III
WARLIKE PUEBLOS
The party of Indians halted for nearly ten minutes, evidently inexcited dispute, accompanying their talk with much gesticulation. Ihad time to notice that the details of dress were not like those ofthe Navajos with whom we had recently had a fight; but as the oldhunter Cordova had pronounced them Navajos, I gave the matter littleconsideration. They did not seem to be aware of the existence of anencampment of soldiers in the valleys, and after a brief delay movedon towards La Puerta.
Returning to the parade, I ordered the six mules and four poniesbrought to my door, saddled and bridled, and all the men not on guardto assemble under arms with cartridge-boxes filled. Fortunately, themail-riders had arrived the previous evening from Santa Fe, so Iordered them to form a part of the expedition, and placed the partyof thirteen under command of Sergeant Cunningham, mounted upon myhorse.
The sergeant was directed to take the "reserved trail" through thehills into the valley of San Antonio and bring his men into thewestern end of La Puerta before the Indians could pass through it. Iimpressed it upon him on no account to fire unless the redmen showedfight, to leave his mules and horses concealed in the timber at theentrance of the canon, and so dispose his men as to convey theimpression that thirteen was but a part of his force.
Just before the horsemen were to start I overheard Private Tom Clary,who was mounted on Frank's recent equine acquisition, Sancho, say tothe boy:
"Corpril Frank, laddie, can ye give me the Naviho words for _whoa_ and_get up_? I'm afeared the little baste 'll not understand me English,and may attimpt to lave for his troibe."
"You needn't speak to him, Tom. Use your reins, curb, and spurs,"replied the boy.
"True for you, corpril; a pull to stop, and a spur to go ahead. That'sa language that nades no interpreter."
For myself, I proposed to follow up the Navajos with the rest of thecompany as soon as they were fairly within the canon, and I expectedto capture them without blood-shed.
We started, the mounted men turning to the north of the wooded pointand entering the forest, and the footmen marching direct for LaPuerta. I kept my men out of sight under the rolls of the valleysurface, and moved at quick time. When the redmen were well within thewalls of the canon we deployed right and left, and closed up rapidlybehind them.
The Indians showed perceptible astonishment when they perceived thisunexpected and warlike demonstration, but they soon recovered, andthen, feeling the superiority of the mounted man over the footman,they broke into derisive shouts and made gestures conveying theircontempt for us. This continued for some time, when they suddenlyshowed confusion. They dashed at a gallop to the north side of thepassage, and skirted it for a considerable distance, as if looking fora place of escape. Failing to find one they dashed wildly to the otherside, where they met with no better success, and then they halted andconsulted.
Presently one of their number rode out and waved a white cloth. Uponthis I approached alone and made signs for them to dismount and laydown their arms. They did so, and at another sign withdrew in a body,when my men picked up everything and collected their ponies.
I was certainly surprised at such a bloodless result of my strategy,and, after shaking hands with the chief, began my return march tocamp.
We had gone but a short distance when I overheard Private Clary, oneof the mounted men, who was riding near me, say to Private Hoey besidehim.
"D'ye moind the cut uv thim chaps' hair, Jarge?"
"Indade I do that, Tom," replied George.
"Thim's no Navihos!"
"Not a bit uv it. I'd as soon expict to see one in currls!"
I had a wholesome respect for the opinions of these old soldiers, forthey had campaigned against Indians in Texas, Utah, Colorado, and NewMexico long before I had seen a more savage redman than the indolent,basket-making descendants of the Passamaquoddies and Penobscots.Accordingly, without appearing to notice their remarks, I approachedthe chief, and said, interrogatively:
"Apache?"
A shake of the head.
"Ute?"
Another shake.
"Navajo?"
"Si, senor!" he said, with a bow of his head, and I moved triumphantlyon, satisfied that my eighty-three prisoners were Navajos.
But presently I heard Clary ask, "Jarge, did ye iver see Navihos withblankets like thim?"
"Niver!" answered Hoey, emphatically.
Evidently the two soldiers did not believe they were Navajos, and were"talking at me." But if not Navajos, Apaches, or Utes, who were thesewarriors?
When we were near camp we were met by Cordova, who had remained behindto recover from the fatigue of his early morning run. As soon as hecame up to the Indians there seemed to be an immediate recognition. Heand the chief met and embraced, and conversed for a few moments in alanguage that was neither English nor Spanish. Then the hunter turnedto me, looking shamefaced, and said, in Spanish, "Lieutenant, theseIndians are Pueblos, of Santo Domingo."
Whoever knows the character of the Pueblos will appreciate the joke Ihad perpetrated upon myself. Many towns in New Mexico are inhabited bythese Indians--towns which stood on their present sites when Coronadoentered the country in 1541. They form an excellent part of thepopulation, being temperate, frugal, and industrious. They dress inIndian style, and when at war paint and disfigure themselves like anyother of the red peoples, so that a green soldier would see nodifference between them and the wilder tribes.
The Pueblos explained that they were in pursuit of a band of Navajoswho had stolen some of their cattle the previous night. When theyfirst saw Cordova they attempted to approach him to inquire if he hadseen any Navajo "signs."
My appearance and warlike demonstrations they could not account for,not knowing there was a camp of soldiers in the valley. When I putthe questions, Apache? Ute? Navajo? the chief thought I was asking himif he was in pursuit of a party of one of those tribes. Being inpursuit of Navajos, he answered yes to that name.
A week after my captives had returned to their homes in Santo Domingo,at the close of a long and fruitless search for their lost stock, agentleman and his servant, mounted on broncos and leading a pack-mule,rode up to my cabin late in the afternoon. He introduced himself as agovernment Indian agent for the Navajos, and handed me a letter fromthe department commander. It stated that the bearer was on his way tothe Indian pueblo of Jemez, to prevent the massacre of a number ofNavajo women, children, and old men who had sought asylum there, andauthorized me to furnish him with all the aid in my power.
After dismounting and entering my quarters, the agent stated that, theNavajo country being over-run by national troops, many of theprincipal men had sent their wives and children, with a few old men,to Jemez for safety; that the party of Dominicans which had beenrecently captured by us, being bitterly disappointed at their lack ofsuccess in retaking their missing cattle, had determined to go toJemez and wreak vengeance upon the enemy.
The Santo Dominicans had informed the people of Jemez that if theyinterfered to prevent the slaughter of the Navajos they would beconsidered by the military authorities as allies of that tribe, andtreated accordingly.
Convinced, from what the agent told me, that I should act withoutunnecessary delay, I proposed that we should start for Jemez at once,but he declared himself too much fatigued by a long journey toundertake a night ride of twenty-six miles. My instructions from thegeneral were to conform my movements to the wishes of the agent, so Ivery reluctantly and much against my convictions concluded to waituntil morning. He strongly insisted there was no reason for haste, asthe Dominicans had not planned to leave their pueblo before noon.
We set out, therefore, at four o'clock next morning. SergeantCunningham asked permission to accompany the expedition, and I allowedhim to do so, leaving Sergeant Mulligan in charge until our return.
We were a party of thirteen, mounted on every available animal incamp. Henry was left behind, but Frank accompanied us, mounted on therecently captured Sancho, proud of his ho
rse and proud to be includedin the detachment.
We passed through an interesting country, filled with wind-carvenpillars and minarets, eroded shelves and caverns, and lunched atnoonday beside a dozen boiling sulphur springs. We also passedCanoncito, the little village which was the home of Jose Cordova.
As we came in sight of the tinned spires of the church at Jemez, weheard a distinct murmur, and halted at once. In a moment the murmurswelled into an unmistakable Indian war-whoop. It was plainly evidentthe Dominicans had arrived before us.
As soon as I heard the war-whoop I told Sergeant Cunningham to bringup the men as rapidly as possible, sticking to the travelled road,and, accompanied by the agent and Corporal Frank, I put spurs to myhorse and dashed towards the town.
Our route was through the cultivated land, while that of the soldierswas on the hard ground along the foot-hills. Ours was in a directline, over deep, soft earth, frequently crossed by irrigating ditches,while theirs, although nearly treble the distance, was over firm soilwithout a break. We struck directly for the church spires, which Iknew rose from the central plaza.
Often we plunged down the banks of _acequias_, carrying avalanches ofsoil with us into two or three feet of water, to make a difficultscramble up the crumbling wall of the opposite side; and as we nearedthe pueblo, the louder grew the discordant yells of the Dominicans.
As I reached the border of the plantation I found between me and theroad, which here entered the town, a cactus hedge about five feethigh, with no passage through it except at a considerable distance tothe right. The agent veered away to the opening, but Corporal Frankkept Sancho close behind me, and I gave my good thoroughbred his headand rode sharply at the hedge, cleared it at a bound, receiving but afew scratches from the cactus spines. Turning my head as I came intothe road, I saw Frank come through like a trooper and join me.
Clear of the hedge, I found myself at the foot of a narrow streetwhich passed between two tall adobe buildings and entered the plazanear the centre of its western side. I took it at a run, and whenhalf-way through saw directly before its inner end, facing the north,a group of old, gray-haired Navajos standing alone with their armsfolded, and holding their blankets firmly about their breasts, whilein their immediate front were some one hundred mounted Indians,painted and ornamented in true aboriginal warrior style.
On the terraced fronts of the houses and their flat roofs, and alongthe three sides of the square, seemed to be gathered the entirepopulation of the town, looking passively on.
Before I had more than taken in the situation, a rattling discharge ofrifles came from the direction of the Dominicans, and the old men fellin a heap to the ground. Covered with dust and mud, our horses reekingwith foam, Corporal Frank and I burst through the crowd of spectatorson the west side of the plaza, and gained the open space just as thefiring-party was advancing with gleaming knives and wild yells tocomplete the tragedy by scalping the slain.
Raising my right hand I shouted, in Spanish, "Stop where you are!"
Frank had unslung his carbine and was holding it by the small of thestock in his right hand, the barrel resting in his left, lookingcalmly and resolutely at the hesitating Indians. The blood of threegenerations of soldierly ancestors was thrilling his veins with aresolution to act well in any emergency which might arise.
The Pueblos halted, and at the same moment a group of eighteen womenand nearly three times as many children, some of them in arms, who hadbeen reserved--as I afterwards learned--for later shooting, ran intothe space and clung to my feet, stirrups, and the mane and tail of myhorse, entreating with eyes and voices for protection.
The war-cries had ceased and the Dominicans had gathered in an angryand gesticulating group, when Sergeant Cunningham and the rest of themen appeared on foot, running into the plaza from a side street, andformed in line before us.
The massacre ended with the death of the old men. Aided by the agentand the Catholic priest of the pueblo I succeeded in impressing uponthe Jemez warriors that they must discountenance any further hostiledemonstrations of the Santo Dominicans, and told the latter thatunless they promptly withdrew and departed for their own reservation Ishould punish them for their recent conduct. They at once sullenlydeparted.
That evening, by the light of a brilliant moon, the dead Navajos wereburied upon a hill-top overlooking the town, amid the wailing of theirwomen and much ceremonious demonstration by the Jemez people, andFrank and I retired for the night to the house of the hospitablepriest.
Early the following morning I held an inspection of the mules andhorses, and finding the wheel and swing spans were much exhausted bythe unaccustomed gait they had maintained in the forced march from thevalleys, I determined to give them a day's rest before making thereturn trip. Finding Sergeant Cunningham's, Frank's, and my own horsesnone the worse for their exertions, I concluded that we three wouldreturn at once to camp. I placed Corporal Duffy in charge of theparty, and told him after one day had passed to return by way of thehot springs.
Instead of returning by the route we came, the sergeant, Frank, and Iwere to take a shorter and rougher one pointed out to us by PadreGutierrez. This trail was almost as straight as an arrow, but ledthrough a section of the country over which we had not scouted. Athalf-past nine o'clock the three of us started, Vic bounding andbarking at my horse's head.
Captured by the Navajos Page 3
