Witch Winnie: The Story of a "King's Daughter"

by Elizabeth W. Champney

The Catholic priest shook his head sadly. "Our converts have always remained half pagan," he said; "the early missionaries were content to engraft as much Christianity as they could on the old customs, thinking that the better faith would gradually supplant the old, but the old rites and ceremonies have remained. Still we must hesitate to say that the Fathers did wrong, since it was the only way to win the savages to the holy faith."

The priest strolled away to visit the church and to find a Mexican brother who was to celebrate Mass on the next day. The church was a ruinous building which stood apart from the others. The army officer told of the siege which it sustained during the Mexican War, and pointed to the indentations made in its walls by cannon-balls.

The situation was such a strange one that Jim slept but little. All night long he could hear the dull beat of the tom-toms in the estufa, and as soon as the first streak of dawn illumined the sky the pueblo was awake and all excitement. Indians from neighboring towns poured in, some on foot, and others mounted on ponies or donkeys.

In the plaza stood a great pole resembling a flag-staff, but instead of a banner there dangled from the top a live sheep and a basket of bread and grain, with a garland of fruits and vegetables. The church bell was clanging for Mass, and Jim followed the others. An old Mexican priest was the celebrant, and a few young Indians in red cotton petticoats and coarse lace overskirts waited upon him awkwardly as altar-boys. When the Host was elevated, an Indian at the door beat the tom-tom, and four musket-shots were fired. The priest then marched down the centre of the church, followed by the altar-boys, one of whom bore a hideous painting, which Mr. Sanchez assured them was painted in Spain by the great Murillo, and might be had, through him, for a trifling sum. The congregation joined in the procession and followed to the race-track, where games, races, and dances were participated in by fifty young men of Taos against fifty from other pueblos. The sports were witnessed by fully two thousand spectators, who swarmed along the terraces, and formed a packed mass of men, women, children, horses, and donkeys around the race-track. There was a group of visitors standing near our travelers, who regarded the races with intense interest. It consisted of an old man dressed in white linen blouse and trousers, with a red handkerchief knotted about his gray locks, an obese and not over cleanly old lady in full Indian toggery, and a young girl in a pink calico dress, with a black shawl over her head and shoulders. They watched one of the runners with the most intense excitement, and when he came off victor in several of the contests, their enthusiasm knew no bounds. "That old man is the Governor of the pueblo of ——," said Mr. Sanchez. "It is his son who has just stepped out to lead the corn-dance. The daughter, little Rosaria, is pretty, is she not?" He approached her as he spoke, with easy assurance, and taking her by the chin, made some remarks in the Pueblo language intended to be complimentary; but the girl twisted herself from his grasp with hot indignation; and Sanchez returned, grumbling that since she had been to the Ramona School at Santa Fé she was too much of a lady to speak to anyone. Jim was standing beside her; and sure, from her manner, that she understood English, he asked her to explain the corn-dance to him. She did so, very kindly, and the hunt-dance which followed, when the painted clowns brought out grotesque clay images, and after adoring them fired at them, and shattered them in fragments, the crowd scrambling for the pieces. The young man who had been pointed out as the Governor's son secured a piece, and brought it to the girl in triumph. "That is the ear of a wolf," she said. "It means that he will have success in the south; we, who have been taught better, do not believe these old charms any more."

The last thing on the programme was the climbing of the pole for the sheep, which was finally won by a young brave of Taos.

There was racing on ponies afterward by young Indians and Mexicans, but this was informal, and not included in the rites of the day. The young girl looked at the races enviously. "My brother ought to win there," she said, "for we had the swiftest ponies of any of the Pueblos, and ought to have them, for our pasture lands are the best, but we have sold nearly all our live-stock, and the pastures are no longer of any use to us."

Mr. Armstrong overheard this remark, and asked Rosaria if her people would be willing to rent their lands. She conferred with her father in the Pueblo language, and Mr. Sanchez immediately joined in the conversation, talking volubly to the old man, and translating to Mr. Armstrong. "He says you are welcome to return to his pueblo with him," explained Mr. Sanchez, "and he will call a council of his townspeople to deliberate on your proposition."

There was more conversation, and it was decided to accept the Governor's invitation. Mr. Armstrong engaging Mr. Sanchez to go with them and help him in the transaction. This seemed to him the only thing which he could do, since he did not understand the language, and the Governor seemed to place confidence in the trader. The party set out the next morning for San ——, Mr. Armstrong and Jim in Mr. Sanchez's wagon, and the Governor and his children following on diminutive donkeys. Several days elapsed before the bargain could be made. The Indians were very suspicious of being entrapped into some fraud, and it needed all of Mr. Sanchez's eloquence to persuade them that the arrangement would be to their advantage. Mr. Armstrong had told Mr. Sanchez that he was willing to pay fifteen hundred dollars for the rental of the land for three years, and that he (Sanchez) might deduct his fee for services from this sum. "Then if I can persuade them to let you have the land for twelve hundred," asked Mr. Sanchez, "I may claim three hundred for my assistance in the matter?"

"That is a pretty round fee," replied Mr. Armstrong, "but it does not matter to me who has the money. The land is worth fifteen hundred dollars to me, and if you can persuade the Indians to take less, so much the better for you."

Jim was much interested in the negotiations. He sat beside Mr. Armstrong in the council-chamber, trying to make out from the expressive gestures what it was that the Indians were saying, and sometimes it seemed to him that Mr. Sanchez did not translate correctly. At such times he went out to where Rosaria stood by the open door listening, with other children. She translated for him the treaty as Mr. Sanchez read it, and he was astonished to find that it offered the Indians only three hundred dollars as rent for their land, the wily Sanchez having reserved twelve hundred as his own share.