Part 20 (2/2)

”Even though he had not succeeded in getting rid of the Iron s.h.i.+rts, the Turk was not so disappointed as he might have been. The Caciques did not know it, but killing the strangers or losing them had been only a part of his plan.

”All that winter at Tiguex the Turk had seen the horses die, or grow sick and well again; some of them had had colts, and he had come to the conclusion that they were simply animals like elk or deer, only more useful.

”The Turk was a p.a.w.nee, one of those roving bands that build gra.s.s houses and follow the buffalo for food. They ran the herds into a _piskune_ below a bluff, over which they rushed and were killed.

Sometimes the hunters themselves were caught in the rush and trampled.

It came into the Turk's mind, as he watched the Spaniards going to hunt on horseback, that the Morning Star, to whom he made sacrifices for his return from captivity, had sent him into Zuni to learn about horses, and take them back to his people. Whatever happened to the Iron s.h.i.+rts on that journey, he had not meant to lose the horses. Even though suspected and in chains he might still do a great service to his people.

”When the Querechos were driving buffalo, some of the horses were caught up in the 'surround,' carried away with the rush of the stampeding herd, and never recovered. Others that broke away in a terrible hailstorm succeeded in getting out of the ravine where the army had taken shelter, and no one noticed that it was always at the point where the Turk was helping to herd them, that the horses escaped. Even after he was put in chains and kept under the General's eye on the way to Quivira, now and then there would be a horse, usually a mare with a colt, who slipped her stake-rope. Little gray coyotes came in the night and gnawed them. But coyotes will not gnaw a rope unless it has been well rubbed with buffalo fat,” said the Road-Runner.

”I should have thought the Spaniards would have caught him at it,” said Oliver.

”White men, when they are thinking of gold,” said the Road-Runner, ”are particularly stupid about other things. There was a man of the Wichitas, a painted Indian called Ysopete, who told them from the beginning that the Turk lied about the gold. But the Spaniards preferred to believe that the Indians were trying to keep the gold for themselves. They did not see that the Turk was losing their horses one by one; no more did they see, as they neared Quivira, that every day he called his people.

”There are many things an Indian can do and a white man not catch him at it. The Turk would sit and feed the fire at evening, now a bundle of dry brush and then a handful of wet gra.s.s, smoke and smudge, such as hunters use to signal the movements of the quarry. He would stand listening to the captains scold him, and push small stones together with his foot for a sign. He could slip in the trail and break twigs so that p.a.w.nees could read. When strange Indians were brought into camp, though he could only speak to them in the language of signs, he asked for a p.a.w.nee called Running Elk, who had been his friend before he was carried captive into Zuni Land. They had mingled their blood after the custom of friends.h.i.+p and were more than brothers to one another. And though the Iron s.h.i.+rts looked at him with more suspicion every day, he was almost happy. He smelled sweet-gra.s.s and the dust of his own country, and spoke face to face with the Morning Star.

”I do not understand about stars,” said the Road-Runner. ”It seems that some of them travel about and do not look the same from different places. In Zuni Land where there are mountains, the Turk was not always sure of his G.o.d, but in the p.a.w.nee country it is easily seen that he is the Captain of the Sky. You can lie on the ground there and lose sight of the earth altogether. Mornings the Turk would look up from his chains to see his Star, white against the rosy stain, and was comforted. It was the Star, I suppose, that brought him his friend.

”For four or five days after Running Elk discovered that the Turk was captive to the Iron s.h.i.+rts, he would lurk in the tall gra.s.s and the river growth, making smoke signals. Like a coyote he would call at night, and though the Turk heard him, he dared not answer. Finally he hit upon the idea of making songs. He would sing and n.o.body could understand him but Running Elk, who lay in the gra.s.s, and finally had courage to come into the camp in broad day, selling buffalo meat and wild plums.

”There was a bay mare with twin colts that the Turk wished him to loose from her rope and drive away, but Running Elk was afraid. Cold mornings the Indian could see the smoke of the horses' nostrils and thought that they breathed fire. But the Turk made his friend believe at last that the horse is a great gift to man, by the same means that he had made the Spaniards think him evil, by the In-knowing Thought.

”'It is as true,' said the Turk, 'that the horse is only another sort of elk, as that my wife is married again and my son died fighting the Ho-he.' All of which was exactly as it had happened, for his wife had never expected that he would come back from captivity. 'It is also true,' the Turk told him, 'that very soon I shall join my son.'

”For he was sure by this time that when the Spaniards had to give up the hope of gold, they would kill him. He told Running Elk all the care of horses as he had learned it, and where he thought those that had been lost from Coronado's band might be found. Of the Iron s.h.i.+rts, he said that they were great Medicine, and the p.a.w.nees were by all means to get one or two of them.

”By this time the Expedition had reached the country of the Wichitas, which is Quivira, and there was no gold, no metal of any sort but a copper gorget around the Chief's neck, and a few armbands. The night that Coronada bought the Chief's gorget to send to his king, as proof that he had found no gold, Running Elk heard the Turk singing. It was no song of secret meaning; it was his own song, such as a man makes to sing when he sees his death facing him.

”All that night the Turk waited in his chains for the rising of his Star. There was something about which he must talk to it. He had made a gift of the horse to his people, but there was no sacrifice to wash away all that was evil in the giving and make it wholly blessed. All night the creatures of the earth heard the Turk whisper at his praying, asking for a sacrifice.

”And when the Star flared white before the morning, a voice was in the air saying that he himself was to be the sacrifice. It was the voice of the Morning Star walking between the hills, and the Turk was happy. The doves by the water-courses heard him with the first flush of the dawn waking the Expedition with his death song. Loudly the Spaniards swore at him, but he sang on steadily till they came to take him before the General, whose custom it was to settle all complaints the first thing in the morning. The soldiers thought that since it was evident the Turk had purposely misled them about the gold and other things, he ought to die for it. The General was in a bad humor. One of his best mares with her colts had frayed her stake-rope on a stone that night and escaped.

Nevertheless, being a just man, he asked the Turk if he had anything to say. Upon which the Turk told them all that the Caciques had said, and what he himself had done, all except about the horses, and especially about the bay mare and Running Elk. About that he was silent. He kept his eyes upon the Star, where it burned white on the horizon. It was at its last wink, paling before the sun, when they killed him.”

The children drew a long breath that could hardly be distinguished from the soft whispering _whoo-hoo_ of the Burrowing Owl.

”So in spite of his in-knowing he could not save himself,” Dorcas Jane insisted, ”and his Star could not save him. If he had looked in the earth instead of the heavens he would have found gold and the Spaniards would have given him all the horses he wanted.”

”You forget,” said the Road-Runner, ”that he knew no more than the Iron s.h.i.+rts did, where the gold was to be found. There were not more than two or three in any one of the Seven Cities that ever knew. Ho-tai of Matsaki was the last of those, and his own wife let him be killed rather than betray the secret of the Holy Places.”

”Oh, if you please--” began the children.

”It is a town story,” said the Road-Runner, ”but the Condor that has his nest on El Morro, he might tell you. He was captive once in a cage at Zuni.” The Road-Runner balanced on his slender legs and c.o.c.ked his head trailwise. Any kind of inactivity bored him dreadfully. The burrowing owls were all out at the doors of their _hogans_, their heads turning with lightning swiftness from side to side; the shadows were long in the low sun. ”It is directly in the trail from the Rio Grande to Acoma, the old trail to Zuni,” said the Road-Runner, and without waiting to see whether or not the children followed him, he set off.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

XIV

<script>