A RACE WITH A MULE
When Stephens arrived at the edge of the terrace on which the
plough-lands lay, he looked down on the green expanse of meadow through
which the river ran, and feeding in it half a mile below he saw some
stock that he knew must be his. "There they are," said he to himself. "I
reckon I'll take Jinks and go down to San Remo and get my mail, and see
if those Winchester cartridges that I sent for from Santa Fé came last
night."
He clambered down the abrupt bank of red clay to the meadow, and
followed down the line of the stream till he came to where his stock
were eagerly cropping the fresh green grass.
"Now how am I going to catch him?" said he to himself. "Let's see where
Felipe and the lariats are"; and looking round, he presently perceived
some clothes on the river bank, and going to them found Felipe, stripped
to his waist-cloth, splashing about in the middle of a deep pool.
"Hullo, Felipe!" cried he playfully. "Trying to drown yourself there?
You must go to the Rio Grande for that--there isn't water enough in the
Santiago River."
Felipe heard him indistinctly, and came towards him, swimming in Indian
style with an amazingly vigorous overhand stroke. Stephens picked up one
of the lariats that were lying loose on the ground by the clothes, and
swinging the noose round his head, jestingly tried to lasso the lad.
Missing him, he turned it off with, "I don't want you yet. I want the
big mule; I'm going to catch him and go down to San Remo"; and suiting
the action to the word, he coiled the lariat as he spoke, and turned and
started for the beasts.
Felipe came out and stood on the bank to watch him. "What a good humour
he's in now," thought the boy. "I suppose he was lucky with the rock.
Now is my time to ask him for the mare."
Stephens, holding the coil of rope behind him to conceal his intention
from the mule he desired to catch, cautiously approached him. Jinks, the
mule, however, was not to be deceived for a moment, and as his master
came near, turned his heels to him and scuttled off. Horses and mules
where they have frequently to wear hobbles become surprisingly active in
them. They bound along for a short distance, in an up-and-down
rocking-horse gallop, so fast that even a man on horseback has to make
his mount put his best foot forward to get up to them. Stephens found
himself outpaced, and gave it up, seeing that it was impossible for him
to capture the truant single-handed.
Felipe flew to his side in a moment. "Let me try to catch him,
Sooshiuamo," cried he, eagerly. "Let me!" and taking the lariat from the
not unwilling hands of the American, he started off, coiling it rapidly
as he ran. Before bathing he had undone his pigtail, and his long,
glossy black hair hung in thick, wavy masses down to his waist. Among
the Indians, the women cut their hair short--if it remained uncut the
care of it would take too long, and would keep them from their
household duties; but the men, having more leisure, allow theirs to
grow, and are very proud of its luxuriance and beauty. As Felipe ran,
his streaming locks floated out behind him on the air like the mane of a
wild horse, and gave to his figure a wonderfully picturesque effect; his
wet skin shone in the sun the colour of red bronze.
The Pueblo Indians are fine runners; they have inherited fleetness of
foot and endurance from their forefathers, and keep up the standard by
games and races among themselves. Felipe, young though he was, had no
superior in swiftness in the village. He darted like a young stag across
the meadow after the fugitive mule, and chased him at full speed down to
the river brink, and over the dry shingle banks of its very bed. The
pebbles rattled and flew back in showers from the hoof-prints of the
mule. Round they wheeled, back into the meadow again; and here the
Indian, putting on an astonishing burst of speed, fairly ran the
quadruped down, lassoed him, and brought him to his master.
"Here he is, señor," said he modestly, handing Stephens the rope.
"Well done, Felipe," said Stephens. "You did that well. You do run like
an antelope." He felt quite a glow of admiration for the athletic youth
who stood panting before him, resting his hand on the mule's back.
"Now's my time," thought Felipe, "what luck!--oh, Don Estevan," he
began, and then stopped with downcast eyes.
"Well, what is it?" said Stephens kindly.
"Oh, Don Estevan, if you would lend me your mare!" The murder was out,
and Felipe looked up at his employer beseechingly. "I would take such
care of her!" he continued; "I would indeed."
"Lend her for what?" said Stephens, a little taken aback. "What do you
want with her?"
"I want her to go to Ensenada to-night," said the boy.
"Oh, but Felipe, I'm going to the sierra to-morrow to hunt, you know. It
isn't possible. But," he continued, touched a little by the boy's
evident distress, "what do you want to do there? Why don't you get your
father's horse?"
"He's at the herd. My father doesn't let me," said Felipe despondently.
Then he went on, "I thought perhaps you didn't go for a day or two. I
will bring her back to-morrow in the night. And she shall not be
tired--not a bit. Oh, do lend her to me! Please do!"
"I wonder what foolery he's up to now," said Stephens to himself; "I do
hate to lend a horse anyhow--and to a harebrained Indian boy who'll just
ride all the fat off her in no time. Cheek, I call it, of him to ask
it."
"But," he continued in a not unfriendly tone, "why do you want her? Is
it flour you have to fetch?" Wheat flour was rather scarce this spring
in the pueblo, and some of the Indians were buying it over on the Rio
Grande.
"No, sir, it's not that. Only I want her," he added. "Oh please, Don
Estevan, please," said he with an imploring face; "do lend the mare or
the mule, or anything to ride. Oh do!" and he threw all the entreaty he
was capable of into his voice, till it trembled and almost broke into a
sob.
"Why, what ails the boy?" said Stephens, surprised at his emotion. "If
you want it so bad," he continued, "why don't you ask it from Tostado,
or Miguel, or some of them? They'll let you have one. You know I never
lend mine. If I did once, all the pueblo would be borrowing them every
day. You know it yourself. You've always told me yourself that it would
be like that." He was trying to harden his heart by going over his stock
argument against lending. "You see I can't do it. I'm going off to the
sierra to-morrow," and he turned away, leading the mule after him by the
rope.
But before he had gone far he stopped and looked round as if an idea had
struck him. "It might be a good notion to try and pump this boy a bit
right now," he considered; "he's so desperate eager to borrow the mare
he might be willing to let out a thing or two to please me." He beckoned
with his hand to Felipe, who was gazing regretfully after his employer.
"See here, Felipe," said Stephens, as the boy eagerly ran to him;
"there's something that I had in my mind to ask you, only I forgot. It's
just simply this--did you ever kill a rattlesnake?"
"Never, oh, never in my life!" cried the young Indian, with a voice of
horror.
"Well, and why not?" persisted the other. "What's your reason anyway?
What is there to prevent you?"
"Oh, but, Sooshiuamo, why should I?" said the boy in an embarrassed
manner, looking distractedly at the ground as he balanced himself
uneasily on one bare foot, crossing the other over it, and twiddling his
toes together. "I don't know," he added after a pause. "Why should I
kill them?"
"Well, they're ugly, venomous things," said the American, "and that
would be reason enough for anybody, I should think. But tell me another
thing then. What do your folks do with them in the estufa? Can't you
tell me that much?"
"What are you saying about things in the estufa?" cried the boy
excitedly. "Have any of the Mexicans been telling you, then, that we
keep a sacred snake in the pueblo? Don't you ever believe it, don't,
don't!" and his voice rose to a passionate shrillness that betrayed the
anxiety aroused in him by any intrusion on the mysteries of his people.
"The Mexicans be blowed!" said Stephens. "I'm talking to you now of what
I've just been seeing with my own eyes. There was a big old rattler came
out of the rock after I blasted it, and young Antonio went and caught it
by the neck and let it twist itself around his arm, and another fellow
went to playing with it with a bunch of feathers, and then they ran off
with it to the pueblo,--the cacique told them to,--and half a dozen more
chaps with them, as tight as they could go. Now I want to know what all
that amounts to."
"I can tell you this much," said Felipe after a moment's hesitation;
"Antonio is one of the Snakes; so were the others, of course, who went
with him. The snake is their grandfather, and so they know all about
snakes. But I'm a Turquoise, like you, Sooshiuamo. You are my uncle," he
added insinuatingly, "and you should be kind to me and lend me a horse
sometimes."
The American laughed aloud. "Oh, I know all about Grandfather Snake and
Grandfather Turquoise and the rest of them," he said. "But I'm not an
Indian, and I don't come into your family tree, even if you do call me
Sooshiuamo and I live in a Turquoise house. I don't lay claim to be any
particular sort of uncle to you. But I do want you should tell me
something more about this snake-charming business. Can't you let it
out?"
"But how can I let it out?" exclaimed Felipe in an irritated voice.
"Haven't I told you already that the Snakes know all about it, and not
me? You may be sure the Snakes keep their own affairs private, and don't
show them to outsiders. How should I know anything about the Snakes'
business?"
"Well, Felipe, if you won't, you won't, I suppose," said Stephens. "I
know you can be an obstinate young pig when you choose." He did not more
than half believe in the lad's professed ignorance. He hesitated a
moment as if in doubt whether to try another tack. "Look here, young
'un," he began again in a friendlier tone, "I'll pass that. We'll play
it you don't know anything about snakes. You're a full-blooded Turquoise
boy, you are, and your business is to know all about turquoises, and
turquoise mines, and so on. Very well." He was pleased to see a sort of
conscious smile come over the lad's mouth almost involuntarily. "All
right then. Let's play it that you are my nephew if you like. Now then,
fire ahead, you, and tell your uncle all about where we go to get our
turquoises from. You're bound to be posted up in these family matters.
There's a lot of things your uncle wants to hear. The silver plates for
the horse bridles, for instance, now; let's hear where they come from.
Go on; tell me about our silver mines."
"No, no, no!" he cried desperately, and he sprang back as if the
American had struck him with a whip. "It is impossible; there aren't
any; there are no such things; the Mexicans have been telling you that,
too, have they? but they're all liars, yes, liars; don't you ever
believe one word that they say about us." He paused, his lips parted
with excitement and his lithe frame passionately convulsed.
Regretfully Stephens looked at him and recognised that it was hopeless
to get anything out of him, at least in his present condition. "Very
well, Felipe," he said, "I think I understand your game. You just don't
choose, and that's about the size of it"; and gathering up the coils of
the lariat he turned abruptly away and led off the reluctant Captain
Jinks in the direction of the pueblo in order to saddle him up. He felt
decidedly cheap; as yet he had not scored a single trick in the game he
was trying to play.
Felipe stood looking after him disconsolately; at last he gave a heavy
sigh and walked back to where he had left his clothes, with drooping
head and flagging step, a figure how unlike the elastic form that had
burst full speed across the meadow five minutes before. "It's no use,"
said he to himself. "He doesn't care; he's a very hard man, is Don
Estevan." He did up his glossy hair into its queue, put on his long
buckskin leggings and his cotton shirt, worn outside in Indian fashion
like a tunic and secured with a leather belt, bound his red handkerchief
as a turban round his head--the universal pueblo head-dress--and with a
very heavy heart went back to his weeding.