskin records some day?" he demanded.
"Some day--it may be so," she conceded.
"Good! I will think of that each day as the sun comes up!" he stated.
"And the magic of the white man's writings I will learn for myself. It
is a thing which is not kept for sacred places, and no prayers are
needed for that!"
The woman of mystery regarded him strangely, yet spoke no word. The
magic of the white conquerors was wonderful magic to her, yet she
could not ask her son why he only spoke of them as ever beyond some
wall which they must not cross,--and of their knowledge as strong
knowledge, yet not sacred knowledge.
Between the woman and her son there was often a wall of silence. Even
her love could not cross it. There were always spoken or unspoken
questions which she left without answers. He was only learning this in
the wonderful journey of the desert lands, and he asked fewer
questions,--but looked at her more. And:--she knew that also!
The man of the talking white leaves, and the grey gown set in the
center of the court a white cross, and all the soldiers knelt, and in
front of the dwellings the brown people knelt also--which the
Christians deemed a special dispensation that so many heathen had been
brought so quickly to their knees at the mere sight of the holy
symbol. And in the morning Father Luis decided he would baptize all of
them, and have a high mass for the salvation of their souls. The boy
who watched the book so closely, was, he felt sure, a convert at mere
sight of the white leaves, and the heathen mother would no doubt
clamor also for sanctification.
But in the early dusk of the morning the boy and his mother were on
the trail for the home valley of the river P[=o]-s[=o]n-gé of which he
had dreamed. With them were people of Kah-po, and people of Provi-whah
and the Apache woman and her child Yahn. Yahn made some one carry her
most of the hard trails, and talked much, and asked many things of the
little growing trees in the old urn of ancient Tusayan.
And when they came in sight of the sacred mesa, Tuyo, a runner was
sent ahead to tell the governor and the head men of the strange new
people of the clanking iron at Ua-lano, and the wonderful and belated
home-coming of the lost woman of many years' mystery.
Because of this they were met at the edge of the mesa by many, and the
Woman of the Twilight knelt and touched the feet of the governor and
asked that the gate of the valley be open to her and to her son. And
Tahn-té knelt also and offered the growing things.
"These are sacred things of which the Ruler must speak," said the
governor. "I am but for one short summer and winter, but the Ruler is
for always. Of the new things to bear fruit we still speak in
council,--also of the new people trading a new white god for blue
stones, and painted robes."
But Tahn-té knew that a welcome was theirs, for the governor would not
have come outside the walls except it had been so, and the old man
watched keenly the delight of the boy as the river of that land came
clear before him spread at the foot of the wide table land, and the
great plain below. Trees grew there, and between them the running
water shone in the sun. The Black Mesa Tuyo, Mesa of the Hearts,
arose from the water edge,--a great dark monument of mystic rites,
and wondrous records of the time when it had been a breathing place
for the Powers in the heart of the earth. The rocks were burned so red
it always seemed that the fire was still under them. And south was the
God-Maid mesa:--its outline as the face of a maid upturned to the
sky.
Beyond the river stretched the yellow corn fields--the higher land
like a rugged red skeleton from which the soil had been washed,--and
beyond that was the great uplift of the pine-clad mountains where the
springs never failed, and the deer were many.
Wild fowl fluttered and dove in the waters of the river, grey pigeons
flew in little groups from the trail; as they walked, two men in
canoes caught fish where a little stream joined the big water of
P[=o]-s[=o]n-gé--in every direction the boy was conscious of a richer,
fuller life than any he had yet seen. His mother was right--her people
were a strong people! and their villages were many in the valleys of
the river.
In Povi-whah the clan of the Arrow Stone people welcomed the Twilight
Woman as their own, and the men and women who had journeyed with her
from Ua-lano looked glad to have journeyed with her,--they had to
answer many questions.
Tahn-té also had much practise in the Te-hua words when he tried to
tell them what the peach was like, and what the pear was like, and the
youth were skeptical as to peaches big as six plums.
A boy larger than he flipped with a willow wand at the urn with the
little trees, and told him that in Provi-whah a boy was whipped if he
lied too often!
"How many times may a boy lie and not be whipped?" asked Tahn-té, and
the other boys laughed, and one stripling gave him a fillet of otter
skin in approval, and said his name was Po-tzah, and that their clan
was the same.
But the tiny Yahn who looked from face to face, and saw the anger in
the face of the boy of the willow wand, caught the switch and brought
it down with all the force of her two chubby arms on the nurslings
brought from Hopi land.
Tahn-té caught her and lifted her beyond reach of the urn.
"I should have let the strange beasts of the iron men eat you," he
said. "You shall go hungry for peaches if you kill the trees!"
The others laughed as she wriggled clear--and lisped threats even
while keeping out of range of his strong hands.
"Always she is a little cat of the hills to fight for Ka-yemo," said
Po-tzah. "Little Ka-yemo will some day grow enough to fight alone!"
Ka-yemo scowled at them, and muttered things, and sauntered away. He
was the largest of all of them, but one boy does not fight six!
Yahn was in such a silent rage that she twitched and bent the willow
until it was no longer any thing but a limp wreck:--she would break
something!
"That is the Apache!" said Po-tzah. "I think that baby does not forget
to fight even when she sleeps."
The little animal flung an epithet at him and ran after the sulky
Ka-yemo:--evidently her hero and idol.
The mother of Tahn-té was called in council for things of which
Tahn-té was not to know. But he learned that she was of the society of
the Rulers:--that from which the spiritual head was selected when the
Po-Ahtun-ho or Ruler no longer walked on the earth.
After the council sacred meal was sprinkled on the trees in the urn,
and the priests of the order of Po-Ahtun divided them between the
Winter people, and the Summer people, that it be proven which the care
of the new fruit would belong to for prayers, and each planted them by
their several signs in the sky. His mother spoke to him when alone and
told him he was now to do a boy's work in the village, and his
training must begin for the ceremonies of high orders into which the
council wished him to enter.
"To serve our people?"
"Yes:--it will be so--to serve our people."
"Since it is to be like that, may I also speak?"--he asked. "May I not
speak to the men who decide? I have thought of this each day since
Ua-lano. At some time I must speak:--is not this the time?"
"It may be the time," she assented. "We will go to the old men of the
orders. It may be they will listen."
All night they listened, and all night they talked, and the old men
looked at the mother strangely that the son should speak the words of
a man in council.
"Thanks that you let me speak," he said. "Thanks! It is true what you
hear of the white gold-hunter's magic. It is strong. It is good that
we find out how it is strong. My mother tells you how the Snake
priests of Tusayan make me of their order, so that I can know that
magic for the rain ceremony. In my hands also was given the Flute of
Prayer to the desert gods, and to know Hopi prayers does not hurt me
for a Te-hua:--it is Te-hua prayers my mother teaches me always! So it
will not hurt me to learn the magic of the men of iron. They are
strong and they will be hard to fight. The grey robe man is the man
who teaches of their gods. He teaches it from magic white leaves in
his hand, on the leaves there are words--other iron men can talk from
them, but only the grey robe is the priest and teaches. He would teach
me if I would serve him--then I could have their magic with our own."
"It may be evil magic," said one.
"It tames the strange beasts as the Hopi prayers tame the snakes,"
replied the boy--"and every day the beasts do work for these people."
The old men nodded assent--it certainly must be strong magic to do
that!
But a man of the Tain-tsain clan arose.
"This woman has been gone many moons on a strange trail," he said.
"The son she brings back to her clan speaks not as a youth speaks. It
is as if he has been very old and grows young again. It may be
magic--and again it may be that he is half lost in his mind and dreams
the dreams of a man. It is a new thing that men listen to a child in
council."
Then K[=a]-ye-fah the aged Po-Ahtun-ho made a sign for silence, and
sat with closed eyes, and it was very quiet in the council until he
spoke.
"You have brought a big thought out of the world of the Spirit People,
Phen-tza," he said. "It has been given to you to say, and that is
well! It has been given to me to see--and I see with prayer. When the
God-thought is sent to earth people is it not true that the child of
dreams, or the man of dreams, is the first to hear or to feel that
thought? Was not the earth-born god, Po-se-yemo, called a youth that
was foolish? Was he not laughed at by the clans until he wept? Was he
not made ashamed until out of his pain there grew a wisdom greater
than earth-wisdom? Let us think of these things, and let us hear the
words of the child who dreams."
"It is well," said another, "even when half the mind is gone, it may
be gone only a little while on the twilight trail to the Great
Mystery."
"The life music comes in many ways," said K[=a]-ye-fah, the Ruler.
"Many reeds grow under the summer sun, but not in all of them do we
hear the call of the spirit people when the wild reed is fashioned for
the flute. The gods themselves grow the flutes of High Mystery. This
youth is only a reed by the river to-day--yet through such reed the
gods may send speech for our ears."
"We will listen," said the others. "Let us hear more of the men whose
blankets are made of the hard substance." And at this Tahn-té again
took courage and spoke.
"These iron men say they are only on a hunting trail--they say they
will not trouble the people--that is what their men say who speak for
them! But if one boy, or one man, could talk as they talk, you men of
Povi-whah would know better if they speak straight. My mother has
found the trail to her people on the right day, and has brought me
here. I want to be the boy who learns that talk of the hunters of the
blue stones and sacred sun metal of the earth, and then I can come
back and tell it to the wise men of my mother's people."
"But you may not come back."
"I will ask all the Powers that I will come back. My mother will pray
also, and her prayers are strong."
"I will pray also," said S[=aa]-hanh-que-ah.
The men smoked, and the boy watched them and waited until K[=a]-ye-fah
spoke.
"That which the son of this wise woman says is to be well thought
of;--it may be precious to us in days not yet born of the sun. You who
listen know that we are living now in a day that was told of by Ki-pah
in the years of our Lost Others, and Ki-pah spoke as the god
Po-se-yemo spoke:--he was given great magic to see the years ahead of
the years he lived."
"It is true," assented the governor--"It was when the people yet lived
in the caves, and the water went into the sands in that highland--that
is when he came to our Lost Others--Ki-pah--the great wisdom. He came
from the south, and taught them to come down from the caves and build
houses by the great river, and to turn the water to the fields here.
All things worked with him--and Kah-po--and Oj-ke and P[=o]-ho-gé were
built and stand to this day where he said they must be built. He knew
all speech, and could tell magic things from a bowl of clear water. It
was in the water he saw men who were white, and who would cover the
land if we were not strong. These men are the men he saw in the water.
I think it is so, and that this is the time to be strong."