The Delight Makers. Adolph Francis Alphonse Bandelier
of flint falling on the ashes caused the embers to glow for an instant. Both men sprang in opposite directions, like snakes darting through the grass. Each one concealed himself behind a bush. The branches rustled and cracked for a short space. The place around the fire was vacant; nothing remained but a dim streak of ruddy light.
Tyope, after repelling the assault upon him, had taken refuge behind a low juniper-bush. When the Navajo thrust a pointed arrow at his chest he had numbed the arm of the savage by a blow from his club, and then both men, like true Indians, hurriedly placed themselves under cover, whence each listened eagerly to discover the movements of his foe. Tyope could have killed the Navajo while close to him, for he had the advantage in weapons; but, although he really had no further use for the young man, he was not so angry as to take his life.
Still, under the circumstances, the greater the caution displayed the better. Intimately acquainted with the character of the Dinne Indians, and that of Nacaytzusle in particular, Tyope had gone on this errand well armed. Open hostility had resulted from the interview; it was useless to make any attempt at conciliation. Speedy return to the Rito was the only thing left. This return might become not only difficult, but dangerous, with the young Navajo concealed on the mesa. Tyope had known Nacaytzusle thoroughly from childhood.
Twenty years before, the Dinne had killed an old woman from the Tyuonyi. The murder took place near the gorge, on the mesa north of it, whither she had gone to collect the edible fruit of the piñon tree. When the corpse was discovered the scalp had been taken; and this, rather than the killing, demanded speedy revenge. A number of able-bodied men of the clan to which the grandmother belonged gathered in order to fast and make the usual sacrifices preliminary to the formation of a war party. On the last night of their fast a delegate from the hishtanyi chayani appeared in their midst, and performed the customary incantations. He painted their bodies with the black lustrous powder of iron and manganese ore which is believed to strike terror into the hearts of enemies. He selected their leader, invested him with the office, and blessed the war-fetiches. To the leader he gave a little bag of buckskin filled with the powder of the yerba del manso, which still further produces dismay among the foe. That leader was Topanashka Tihua, then in the full vigour of manhood.
On the following morning Topanashka left before daybreak with five picked men in the hideous garb of Indian braves. They penetrated cautiously the mountain labyrinth west of the Rito, concealing themselves during the day and travelling at night. On the morning of the fifth day they discovered a few huts of the Navajo. Whether or no their inmates had participated in the murder of the old woman they did not stop to inquire, but pounced upon the people who were still asleep. The results of the surprise were nine scalps and one captive. This captive was a little boy, and that boy was Nacaytzusle.
Although barely three years old, he was dragged to the Rito and had to take part in the solemn dance, during which the scalps of his parents were triumphantly waved by those who had killed them. Afterward he was adopted into the Turquoise clan, for the people of the Eagle clan refused to receive him, the privilege of so doing being theirs. Topanashka disliked the appearance of the child, and his counsels weighed heavily. Thus Nacaytzusle became an adopted son of the Queres, but it did not change his nature. His physique at once indicated foreign origin; he grew up to be taller, more raw-boned, than the youth of the House people, and his dark, wolfish look and the angular cut of his features betrayed his Dinne blood.
Like all the other youth, he received the rude education which was imparted at the estufas. He showed considerable aptitude for mastering songs and prayers, after once acquiring the language of his captors. He also watched the wizards as often as opportunity was afforded, and learned many a trick of jugglery. Tyope was struck by the youth's aptitude for such arts and practices. It revealed natural tendencies, and confirmed Tyope in the belief that the Navajos were born wizards, that their juggleries and performances, some of which are indeed startling, revealed the possession of higher powers. The Pueblos hold the Navajos in quite superstitious respect. Tyope therefore looked upon the young fellow as one who in course of time might become an invaluable assistant. He observed the boy's ways, and became intimately acquainted with all his traits, bad and good.
Nacaytzusle was a successful hunter; he was very nimble, quick, and exceedingly persevering, in everything he undertook. But he was also a natural lounger and idler, whenever he was not busy with preparations for the hunt or repairing his own scanty clothing. Work in the fields he avoided. He even showed marked contempt for the people of the Rito, because the men performed toil which he regarded as degrading. Keeping aloof from the men's society to a certain extent, he was more attracted by the women. It was especially Mitsha Koitza, Tyope's good-looking daughter, who attracted him; and he began to pay attentions to her in a manner in keeping with his wild temperament. Tyope, strange to say, was pleased to notice this. He would have been happy to have given his child to the savage, but he had no right to interfere in the matter of marriage, for this belonged to the girl's own clan to arrange. The clan was that of the Eagle, and Topanashka was its most influential member, its leading spirit. Mitsha avoided the Navajo; and when Nacaytzusle attempted to press his suit, the girl repelled his addresses in a manner that showed her aversion to him beyond any possible question.
Had Mitsha been less positive in her behaviour, it is quite likely that the character of the young captive might have changed—that he might have softened little by little, entering into the path traced by the customs of sedentary Indians. As it was, his hatred to them increased, and with it the desire to recover his independence by returning to his kindred.
About a year before, then, Nacaytzusle disappeared from the Tyuonyi. Shortly afterward Tyope was suddenly accosted by him while hunting on the mesa, and a secret intercourse began, which led to the negotiations of which we have just heard the main purport. These negotiations were now broken, and in a manner that made a return to the Rito rather dangerous. The very qualities which had fascinated Tyope—the wariness, agility, and persistency of the Navajo, his physical strength, and above all his supposed natural faculties for magic, coupled with his thorough knowledge of the country—caused Tyope to ponder upon his means of escape.
The blow which he dealt the savage was sufficient to teach him that a hand-to-hand encounter would not result favourably to him. At the same time this slight injury could not fail to exasperate the Navajo, and Tyope knew that the savage would lie in wait for him at some point which he had to pass on his return. For the present, Nacaytzusle was very likely concealed in the vicinity, in the same manner and for the same reasons as the Pueblo Indian himself; but he was sure to leave his hiding-place and make some movement toward preparing either an ambush or a sudden surprise. Tyope remained motionless for a while. He glanced across the space where the fire had been burning; but every spark was gone, and it was too dark to discern anything. He finally rose to his knees slowly and cautiously, and turned his eyes in the opposite direction. There also was an open space, and the dim starlight enabled him to discover that between his station and the nearest tree something similar to a rock or ledge protruded. He peered and listened, then turned around on his knees and flattening his body on the ground began to creep toward the tree. As soon as he reached its foot he rose to full height, leaned against the trunk, and glanced at the stars. They indicated that it was past midnight, and Tyope felt uneasy. In case he should be delayed, and reach the Rito after daylight, it might excite suspicions. Yet his only safety lay in making a wide circuit.
The dismal yelping of a prairie wolf struck his ear, and to his alarm there was at once a reply near where the interview had taken place, but slightly to the east and more toward the deep gorge in which the Rio Grande flows. He concluded that Nacaytzusle had shifted his position, by placing himself on Tyope's supposed line of retreat. But it was also manifest that the boy had not come to the meeting alone—that at least one more Navajo lurked in the vicinity. At least one, perhaps more.
Another wolf now howled in the direction of the south. A fourth one was heard farther off, and both voices united in a plaintive wail. Any one unacquainted with the remarkable