There is a world of people out there that demonstrate strange activities when away on a river trip. They are in new situation that allows them to act in ways they normally wouldn’t. The boys were caught red handed being peeping Toms but were they guilty of stealing people’s personal property?
Hidalgo couldn’t stand it. He walked over to where the two boys were being held. Bloodied; one of them was still trying to stop a nosebleed. “Who hit these kids,” he said angrily while bolting into the crowd.
“What’s it to you?” Demanded one fellow who seemed to be the ringleader and maddest in the crowd, the one who was discovered with the young lady and caught the boys in the first place. He reached up to hit one of the boys again but Hidalgo caught his arm, turning him around. Hidalgo then shoved the man to the ground.
Hidalgo stood over him daring him to get up. “Why did you hit these kids,” he asked again?
“Do you have any authority here,” the man demanded?
“I am a detective with the La Plata Police, and yes I do have authority here!” He had lied, something that any real Navajo would never do. In Navajo culture there isn’t even a word for it, they use the English or the Spanish word, mentiroso.
Corey and I said nothing but decided that Hidalgo was usually right in situations like this. The argument continued for a while but with the crowd pushing in they decided to agree to Hidalgo’s authority.
“Someone needs to go back to Bluff and call the authorities.” said Hidalgo angrily. With that, one young man who was obviously very athletic volunteered to hike out to the main road and hitchhike back to Bluff. It would be a tough ordeal taking many hours to accomplish.
The crowd was getting pushy; Hidalgo demanded that everyone sit down. They did. Hidalgo knew that if he could get them off their feet and sitting down the anger would subside. He needed facts now that he had the crowd under control. He knew the peace wouldn’t last unless he could produce answers and he knew he didn’t have a clue as to what had really happened.
Jeremy, age sixteen and Thomas, age fourteen were not really bad kids. After searching their tent and finding nothing, Hidalgo talked to them for about forty minutes, one at a time. Their parents, who were headed toward a divorce, had gotten into a heated argument and had made the monumental mistake of taking off down river separately thinking that the children were with the other parent. The mother had left with another party of river runners who were feeling sorry for her. Their father, without even bothering to pack up his tent and gear had taken off with the family raft thinking the boys were with their mother. They were probably just discovering their mistake but it would take a while to correct the problem. The bored and hungry kids had milled around camp several days waiting for their parents to return. They finally had discovered a new game to play which was watching other people. They hadn’t stolen anything except some food. Everyone was watching other people. Everyone was guilty.
“I want everyone in this camp sitting right here, and I want to know who has been in this camp the longest.”
Everyone just sat there looking at each other. Hidalgo brought their attention back to focus. “If these, pointing to the kids, are not the thieves all of you will be held legally responsible for child abuse.” He paused until he was sure of the reaction he would get, and then he said, “Let’s get our facts on the table.” He now had them a little worried and was working the crowd. Everyone there described what they had lost. “Who has been here more than a week, Hidalgo demanded?”
“I want to see everyone’s river permit.” The problem was many of them didn’t know where their permits were as they kept them with their wallets inside their personal bags that had vanished.
“Well, most of you are civilized people. How long have you been staying here?” They went through a process of comparing days in camp and checking the river permits, the ones that could be produced. Hidalgo was thinking that maybe the bad guys had been there awhile making a business out of stealing from the local people. The oldest permit was not the boy’s but rather Jonathan Jones, an elderly gentleman and his wife who obviously didn’t have a need to steal from anyone. The Jones’ had been there for two weeks and were in no hurry to get down river as they were actually living there and planned to continue living there until Mr. Jones had written the next chapter of his book, a detective story.
The group was narrowed down to only a few individuals. One, the one who was attempting to strike the young boy, was Jeffery Overholt who was there with his girlfriend from Denver. The one discovered making love while the boys watched and he was also the one that caught them and broke the oldest boy’s nose.
John and Susan O’Conner had been there almost a week spending a generous amount of time photographing everything possible. Finally there was Paul Baca who was on a solo canoe trip. He had just gotten out of the military and wanted to relax and explore for a few days. Everyone else was overnighters. The group broke up and everyone returned to their camps as kids were complaining that they were hot and hungry.
A line of cars soon showed up at the Combs Ridge trailhead. After a short hike over to the camping area, the Bluff City Police along with some BLM rangers and a couple of locals from Bluff who were curious and wanted to help arrived at the camps. Everyone again converged upon the camp to see what was going to happen. Everyone had their camp searched. But before everyone had been searched Hidalgo noticed someone missing.
“Where is Overholt’s camp?” Everyone started walking over to Overholt’s camp but it turned out to be an empty tent with a sleeping bag stuffed with empty wallets and personal bags. He and his girlfriend, along with his raft had vanished.
“There is no way we could catch him now, even if we were prepared to dart down the river,” the BLM ranger said matter of fact, “They may be fast but the soonest they can get to Mexican Hat is tomorrow and that would require them to float all night long. Besides, they cannot go faster than the speed of a radio call. The police will be there waiting for them.”
“What about those kids?” Hidalgo asked.
The Bluff city policeman said, “We will take them into Bluff for now until we can find their parents. The parents of course, will have to be prosecuted.
Hidalgo said, “You realize that many people will need to make phone calls to be rescued. The policeman answered, “We will set up a shuttle to get people in to a phone but that’s about all we can do for them. We have experienced a little thievery on this river, especially in this area, but nothing like this.
The policemen thanked Hidalgo for doing a good job in routing out the suspects and handling the crowd. “It was obvious that they were using the boys as a decoy to cover up for their own actions. We will get them,” stated one of the policemen confidently.
I looked at Hidalgo and said, “Do you remember that apparition we saw yesterday?
“Sure,” answered Hidalgo.
“I think you were right,” I said thoughtfully. “It was a witch looking for trouble, and we found it. Do you realize that not a single person here saw it but us?”
“That’s true,” agreed Hidalgo, “Maybe we were the only ones who were supposed to see it.” With that said we got back into our canoes and made the very short trip across the river to find a campsite under some rock bluffs overlooking the river as it cut through the Mexican Hat Anticline. Hidalgo would now get to explore many miles of Chinle Wash with all the pictographs, petroglyphs and cliff dwellings that he wanted. Corey and I stayed in camp most of the time enjoying the first privacy we had experienced for some time.
Chinle Wash
Hidalgo came back, late the following day, dog tired and dehydrated. Corey and I went out of our way to make him comfortable. The first thing he did after drinking some water was to go down to the river and lay in the cooling water. Corey and I was both curious as to what he had found hiking up Chinle Wash and even more importantly, had he seen any more apparitions like the one we had all seen while hiking Comb Ridge. While I prepared dinner that evening Hidalgo gav
e a detailed review of his experiences.
“Actually the country is similar to what we experience around Serpiente; granaries, cliff dwellings and classic petroglyphs. The ruins here are not constructed as well as the ones we found at Serpiente and they seem to be isolated and hidden. One major thing that I discovered was two active pictographs. Someone out there is still applying fresh pigments to at least two pictographs and one of them is not your normal pictograph. The one close to camp here is a normal pictograph like many others that we have seen around here, a classic anthropomorphic with fresh red, white and blue pigment on it. The other one, in a side canyon well up Chinle Wash, depicts some kind of creature that I have never seen before. This pictograph has a creature that truly looks more alien than human. I realize that people are always confused by pictographs.” He stopped for a minute to find the words to explain his point. “For example, modern people look at pictographs of humans who have two large structures on the sides of their heads and assume that they must be wearing helmets or antennae or something. Actually all you need to do is look at modern Indians to see that the women often wear their hair in two large balls on the side of their heads. It was a common style in ancient times.” He continued making his point. “Artists and of course television shows always show Indians wearing headbands with feathers stuck in the back of them, showing the rank of the warrior. Actually they wore a single feather in the front of the headband to shade their eyes from the suns glare. Only the chiefs wore multiple feathers in bonnets used only in ceremonies and certainly not during a war campaign.
The Apparition
I had prepared a treat that evening; tortellini with the classic cheese sauce. It should have been great. And really it was despite the grit that somehow found its way into the sauce. There was sand in the food, prompting Hidalgo to do something out of his nature, he found himself in the most unlikely of situations; initiating a nervous conversation.
He began by teasing Corey, who had just bitten into something that hurt. Then Hidalgo managed to find another grain of sand that he spit out. Finally I found some grit in a dainty bite that I was working on. I didn’t want to break a tooth if there really was sand in the food. For a moment I thought; they were teasing. Sure enough, as I had discovered, there really was sand in the cheese sauce. I had no idea how I had managed the deed. Perhaps I had picked up some sand with the spoon I used to stir the mixture of sauce and tortellini. Sure, I was still learning to cook, and camp cooking was a particular challenge but I actually took pride in my work.
Hidalgo realized the embarrassment that I was suffering though and came to my rescue. “You have to think about it,” he replied to me. “It simply isn’t that romantic picture that most bilagannas have about living out here, especially when it comes to ancient people who lived here. Their clothing was very utilitarian. They used animal skins for breeches and feathers for coats.”
“Why would they use feathers for coats?” I asked.
Hidalgo thought about it for a moment and said, “For the same reason that birds fluff up their feathers; feathers make a great insulator. By tying hundreds of feathers together they could make a great coat to keep the chill wind off of them. The people, who lived here in the past, lived on the edge of existence. They had many skills; they could survive here when no one else could. They were all survivalist. Yet they could die from any of a number of things; in fact very few of them lived to what you would call an old age.”
“Right now, most people who live around this area depend in one way or another on the petroleum industry continued Hidalgo. “Without petroleum and cheap energy, the only thing that would bring money into this area is a little cattle ranching and tourism. It would be lean pickings for all the natives. In the old days, some natives did make it to old age, but the vast majority of them died young. When their bones are examined by archeologist, most of them suffered from numerous broken bones. Because of extremely limited amounts of sugar their dental work showed no dental decay, but they did show enormous wear from a daily dose of sandy grit that wore their teeth down. They ground their corn between rocks. There simply was no way of getting the grains of sand out of the food as the rock itself wore down. It was impossible to keep all the sand out, just like it is for river runners now. No matter how careful we are, we will find sand in our food, and it will get worse as we go down the river.”
Corey broke out laughing. Realizing what Hidalgo was up to. I also saw through his charade but decided to play along; I had other interests in mind. I wanted to learn more and since I was the one who was the most innocent and could get away with it. My question would have to be seriously considered, even if was painful for Hidalgo.
I asked him a theoretical question that I knew the answer to from spending many evenings with Aunt June discussing archeology. “What would it have been like to live here as an Indian a thousand or two thousand years ago?”
Hidalgo had to think about what he was being asked and decided to answer the question a little differently. “Well, obviously there was none of the modern conveniences we enjoy today. Their food consisted mostly of fresh game if they could catch it. They certainly knew how to preserve food but it was without salt and marinades. They did use some spices to flavor up their food but the average Indian person was very thin in those days. My forefathers and elders were all thin people unlike many Navajos today.”
“After thousands of years of near starvation we suddenly were living in a world of plenty, that is why most natives are now overweight. Our bodies are not used to the amazing varieties of food available at any supermarket now. Mesquite beans, squash, corn, and meat and here, because of the river, fish were the principle foods they ate. Eating a diet consisting of primarily meat, they suffered from the same problem many modern people suffer from who live in northern climates. A person can starve if all they have is meat protein in their diet. They suffered from a problem that few modern people would consider; constipation.”
I reached over and playfully patted Hidalgo on the stomach. “Yes,” Hidalgo said with a twinkle in his eyes, “That is why I’m overweight; I truly enjoy good food, especially when you are cooking.”
I laughed and said “Please go on.”
“Although they suffered through the diseases Europeans brought with them like smallpox, they did have to deal with plague and hanta virus just like we still do. I’m sure they suffered their far share of rattlesnake, spider and scorpion stings. Head lice were always a problem. The only cure was to mix up a batch of thick mud and apply it to your head, let it dry and wear it a few days. The lice would suffocate and you were good till next time. They would occasionally take their cloths and bedding out to ant beds and leave them for several hours. The ants would eat all the lice that were on them.”
“Sounds delightful, I laughed; “It must have put a stop to any romantic notions?”
“I wouldn’t know” answered Hidalgo with a laugh. He thought for a moment then continued. “When someone takes something that belongs to you, you feel you have been stolen from and the thief did something wrong. Early Indians believed that stealing from others was a trophy, and that is how power was obtained. Of course, they never stole from another member of their own tribe. A skilled warrior who gathered the most things was able to gain the respect of others in his tribe. Actually,” replied Hidalgo, “They were the same as all ancient cultures; a successful warrior could afford several wives.” Hidalgo looked at me to see if what he had said would get a response.
Corey, who couldn’t help himself, teased me by poking me in the ribs and saying, “Most men can’t deal with one wife, why in the world would they want more than one wife?”
I quickly countered his point by saying, “I know at least one fellow who may never keep his wife unless he changes his attitude.”
Hidalgo was enjoying the playful joust between the two of us but wanted to get the conversation back on task. “To share the work,” he explained. “The more wives a warrior had the less work each wife had to do. I�
�m sure a blushing bride concerned herself little with sharing her husband with other women, as long as the work was also shared. After all, they were all taking care of one person, our noble warrior.”
“The Indian world was not a world where you celebrate a holidays such as Christmas or Valentine’s Day and then return to your regular work where you forget what you did and look forward to the next vacation.” Glancing at both of us he said, “Isn’t that what most modern day people do?”
We both nodded, with grins on our faces. Hidalgo frowned, and then continued in a quieter voice. “These people went through every minute of every day doing their daily rituals that were blessed and governed by their ceremonies. Native ceremonies are never scheduled; they are done whenever they are needed. But what separates the ancient cultures that lived here was something to do with their ceremonies. All ancient peoples relied upon shamans, what you call witchdoctors to help them get through life. Certainly in my own culture, we have many ceremonies such as the Blessing Way.
“The Blessing Way,” I asked? “All of this was new to me, growing up in Tennessee; I was entertaining a whole new view of the world.
Hidalgo responded, “We have two major rites; the Blessing Way as the name implies, is used to ensure good luck and prosperity and the Enemy Way which is used to exorcise the ghosts of aliens. It came from older ceremonies used to protect warriors from the ghost of those they had killed. Both, of course, are a lot more complicated than the names. In the Indian world, everything has a life force in it. When a person dies, the life force leaves the body and is absorbed by other living organisms. There is power in even the smallest of living things.
Hidalgo took a long sip of coffee, discovering that it was already getting cold; he didn’t want to waste the coffee. After several gulps he continued, “I cannot really speak of what happened in the ancient cultures here, however it is obvious that their belief in witchcraft took a dark turn. Sure, they were influenced by other tribes of people all around them, particularly from Central America. We know they traded with those people because of items found in their ruins such as parrot feathers, jade, and shell. Those items come from thousands of miles away. Despite the vast distances, the Chacoan civilization was certainly aware of other peoples. Tribes that lived to the extreme south of them practiced human sacrifice and perfected the power of the dead. There, the dead have more power and are more important than the living. I’m sure they influenced the people here. But,” after a long pause, “something bizarre was happening here.”
The Family at Serpiente Page 34
