Produced by Dianne Bean
Tales of Aztlan,
The Romance of a Hero of our Late Spanish-American War, Incidents ofInterest from the Life of a western Pioneer and Other Tales.
by
George Hartmann
A note about this book: A Maid of Yavapai, the final entry in thisbook, is dedicated to SMH. This refers to Sharlot M. Hall, a famousArizona settler. The copy of the book that was used to make this etextis dedicated: With my compliments and a Happy Easter, Apr 5th 1942, ToMiss Sharlot M. Hall, from The daughter of the Author, Carrie S.Allison, Presented March 31st, 1942, Prescott, Arizona.
1908 Revised edition
Memorial
That this volume may serve to keep forever fresh the memory of a hero,Captain William Owen O'Neill, U. S. V., is the fervent wish of TheAuthor.
CONTENTS
I. A FRAIL BARK, TOSSED ON LIFE'S TEMPESTUOUS SEAS II. PERILOUS JOURNEY III. THE MYSTERY OF THE SMOKING RUIN. STALKING A WARRIOR. THE AMBUSH IV. A STRANGE LAND AND STRANGER PEOPLE V. ON THE RIO GRANDE. AN ABSTRACT OF THE AUTHOR'S GENEALOGY OF MATERNAL LINEAGE VI. INDIAN LORE. THE WILY NAVAJO VII. THE FIGHT IN THE SAND HILLS. THE PHANTOM DOG VIII. WITH THE NAVAJO TRIBE IX. IN ARIZONA X. AT THE SHRINE OF A "SPHINX OF AZTLAN" AN UNCANNY STONE. L'ENVOY. THE BIRTH OF ARIZONA. (AN ALLEGORICAL TALE.) A ROYAL FIASCO. A MAID OF YAVAPAI.
CHAPTER I.
A FRAIL BARK, TOSSED ON LIFE'S TEMPESTUOUS SEAS
A native of Germany, I came to the United States soon after the CivilWar, a healthy, strong boy of fifteen years. My destination was avillage on the Rio Grande, in New Mexico, where I had relatives. I wasexpected to arrive at Junction City, in the State of Kansas, on a dayof June, 1867, and proceed on my journey with a train of freight wagonsover the famous old Santa Fe trail.
Junction City was then the terminal point of a railway system whichextended its track westward across the great American plains, over thevirgin prairie, the native haunt of the buffalo and fleet-footedantelope, the iron horse trespassing on the hunting ground of theArapahoe and Comanche Indian tribes. As a mercantile supply depot forNew Mexico and Colorado, Junction City was the port from whence anumerous fleet of prairie schooners sailed, laden with the necessitiesand luxuries of an advancing civilization. But not every sailor reachedhis destined port, for many were they who were sent by the pirates ofthe plains over unknown trails, to the shores of the great Beyond,their scalpless bodies left on the prairie, a prey to vultures andcoyotes.
If the plans of my relatives had developed according to program, thisstory would probably not have been told. Indians on the warpathattacked the wagon train which I was presumed to have joined, a shortdistance out from Junction City. They killed and scalped severalteamsters and also a young German traveler; stampeded and drove off anumber of mules and burned up several wagons. This was done whilefording the Arkansas River, near Fort Dodge. I was delayed near KansasCity under circumstances which preclude the supposition of chance andindicate a subtle and Inexorably fatal power at work for thepreservation of my life--a force which with the giant tread of theearthquake devastates countries and lays cities in ruins; that awfulpower which on wings of the cyclone slays the innocent babe in itscradle and harms not the villain, or vice versa; that inscrutablespirit which creates and lovingly shelters the sparrow over night andthen at dawn hands it to the owl to serve him for his breakfast. Safe Iwas under the guidance of the same loving, paternal Providence which indeath delivereth the innocent babe from evil and temptation, shieldsthe little sparrow from all harm forever, and incidentally providesthereby for the hungry owl.
I should have changed cars at Kansas City, but being asleep at thecritical time and overlooked by the conductor, I passed on to a stationbeyond the Missouri River. There the conductor aroused me and put meoff the train without ceremony. I was forced to return, and reached theriver without any mishap, as it was a beautiful moonlight night. Icrossed the long bridge with anxiety, for it was a primitive-lookingstructure, built on piles, and I had to step from tie to tie, lookingcontinually down at the swirling waters of the great, muddy river. As Irealized the possibility of meeting a train, I crossed over it,running. At last I reached the opposite shore. It was nearly dawn now,and I walked to the only house in sight, a long, low building of logsand, being very tired, I sat down on the veranda and soon fell asleep.It was not long after sunrise that a sinister, evil-looking person,smelling vilely of rum, woke me up roughly and asked me what I didthere. When he learned that I was traveling to New Mexico and had lostmy way, he grew very polite and invited me into the house.
We entered a spacious hall, which served as a dining-room, where eightyoung ladies were busily engaged arranging tables and furniture. Theman intimated that he kept a hotel and begged the young ladies to seeto my comfort and bade me consider myself as being at home. The girlswere surprised and delighted to meet me and overwhelmed me withquestions. They expressed the greatest concern and interest when theylearned that I was about to cross the plains.
"Poor little Dutchy," said one, "how could your mother send you out allalone into the cruel, wide world!" "Mercy, and among the Indians, too,"said another. When I replied that my dear mother had sent me awaybecause she loved me truly, as she knew that I had a better chance toprosper in the United States than in the Fatherland, they called me acute little chap and smothered me with their kisses.
The tallest and sweetest of these girls (her name was Rose) pulled myears teasingly and asked if her big, little man was not afraid of theIndians. "Not I, madame," I replied; "for my father charged me to behonest and loyal, brave and true, and fear not and prove myself aworthy scion of the noble House of Von Siebeneich." "Oh, my! Oh, my!"cried the young ladies, and "Did you ever!" and "No, I never!" and "Whowould have thought it!" Regarding me wide-eyed with astonishment, theylistened with bated breath as I explained that I was a linealdescendant of the Knight Hartmann von Siebeneich, who achievedeverlasting fame through impersonating the Emperor Frederick(Barbarossa) of Germany, in order to prevent his capture by the enemy.I told how the commander of the Italian army, inspired with admirationby the desperate valor of the loyal knight, released him and did honorhim greatly. And how this noble knight, my father's ancestor, followedthe Emperor Frederick to the Holy Land and fought the Saracens. "And,"added I, "my father's great book of heraldry contains the legend of thecurse which fell on our house through the villainy of the ImperialGrand Chancellor of Blazonry, who was commanded to devise and procure abrand new heraldic escutcheon for our family.
"He blazoned our shield with the ominous motto, 'in der fix, Habennix,' over gules d'or on a stony field, which was sown to a harvest oftares and oats, and embossed with a whirlwind rampant. As they were inknightly honor bound to live up to the motto on their shield, myancestor were doomed to remain poor forever. At last they took servicewith the free city of Hamburg, where they settled finally and becamehonored citizens."
Happening to remember my mother's admonishment not to annoy people withtoo much talk, I apologized to the young ladies. Smilingly, they beggedme to continue, for they seemed to enjoy my boyish prattle.
"Listen, now, girls," said Rose laughingly to her companions, "now, Ishall make him open his mother's closet a
nd show us her choicest familyskeleton." "Oh, no, Miss Rose," I protested, "my mother has indeed agreat closet, but it is full of good things to eat and contains noskeletons." "You little goosie-gander; you don't understand," repliedMiss Rose; "I was only joking. Of course your mother kept the doorcarefully locked to keep you boys from foraging?" "No madame," said I,"it was not necessary to lock the door." "Did she keep a guard, then?"said Rose. "Oh, yes," I replied, "and it was very hard to pass inwithout being knocked down." "Was it a man?" she asked mischievously."Why, yes; mamma kept a strong, old Limburger right behind the door," Isaid.
When the girls had ceased laughing, Rose said, "What did your mothertell you when you left for America?" "My mother," I answered, "imploredme with tearful eyes to ever remember how my father'sgreat-great-grandmother Brunhilde (who was exceedingly beautiful) wasenticed into the depths of a dark forest by a wily, old German King.Indiscreetly and unsuspectingly she followed him. There clandestinelydid he favor her graciously by adding a bar sinister to our knightlyescutcheon and a strain of the blood royal to our family. This happenedlong, long ago in the dark ages or some other dark place--it may havebeen the Schwarzwald--and it was the curse of the stony field that didit.
"'Oh, my son,' mother urged me, 'we count on you to restore theunaccountably long-lost prestige of our ancient family. In America,behind the counters of your uncle's counting-rooms, you shall acquiregreat wealth, and his Majesty the Kaiser will be pleased to re-investyou with the coronet of a count. Then, as a noble count will you be ofsome account in the exclusive circle of the four hundred of the greatcity of New York. Beautiful heiresses will crave the favor of youracquaintance, and if wise, you will lead the most desirable one on themarket, the lovely Miss Billiona Roque-a-Fellaire to the altar. HisMajesty the Kaiser will then graciously change the "no-account" wordson our family's escutcheon to the joyful motto, "Mit Geld," and liftthe blighting curse from our noble house.'"
Next I related how surprised I was when I saw the great city of NewYork. However, I expected to see a large city of many houses, ever sohigh and some higher yet, and therefore I was not so very muchsurprised, after all. But in Illinois I first saw the wonderful forest.Oh, the virgin forest! Never had I seen such grand, beautiful trees,oak and hickory, ash and sycamore, maple, elm, and many more gianttrees, unknown to me, and peopled by a multitude of wild birds of thebrightest plumage. There were birds and squirrels everywhere! Iactually saw a sky-blue bird with a topknot, and another of a brightscarlet color, and gorgeous woodpeckers who were too busy hammering tolook at me even. Oh, but they did not sing like the birds in Germany!All were very grave and sad. They seemed to know, as everybody elsedid, that I was a stranger in their land, for they gave me all sorts ofuseful Information and advice, with many nods of their little heads.
"Peep, peep!" counseled the bluebird. "Thank you," I replied, "seeingis believing." "Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will," cried a large, spottedbird. "That," thought I, "is a prize fighter." "Cheat, cheat!" urged apious-looking cardinal, who evidently mistook me for a gambler."Don't," roared a bullfrog, who was seated on a log and winked his eyeat me. "There is an honest man," I thought. "Shake, good sir." Inconsternation and surprise, I instantly released his hand. "HOW is itpossible to be both honest and slippery at the same time! This must bea Yankee-man," thought I. I saw real moss, green and velvety as therichest carpet, and I drank of singing, bubbling waters. Many kinds ofberries and nuts, hard to crack, grew in the wild glens of the forest.I gathered flowers, larger and more beautiful than any I had ever seen,but they lacked the perfume of German flowers; only the roses were thesame.
Many children did I see, but they had not the rosy cheeks of Germanchildren. And I met the strongest of all beasts on earth and trackedhim to his native lair; and there, in the sacred groves of the Illini,I worried him sorely, and as David did unto Goliath, so did I unto him;and sundown come, I slew him. And for three-score days and ten thesmoke of battle scented the balmy air.
The young ladles laughed heartily and said that never before had theybeen so delightfully entertained, and they gave me sweets and nicethings to eat, and said they hoped I might stay with them forever and aday. We exchanged confidences, and they warned me to beware of thelandlord, who had been known to rob people. They advised me to secretemy money, if perchance I had any. I thanked them kindly, replying thatI had only one dollar in my purse. This was true, but I did not tellthem that I had sewed a large sum in banknotes and some German silverinto my kite's tail when I set out on my journey to the West.
I complimented these charming girls on their good fortune to be in theservice of so generous a gentleman as their landlord seemed to be; forI saw that they wore very fine dresses and had many jewels. "Why, youlittle greenie," said Miss Rose, "he does not pay us high wages." "Oh,I see, how romantic! how nice!" exclaimed I. "You do as the ladies inthe good old time of chivalry, when knights donned their colors andsallied forth to battle with lions and tigers. You crave largesse, andthe gentlemen favor you with money and jewels." Then the youngest girllaughed and said, "Oh, you pore, innicent bairn, and how do yez ken allthis? and how did yez know that Misther Payterson kapes a tiger at all,at all, begorra!" Another young lady said, "Dutchy, I reckon yore daddyis a right smart cunning old fox!" "Madame," replied I, indignantly,"my father is no fox, but a minister of the Gospel." "Oh, this bye isthe son of a praste," screamed the loveliest girl in all Missouri."Indade, I misthrusted the little scamp. Och! oh and where is mebrooch? I thought all the time the little divvil was afther something.Thieves! Murther!" Confusion in pandemonium now reigned supreme. Forone precious moment the air seemed full of long-legged stockings anddelicate hands and purses. Luckily, the brooch was found and peacerestored at once. And Rose said, "Oh, girls, how could you!" and shebegged my pardon and said they did not mean it. And then I made myselfvery useful and agreeable to these lovely maids, lacing their shoes anddusting their chamber, and right gallantly did I serve them untilevening.
After supper reappeared my evil genius in the person of the landlord,who took me out to the woodshed. "Dutchy, I have decided to adopt youas my only son; have you ever bucked a wood saw?" said he, and asardonic leer distorted his evil features. After I recoveredsufficiently from the shock, I answered indignantly, "Sir, know ye notthat I have pledged my service to the vestal virgins of yon temple?""Ha! Ha!" laughed the villain, "get busy now, son, and if by morningthis wood has not been cut, you will go minus your breakfast."Thereupon he locked me in.
Caught as a rat in a trap, I had no alternative but to comply with thisman's outrageous demands. Despairingly I plied that abominableinstrument of torture, the national bucksaw of America. This is theonly American institution I could never accustom myself to. I haveendured bucking bronchos in New Mexico, I have bucked the tiger inArizona, but to buck a wood-saw--perish the thought! Sore and weary, Ilay down in a corner of the shed on some hay and fell asleep. I dreamedthat I heard screams of women, mingled with song and laughter, andthrough it all the noise of music and dancing. Then the dream changedinto a horrible nightmare in the shape of a big sawhorse which kickedat me and threatened me with hard labor.
Toward morning, when the door was opened and a drunken ruffian entered,I awoke from my troubled slumbers. "Hi, Dutchy, and have yez any tin?"he threatened. "Kind sir," I replied, "when I departed for the West Ileft all my wealth behind me." Verily, now I was proving myself theworthy scion of valiant men, who had laid aside hauberk, sword, andlance, taken up the Bible and stole, and thenceforth fought only withthe weapon of Samson, the strong!
"And so yez are, by special appointment, chamberlain to the gurruls byday, and ivver sawing wood at nighttime! Bedad! I'll shpile the thrickfor Misther Payterson, the thaving baste, and take this littlegreenhorn out of his clutches and sind him about his business." Withthese words, he opened the door for me and I escaped.
Farewell, lovely maids of Kansas and Missouri! If mayhap this writingcomes to you, oh, let us meet again; my heart yearns to greet you andyour granddaughters. For surely, t
hough it seems to me as yesterday,the blossoms of forty summers have fallen in our path and whitened ourhair.
Tales of Aztlan; The Romance of a Hero of Our Late Spanish-American War, Incidents of Interest from the Life of a Western Pioneer and Other Tales Page 1
