THE ATEPETL.
Many persons imagine that all Indians are alike, and that the men acquainted with the manners of one tribe knows them all. This is a serious error, which it is important to dissipate. Among the Indians, properly so called—that is to say, the aborigines of America—will be found as many differences in language, dialect, &c., as among the nations of the Old Continent, if not more. The number of dialects spoken by the Indians is infinite; the manners of one nation form a complete contrast with those of another living only a few leagues away; and any person who, after travelling for some time in the Far West, asserted that he was thoroughly acquainted with the character of the Indians and their mode of life, would be quite deceived; and more serious still, would deceive those whom he pretended to instruct.
The Indians are divided into two great families: the cultivating Indians—that is to say, those who are sedentary and attached to the soil they till; and hunter or nomadic Indians, who have a great resemblance to the Touaricks of Africa and the Tartars of Asia. The hunting Indians, known as Indios Bravos, inhabit leathern huts, easy of transport from one place to another, and only remain stationary so long as the country supplies them with the necessary forage for their horses, and the game indispensable for the men. The tame Indians, or Indios Mansos, on the other hand, are permanently established at a carefully selected spot; they have built actual houses, in which they shelter themselves and keep their winter provisions. These Indians, though they follow the customs of their fathers, recognise the Mexican laws, obey them ostensibly, are apparent Christians, though they secretly practise all the rites of their old faith; and their chief assumes the title of Alcalde. In a word, they are nearly as much civilized as the majority of the creoles.
The confederation of the Papazos was composed of several nations, combining both Indios Mansos and Indios Bravos. The latter, though harmless, and consequently nomadic, had, in the heart of unexplored forests or the gorges of the Sierra Madre, their winter villages—a collection of huts made of branches, and covered with mud, where, in the event of war, their squaws found refuge, and which served them, after an expedition, to hide the plunder they had made.
The Gilenos, whose powerful nation was composed of one hundred and eighteen distinct tribes, each of which had its private totem or standard, formed the principal branch of the Confederation of the Papazos. The Gilenos are essentially agricultural. At a period which it would be impossible to state with certainty, because the Indians do not write anything down, but trust to tradition, the Comanche nation, which proudly calls itself the "Queen of the Prairies," and asserts, perhaps justly, that it is descended in a straight line from the Chichimeques, the first conquerors of Mexico, was divided into two parts after a council held by the chiefs, for the sake of terminating a dispute that threatened to degenerate into a civil war. One half the nation continued to wander in the immense prairies of the Far West, and retained the name of Comanche. The other tribes settled on the banks of the Rio Gila, gave up hunting for agriculture, while retaining their independence, and only nominally obeying the Spaniards and Mexicans. Eventually they received the name of Gilenos, from the river on whose banks they originally settled. But, although separated, the two divisions of the Comanche nations continued to maintain friendly relations, recognised each other as springing from the same stem, and helping one another whenever circumstances demanded it.
The Gilenos piously preserved the faith of their fathers, maintained their customs; among others that of never drinking spirituous liquors: and never permitted the Mexican Government to establish among them that system of annoyance and rapine under which it mercilessly bows the other Indian Mansos. The Gileno villages are distinguished from all the others by their singular construction, which admirably displays the character of this people. We will attempt to convey an idea of them to the reader.
Stronghand had pointed out to the majordomo clusters of storied houses, suspended as it were from the flank of the hill. But these houses were only built temporarily, and in case of an attack on the village would be immediately destroyed. The hill, doubtless in consequence of one of those natural convulsions so common in these regions, was separated into two parts by a quebrada of enormous depth, which served as the bed of an impetuous torrent. On either side of this quebrada the Indians had built an enormous construction, of pyramidal shape, upwards of two hundred and fifty feet in height. These two towers contained the lodgings of the inhabitants, their granaries and storehouses. More than eight hundred beings, men, women, and children, resided in these singular buildings, which were connected together at the top by a bridge of lianas, boldly thrown across the abyss. These towers could only be entered by a ladder, which was drawn up each night; for as a last and essential precaution, the doors were sixty feet from the ground, in order to guard against surprise.
Nothing could be more curious or picturesque than the appearance offered at a distance by this strange village, with its two massive towers, having ladders for stairs, up and down which people were constantly moving. A few days previously, for greater safety, and to guard the village from a surprise, the chiefs had a trench dug, and a palisade erected, composed of stakes fastened together by lianas. The Indians had taken this precaution, to prevent their horses, on which they especially calculated for the success of the meditated expedition, being carried off by surprise, as so frequently happens on the border.
The travellers were conducted with great ceremony by the chiefs, who had come to receive them at the entrance of the village, to the square, on one side of which stood the "Ark of the First Man;" on the other, "The Great Medicine Lodge, or Council Hut." During the ride the majordomo fancied he saw among the crowd several individuals belonging to the white race, and mentioned it to his comrade.
"You are not mistaken," the latter replied; "several Mexicans reside in the village and trade with the Indians; but that must not surprise you, for you are aware that the Gilenos are mansos. Stay, here is a monk."
In fact, at this moment a stout, rubicund monk crossed the square, distributing blessings right and left, of which the Indians seemed to take but little notice.
"These worthy Frayles," the hunter continued, "lead here a rather monastic life, but in spite of the trouble they take, they cannot succeed in making proselytes. The Comanches are too attached to their religion to accept another; still, as they are too savage to be intolerant," he added, ironically, "they allow these poor monks entire liberty, on the express condition that they do not interfere with them. They have even permitted them to build a chapel, a very poor and simple edifice, in which a few passing adventurers offer up their prayers; for the inhabitants of the village never set foot in it."
"I will go to it," said Paredes.
"And you will act rightly. However, I will do this justice to the four monks who, through a love of proselytism, have confined themselves to this forgotten nook, of stating that they bear an excellent reputation, do all the good they can, and are generally beloved and respected by the population. This praise is the more valuable, because the Mexican clergy do not enjoy a great reputation for sanctity."
"But now that war is declared, what will become of these monks?"
"What do you think? They will remain peacefully, without fearing insult or annoyance. However savage the Indians may be, they are not so savage, be assured, as to make the innocent suffer for the crimes of the guilty."
"Forgive me, Stronghand, if I remark that I notice, with sorrow, in your mode of expressing yourself, a certain bitterness which seems to me unjust. The secret sympathies of an honest man ought not, in any case, to render him partial."
"I allow that I am wrong, my friend. When you know me better, you will be indulgent, I doubt not, to this bitterness which I frequently unconsciously display in my language. But here we are at the square, and other more urgent matters claim all our attention."
The plaza, which the travellers now reached, formed a parallelogram, and rose with a gentle ascent to the foot of the tower on the left of the village. Several streets opened into it, and the houses built on either side of it had an appearance of cleanliness and comfort which is but rarely found in Indian villages; and if this pueblo had been inhabited by white creoles, it would certainly have obtained the title of ciudad. In front of the council lodge stood three men, whom it was easy to recognise as the principal chiefs of the village by their hats of raccoon skin, surrounded by a gold golilla, and the silver mounted cane, like that of our beadles, which they held in their right hand. The Mexicans, among other customs they took from the Spaniards, have retained that of investing the Indian chiefs with authority. This investiture, generally performed by a delegate of the governor of the province, consists in giving them the hat and stick to which we have referred. These three chiefs, therefore, ostensibly held their power from the Mexican government, but in reality the latter had only obeyed the feudal claims of the tribes assembled at this village, by conferring the authority on these men whom their countrymen had long previously recognised as chiefs.
The procession halted before the alcaldes, or, to use the Indian term, the sachems. The latter were men of a ripe age, with a haughty and imposing mien. The eldest of them, who stood in the centre, had in his look and the expression of his features something indescribably majestic. He appeared about sixty years of age; a long white beard fell in snowy flakes on his chest; his tall form, his broad forehead, his black eyes, and his slightly aquiline nose, rendered him a very remarkable man. He did not wear the Indian costume, but that adopted by the hunters and wood rangers; a blue cotton shirt, fastened round his hips by a leather girdle, which held his arms and ammunition, wide calzoneras of deer hide buckled below the knee, and heavy boots, whose heels were armed with formidable spurs, the wheel of which was as large as a saucer.
In conclusion, the personage we have attempted to describe did not belong to the Indian race, as could be seen at the first glance; but in addition, the fine, elegant, nervous type of the pure Spanish race could be noticed in him. The majordomo could not check a start of surprise at the sight of this man, whose presence seemed to him incomprehensible at such a place and among such people. He leant over to Stronghand, and asked him, in a low voice, choked by involuntary emotion,—"Who is that man?"
"You can see," the hunter replied, drily, "he is the Alcalde Mayor of the pueblo. But silence! The persons surrounding us are surprised to see us conversing in whispers."
Paredes held his tongue, though his eyes were obstinately fixed on the man to whom the hunter had ironically given the title of Alcalde Mayor. A little to the rear of the chiefs, a warrior was holding a totem of the tribe, representing a condor, the sacred bird of the Incas. A crowd of Indians of both sexes, nearly all armed, filled the square, and pressed forward to witness a scene which was not without a certain grandeur. So soon as the procession halted, Sparrowhawk dismounted and walked up to the sachems.
"Fathers of my nation," he said, "the Great Bear of our tribe has returned, bringing with him a paleface, his friend."
"He is welcome," the three chiefs answered, unanimously, "as well as his friend, whoever he may be; so long as he pleases to remain among us he will be regarded as a brother."
The hunter then advanced, and bowed respectfully to the sachems.
"Thanks for myself and friend," he said; "the journey we have made was long, and we are worn with fatigue. May we be permitted to take a few hours' rest?"
The Indians were astonished to hear the hunter, a man of iron power, whose reputation for vigour was well established among them, speak of the fatigue he felt. But understanding that he had secret reasons for asking this, no one made a remark.
"Stronghand and his friend are at liberty to proceed to the calli prepared for them," one of the chiefs answered: "Sparrowhawk will guide them."
The two adventurers bowed respectfully, and, preceded by Sparrowhawk, passed through the crowd, which opened before them, and proceeded to the calli appointed for them. Let us state at once that this calli was the property of Stronghand, who inhabited it whenever business or accident brought him to the village. By the order of the chiefs, however, it had been prepared for the reception of two persons. So soon as the travellers reached the calli, Sparrowhawk retired, after whispering a few words in the ear of the hunter. The latter replied by a sign of assent, and then turned to the majordomo, who was already engaged in unsaddling his horse.
"You are at home, comrade," he said to him; "use this house as you think proper. I have to see a person to whom I will introduce you presently. I will, therefore, leave you for the present, but I shall not be absent long."
And without awaiting an answer, the hunter turned his horse, and started at a gallop.
"Hum!" the Mexican muttered, so soon as he was alone, "all this is not clear; did I do wrong in trusting to this man? I will be on my guard."