The Broncho Rider Boys Along the Border Part 16

They were heading for the queer Zuni village right now, and before long he expected to get busy with his camera, taking all sorts of entertaining snapshots that later on must astonish and delight hosts of friends in the faraway East, after he returned home.

That they were now drawing very close to the Zuni settlement all of them knew to a certainty. Plenty of signs pointed that way-they could hear loud voices, and the laughter of children, just as though they might be approaching a village of white people; for after all, children do not differ very much, whether they be white, black, copper-colored or yellow; it is only when they grow older and copy the characteristics of their parents that they change, and follow the groove of their species.

"I can see the cliff, all right!" announced Billie, in some little excitement, as he stretched his fat neck to a dangerous degree, "rubbering," as he himself described it.

"Yes," said Adrian, "that's the top row of homes we see yonder; and if things are anything like I expect, from what I've heard we'll find a dozen other rows of holes in the rock most all the way down the cliff."

"But not near the bottom," corrected Donald; "because, you see, the only object that ever made these people, away back many hundreds of years ago, build their homes in this way was to feel free from their enemies, whoever they might be; and so far as I've been able to find out, n.o.body really knows who they were afraid of."

"P'raps the Injuns got on the warpath every little while; and made a raid, looking for scalps and plunder?" suggested Billie, quickly.

"You might think so," Adrian told him; "but it's been agreed on that when these same old cliff-dwellers held out in these valleys, making their homes high up in the air, and digging them out of the solid rock in certain places where it was easy to do the job, why, there were no Indians. That was long before the time of the red man, as we know him in history. So there you are, Billie."

"All of which is true," added Donald; "so think it over, Billie, and some time let us know what sort of an explanation you get to. Look, there are several more lines of holes in the rock, and you can see the many crazy ladders that lead up and down, like the lines of a puzzle."

"Sure thing," declared Billie, excitedly, "and there are some people climbing and coming down right along. Hurry up there, Jupiter, and quit your poking. I'm all of a quiver to get right in, and see these sights at close range. Oh! mebbe it ain't going to be in clover for me, with this jolly little kodak of mine. Won't I be able to snap off some of the funniest pictures you ever saw, with fat squaws and papooses ahanging to them ladders in all sorts of ridiculous positions? Well, let me tell you before we go any further, boys, I'm real glad I came."

"In spite of the scare you had when you fell into that rattlesnake den, eh, Billie?" ventured Adrian.

"And no matter if you did get lost on the desert, while a nasty sand storm was raging?" added Donald, mischievously.

"With the wolves keeping you awake all night in the bargain; can you say that, remembering all these things that have happened, Billie?" Adrian concluded.

The fat boy placed one hand in the region of his heart.

"Really and truly I'm glad right now," he went on, "and I'll be a dozen times more so before long, I'm thinking. All the things you mention belong to past history; and what's the use crying over spilt milk?"

"Hurrah for you, Billie!" cried Adrian.

"Remember what we used to write in our copybooks at school when we were kids," the fat boy went on, seriously; "mebbe I ain't got the words just right, but the sentiment is the same: 'The wheel of the mill ain't ever agoing to run again, with the water that is past.' Them's my sentiments every time, boys."

"Bully for Willie Winkle!" laughed Donald; "he's better to have along than any school teacher that ever lived. But here we are, boys; and now look your fill, both of you, because you'll see sights such as few people ever get a chance to set eyes on, let me tell you."

And they did.

They had now turned a bend in the trail, so that the whole Zuni village was before them. It was a bustling scene, too, for there were scores of persons moving all about on the ground, among the rocks, and in the central plaza, where doubtless the ceremonial dances were wont to take place from time to time, according to the customs of these strange people.

The Zunis are very clannish, and never marry outside of their own people. They believe themselves to be far and above the common herd, and can look back to a past that antedates the history of all other tribes.

Some of those wise men who have tried to study out their traditions a.s.sociate them with the Aztecs or sun wors.h.i.+ppers of Mexico; but they claim to go back centuries beyond the time of those really modern people.

Their dress is as picturesque as their mode of living, so vastly different from that of any Indian tribe in America. They are accustomed to meeting whites, and in reality shrewdly welcome strangers to visit their village, because they love to s.h.i.+ne in the lime-light; and most of them are natural-born actors. Besides, they make a great deal of money in various ways, such as posing for pictures, selling quaintly woven baskets, pottery made after their tribal custom, and all sorts of souvenirs such as tourists with fat pocketbooks love to pick up, to prove that they have journeyed to the land of the "original people,"

known as the Zunis.

"Why, we ain't the only strangers here, after all!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Billie, shortly, as he and his two chums came closer to the scene. "There's a bunch of palefaces over yonder atalking to that old squaw, who looks like she might be a gypsy queen, or some sort of fortune-teller."

"Perhaps she is," laughed Adrian, "because these people have gotten so used to having the whites visit them, especially at this time of year, that they're on to all sorts of schemes to coax the nimble dollar out of the pockets of the pilgrims. Am I right there, Pard Donald?"

"You're cleaving close to the line, let me tell you, Chum Adrian; and you'll find that money talks even among the Zuni and the Hopi Indians, just as it does, they say, over in Switzerland or Italy, where every blessed person, young and old, has the itching palm as they call it, so you can't ask a civil question without fis.h.i.+ng around in your pocket for a tip. But let's forget all that, now, and mingle with the crowd."

"First of all," suggested Adrian, wisely, "don't you think we'd better be making a camp for ourselves? The ponies will have to have water and gra.s.s; and as we've got a tent, it ought to be stuck up somewhere to show where the Broncho Rider Boys have their headquarters."

"Right you are, Ad; and here comes the very party we had ought to speak to, unless I'm mistaken. Now, it happened that Corse Tibbals was able to do these people a mighty good turn, once upon a time; and he told me if I mentioned the fact that I was a friend of his, it might make things pleasant for us; which I expect to spring on this old fellow who's got our number, and means to find out who we are, and what we want here."

The man who approached them was evidently one of more or less authority among the Zunis; for his manner, as well as a difference in his style of dress, told that he must exercise the authority of a chief.

Billie had been wondering what sort of Choctaw or Greek he was about to hear the Zuni use in addressing them, and how Donald could understand him. Billie, having once taken a few lessons in the sign language, had even been trying to brush up his memory, under the faint impression that he might have to join in the conversation, and a.s.sist his chums, when he heard the other ask in very good English who they were, and why they had journeyed hither.

Of course it was only a sort of ceremonious way of introducing himself, because all the palefaces who came to the Zuni country had only one object in view, which could be set down as an overwhelming curiosity to see for themselves these wonderful things of which they had heard or read so much.

Donald gave the name of each of his chums, as well as his own. He told how they had been down to the copper mines on business; and finding that they would be in time to witness the famous rattlesnake dance, which once a year the Zunis indulge in, they had crossed the burning desert in a sand storm to visit their brothers.

And when he mentioned that Corse Tibbals was a very good friend of his, and really in the employ of his father, the sober face of the old Zuni actually lighted up with what seemed to be pleasure.

He and Donald chatted for some little time in an animated way, after which the old chief took himself off, and the boy returned to his friends, a satisfied look on his face, that told them things were "panning out" well.

CHAPTER XIX.

WHERE LADDERS WERE STAIRS.

"It's all right, fellows," said Donald, as he joined his chums; "the chief remembers our foreman at the mine, and is glad to have us here.

Fact is, he gave me to understand that he'd look on us as his special guests during the ceremonies connected with the yearly dance to the Little Father, as they call the rattlesnake, under the impression that it was connected with the religion of their forefathers, away back thousands of years."

"Huh!" grunted the unbelieving Billie, "take my word for it now, that's the same kind of talk he gives every new batch of strangers that shows up here. You see, I'm something of a reader of character, though I've never let on to you two fellows about it before; and if ever I saw a shrewd look on the face of a human being it was written large on his phiz."

Adrian chuckled.

Possibly that was his own private opinion, for he believed that the annual gathering of numerous whites, deeply interested in the religious ceremonies, and dance of the Zunis, had by degrees come to make it somewhat of a commercial affair. They found so many chances to "bleed"

the good-natured travelers that the spirit was now rife in the community, just as you find it in every gypsy camp.

After that they wandered around for quite some time, "visiting," Billie called it. They talked with the natives, finding that the vast majority could not only understand English, but speak it fairly well in the bargain.

Donald led his comrades up a crazy ladder to the lower strata of rock houses, as the holes in the face of the high cliff were called.

They found that they were singularly lacking in what white boys were accustomed to look upon as actual necessities in their homes. The sleeping places, instead of being comfortable beds, consisted for the most part of some skins thrown down in a corner.

"But then," ruminated Billie, who was given to speculating on occasion, "I reckon now that an up-to-date bra.s.s bed would kinder look queer and out of place in this antique hole in the wall. The beds and other furniture are about in keeping with the people and the habitation, ain't that so Adrian?"

"Well," observed the one addressed, "what else would you expect to find in a living place that had been used for hundreds and hundreds of years by these people, and those who went before them? But you admit that it's all mighty interesting, don't you, Billie?"

"That's what it is, Adrian," heartily replied the other, "and from the way these other visitors are prowling around every-which-way, seems to me they think just the same as we do. Several look like cowboys; you don't happen to know any of the same, I suppose, Donald?"

"No," Donald answered, after taking a good survey of the parties in question; "never ran across them before; but that isn't queer, when you come to think how many ranches there are in this Southwest country; and how seldom punchers go outside of the limits of their own range."

"Then there's a bunch of real tourists," continued Billie; "father, mother and two half-grown children, people of means, they must be, for they look like it; and they've got three guides along with 'em too, so's not to get lost on the desert, like some sillies have a habit of doing.