Little Myrtle grew brighter day by day. She even
grew merry and
developed a fine sense of humor, showing new traits
in her hitherto
undeveloped character. The girl never mentioned her
injury nor
admitted that she suffered any pain, even when
directly questioned.
Indeed she was not uncomfortable during that
splendid automobile ride
over mountain and plain into the paradise of the
glowing West. Never
before in her life had Myrtle enjoyed an outing,
except for an hour or
two in a city park; never before had she known a
friend to care for
her and sympathize honestly with her griefs.
Therefore this experience
was so exquisitely delightful that her responsive
heart nearly burst
with gratitude. Pretty thoughts came to her that she
had never had
before; her luxurious surroundings led her to
acquire dainty ways and
a composed and self-poised demeanor.
"Our rosebud is unfolding, petal by petal, and
beginning to bloom
gloriously," said Patsy to sympathetic Uncle John.
"Could anyone be
more sweet or lovely?"
Perhaps almost any girl, situated as Myrtle Dean
was, would have
blossomed under similar influences. Certain it was
that Uncle John
came to have a tender affection for the poor child,
while the Major's
big heart had warmed from the first toward the
injured girl. Beth and
Patsy were devoted to their new friend and even
Mumbles was never so
happy as when Myrtle would hold and caress him.
Naturally the former
waif responded freely to all this wealth of
affection and strove to be
companionable and cheery, that they might forget as
much as possible
her physical helplessness.
Mumbles was not the least important member of the
party, but proved
a constant source of amusement to all. In the novel
domains they now
traversed the small dog's excitable nature led him
to investigate
everything that seemed suspicious, but he was so
cowardly, in spite of
this, that once when Patsy let him down to chase a
gopher or prairie
dog--they were not sure which--the animal turned at
bay and sent
Mumbles retreating with his stubby tail between his
legs. His
comradeship for Wampus surprised them all. The
Canadian would talk
seriously to the dog and tell it long stories as if
the creature could
understand every word--which perhaps he did. Mumbles
would sit up
between the driver and Patsy and listen attentively,
which encouraged
Wampus to talk until Patsy in self-defense turned
and tossed the fuzzy
animal in to Myrtle, who was always glad to receive
him.
But Patsy did not always sit on the front seat. That
honor was divided
among them all, by turns, except the Major, who did
not care for the
place. Yet I think Patsy rode there oftener than
anyone else, and it
came to be considered her special privilege because
she had first
claimed it.
The Major, after the incident at Gallup, did not
scorn Wampus so
openly as before; but he still reserved a suspicion
that the fellow
was at heart a coward and a blusterer. The
chauffeur's sole demerit in
the eyes of the others was his tremendous egotism.
The proud remark:
"I am Wampus!" was constantly on his lips and he had
wonderful tales
to tell to all who would listen of his past
experiences, in every one
of which he unblushingly figured as the hero. But he
really handled
the big touring car in an admirable manner, and when
one afternoon
a tire was punctured by a cactus spine by the
roadside--their first
accident--they could not fail to admire the
dexterous manner in which
he changed the tube for a new one.
From Gallup they took a wagon road to Fort Defiance,
in the Navajo
Indian reservation; but the Navajos proved
uninteresting people, not
even occupying themselves in weaving the famous
Navajo blankets, which
are now mostly made in Philadelphia. Even Patsy, who
had longed to
"see the Indians in their native haunts," was
disgusted by their filth
and laziness, and the party expected no better
results when they came
to the adjoining Moki reservation. Here, however,
they were happily
disappointed, for they arrived at the pueblo of
Oraibi, one of
the prettiest villages on the mesa, on the eve of
one of their
characteristic snake dances, and decided to remain
over night and
see the performance. Now I am not sure but the
"Snake Dance" was so
opportune because Uncle John had a private interview
with the native
chieftain, at which the head Snake Priest and the
head Antelope Priest
of the tribe were present. These Indians spoke
excellent English and
the chief loved the white man's money, so a ceremony
that has been
held during the month of August for many
centuries--long before the
Spanish conquistadors found this interesting
tribe--was found to be on
tap for that very evening. The girls were
tremendously excited at the
prospect and Wampus was ordered to prepare camp for
the night--the
first they had spent in their automobile and away
from a hotel. Not
only was the interior of the roomy limousine
converted into sleeping
quarters for the three girls, but a tent was spread,
one side fastened
to the car while the other was staked to the ground.
Three wire
folding cots came from some hidden place beneath the
false bottom of
the car, with bedding enough to supply them, and
these were for the
use of the men in the tent. The two "bedrooms"
having been thus
prepared, Wampus lighted the tiny gasoline stove,
over which Patsy and
Beth enthusiastically cooked the supper. Beth wanted
to "Newburg" the
tinned lobster, and succeeded in creaming it very
nicely. They had
potato chips, coffee and toasted Holland rusks, as
well, and all
thoroughly enjoyed the improvised meal.
Their camp had been pitched just at the outskirts of
the Indian
village, but the snake dance was to take place in a
rocky glen some
distance away from the pueblo and so Uncle John
instructed Wampus to
remain and guard their outfit, as the Moki are
notorious thieves. They
left the lean little chauffeur perched upon the
driver's seat, smoking
one of his "stogie" cigars and with Mumbles sitting
gravely beside
him.
Myrtle hobbled on her crutches between Beth and
Patsy, who carried
little tin lanterns made with lamp chimneys that had
candles inside
them. They first visited the chief, who announced
that the ceremonies
were about to begin. At a word from this imposing
leader a big Indian
caught up Myrtle and easily carried her on his
shoulder, as if she
were light as a feather, leading the way to the
rocky amphitheatre.
Here were assembled all the inhabitants of the
village, forming a wide
circle around the performers. The snakes were in a
pit dug in the
center of the space, over which a few branches had
been placed. This
is called the "kisi."
These unique and horrifying snake dances of the Moki
have been
described so often that I need not speak of this
performance in
detail. Before it was half over the girls wished
they were back in
their automobile; but the Major whispered that for
them to leave would
cause great offense to the Indians and might result
in trouble. The
dance is supposedly a religious one, in honor of the
Rain God, and at
first the snakes were not used, but as the dancers
became wrought up
and excited by their antics one by one they reached
within the kisi
and drew out a snake, allowing the reptiles to coil
around their
almost naked bodies and handling them with seeming
impunity. A few
were harmless species, as bull snakes and arrow
snakes; but mostly the
Moki used rattlesnakes, which are native to the mesa
and its rocky
cliffs. Some travelers have claimed that the fangs
of the rattlers are
secretly withdrawn before the creatures are handled,
but this has been
proved to be untrue. The most accepted theory is
that the snakes are
never permitted to coil, and cannot strike unless
coiled, while the
weird chanting and graceful undulating motions of
the dancers in some
manner "charms" or intoxicates the serpents, which
are not aroused to
antagonism. Occasionally, however, one of the Moki
priests is bitten,
in which case nothing is done to aid him and he is
permitted to die,
it being considered a judgment of the Rain God for
some sin he has
committed.
The barbaric rites seemed more picturesque, as well
as more revolting,
in that they took place by the flickering light of
torches and
bonfires in a rock strewn plain usually claimed by
nature. When the
dancers were more frenzied they held the squirming
serpents in their
mouths by the middle and allowed them to coil around
their necks,
dancing wildly the while. The whole affair was so
nauseating and
offensive that as soon as it was possible the
visitors withdrew and
retired to their "camp." It was now almost midnight,
but the path was
lighted by the little lanterns they carried.
As they approached the automobile Uncle John was
disturbed not to see
Wampus at his post. A light showed from the front of
the car, but the
chauffeur seemed to be missing. Coming nearer,
however, they soon
were greeted by a joyous barking from Mumbles and
discovered Wampus
squatting upon the ground, puffing at the small end
of the cigar and
seeming quite composed and tranquil.
"What are you doing there?" demanded the Major,
raising his lantern
the better to light the scene.
"I play jailer," grunted Wampus, without moving.
"Him want to steal;
Mumble he make bark noise; for me, I steal too--I
steal Injun."
A dusky form, prone upon the ground, began to squirm
under Wampus, who
was then discovered to be sitting upon a big Indian
and holding him
prisoner. The chauffeur, partly an Indian himself,
knew well how to
manage his captive and quieted the fellow by
squeezing his throat with
his broad stubby fingers.
"How long have you had him there?" inquired Uncle
John, looking at the
discomfited "brave" curiously.
"About an hour," was the reply.
"Let him go, then. We have no prison handy, and the
man has perhaps
been punished enough."
"I have wait to ask permission to kill him," said
Wampus solemnly. "He
know English talk, an' I have told him he is to die.
I have describe,
sir, several torture we make on Injun who steal,
which make him think
he die several time. So he is now prepare for the
worst."
The Indiam squirmed again, and with a sigh Wampus
arose and set him
free.
"See," he said; "you are save only by mercy of Great
White Chief. You
ver' lucky Injun. But Great White Chief will leave
only one eye here
when he go away. If you try to steal again the eye
will see, an' then
the torture I have describe will be yours. I am
Wampus. I have spoke."
The Indian listened intently and then slunk away
into the darkness
without reply. The night had no further event and in
spite of their
unusual experiences all slept excellently and awoke
in the morning
refreshed and ready for new adventures.
