Voice of the Intangible: XXIII, XXIV

Voice of the Intangible BY ALBERT R. LYMAN. Chapter XXIII — Voice of the Cave The gray ligtit of February first, filtered through a cloudy sky, revealing to the heavy-eyed Rojer outfit that they stood on the very spot of ground where Ben, returning with moccasined feet and the stampeded horses, had met his father with a lunch and a canteen of water. The warmth and sunshine of that day, with its good will and loving words, came echoing back from the chilly stillness all around, a withering contrast to the present cold morning with rank danger skulking somewhere behind the hills. The tender words of that greeting hung petrified on the desert air, and the whole scene repeated itself so vividly in Ben's mind, that he brought his big red handkerchief slyly from his pocket, and brushed it across his eyes. "I'm not quite alone yet," he mused, keeping his face turned away from Juan, "Soorowits may be dangerously near, but his blood is not on my hands, and I'm* not haunted if I am hunted." When the broad light of day followed the dim morning, they rounded the horses into a crooked ravine, for where to go had not ceased to be the leading question. The riddle of self-preservation was trying enough of itself, but saving his own life and the life of his murderous enemy as well, formed a magnificent problem, a new problem. And still the dangling, cumbersome weapons hung heavily upon him. "We'll go home," he said in answer to Juan's query ; and they started the horses up the ravine. It wouldn't do. Moving up that wash, produced a bad feeling in Ben's mind. He began to reconsider : when Soorowits found their camp deserted, he would naturally think they had started home, and he would of course try to beat them to Clay Hill, and waylay them in the pass. At least that seemed highly probable, though a dozen reasons came up to show why he would choose any one of ten other ways. With many doubts and misgivings, he reversed their direction, peeping cautiously out of the ravine at every opportune place, to see if anyone moved. No sound smote upon their ears, and no speck changed position in the blue winter mist of the distance. They dropped into North Fork at the lower trail, and followed hesitatingly over the cut-off to the short fork next to the lake. Weak and faint with hunger and exhaustion, they made camp in

418 IMPROVEMENT ERA a cove, hobbled their horses on the wire-grass, and making a small fire with as little smoke as possible, prepared the first food in twenty-four hours, having dispensed with supper in the excitement of the previous evening. Dinner over, the short day was too far spent to attempt any ride, even if they had felt disposed to try it. Ben wanted to take a walk over to the corral and the old camp-ground, and Juan, ever willing and obedient, agreed to guard camp and the horses. Young Rojer clung to his guns like a man in a dream, though he was going, not to the corral and the old camp, but to the cave near by them. He descended through a crevice to the gulchbottom, and followed a fringe of willows to the grove below the genial old cavern. In the years past, he had never climbed that hill feeling so dejected, — so utterly desolate as now. He half wished Mike had missed the track, and left him to fall peacefully asleep, easy game to the prowlers and plotters who would have found him before he awoke. Across the rocky barriers of the cave he stumbled, and sank forlornly on a rough, cold stone which jutted up from the sand. "By George, it's a weary road to travel," he said to the silence. "'Oh, weary life! Oh, weary death! Oh, spirit and heart made desolate! Oh, damned vacillating state!'" His bitterness met no response from any cold recess of the cavern. Silence, — cold, unfeeling silence made the place like any one of ten thousand of its kind in the region of Pagahrit. Had the Intangible failed? Had he come in his hour of grief and 'Like any one of ten thousand of its kind in the region of Pagahrit"

VOICE OF THE INTANGIBLE 419 anxiety to find his last anchor lost or removed? Or had he forgotten the sound of the voice and become dull of hearing? . He sank to his knees only to rise again, remove his belt and revolver and place them on a rock several feet away, for, said he to himself, "They're not in keeping" with this performance." Then he bowed on the sand, according to the precept of his rigorous experience, and poured out his troubled feelings in the same broken-hearted simplicity with which he had poured them out in childish years on his dear mother's old apron, when he stood no higher than her knee. "Oh deliver me from this wild man," he pleaded, "nor bring the blight of his blood upon me. I could ambush him if I were fierce and ignorant as he is, without conscience or heart to restrain the hot spirit of revenge. I am here in this fever of apprehension because I feared to take human life." When he had told it all, and found the soothing tears of the little Ben Rojer to mingle with the earnestness of his petition, he leaned back against the wall of the cave and lapsed into a profound study, staring absently at an opening in the limbs. Not that he found anything of interest in those naked twigs, — he stared as a man whose thoughts are engrossed with things far away. And while he gazed with the set eyes of an image, behold the cottonwood buds began to swell, the warm light of spring broke gladly in upon the cold sand around him, song-birds flew into the trees, and the scent of wild flowers drifted in from the sand-hills. The great Intangible called and sang from every cliff and grove. It spoke from the boiling spring by the bog, it whispered in the mild May wind, and called from a thousand feathered throats in the brush and willows. From such a world of peace and warmth and light, nothing seemed more fitting and natural than for Ben's own dear father to come climbing up the hill, and meet him mid-way of the cave in that old embrace, — that sacred expression of love in times past. It made no difference that Ben was tall and broad, — that he wore high boots and long spurs and a wide, black hat, it made no difference that his clothes were rough and soiled, and a stubby beard was on his face ; the fatherly arms enfolded the once tender boy, and the fatherly tear said more in silence than words could tell. When their arms were lowered they faced each other, men of the same height and stature, holding the communion of soul with soul which had grown up between man and boy. The- father was dressed very much the same as Ben had seen him in the old logmeetinghouse, his clothes well pressed, his linen spotless ; and the dear old hands may have held a book, for nothing seemed

420 IMPROVEMENT ERA wanting to enhance the dignity and majesty which had characterized the mortal man. In their communion they recalled the old log house, and some of its hymns echoed in the cavern behind them. Once, as if borne on a swell of the wind, two lines came clearly from some invisible choir ; and the alto and bass and heavenly tenor rang out distinctly, "All around and all above Sweetly whisper, 'God is love.' " All that is sweet in a strain of music wafted on the desert air, came floating peacefully into that cave, sanctifying the sand and the rocks, and even the date with its notches on the wall. "Son, I'm permitted to represent the Intangible today," began Fred Rojer, still looking, "I come to tell you a little more plainly, some things which have been said to you here before. You have read that 'there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth it understanding.' You have also read of 'the true Light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world ;.' that Light 'enlighteneth every man through the world,' if he will but use his eyes and ears as becometh a real man. I have come to tell you that every man can be guided by that light into the successful finishing of all parts in his divine program, if he will. This is what I tried by word and song and example to teach you, — it is the Light I wanted you to see, the Voice I wanted you to hear when we camped at Peavine. I couldn't speak plainly to you then as now ; and even now it is not clear like it will be when you begin to mature your labors here." Ben stood transfixed, "all trivial, fond records wiped from the table of his memory" for the reception of these precious words. "It is your nature," the father continued, "to dote on company, and when first you found yourself alone, you became desperate with a strange fear. After a while you discovered and began to court favor with the gentle essence which fills space, — the loving yet powerful influence which follows man into the desert as well as into the busy market. And then when you mingled with men, you forgot the worth of this wilderness company till you felt again the necessity of seeking after it. This Pagahrit region and Peavine and the Ridge, have made you acquainted with the greatest force of earth, which you otherwise might have been slow to discern. You have called it the Intangible, but it is the true Light which would 'enlighten all men through the world if they would -hearken to it.' I am commanded also to tell you — that Pagahrit has all but served its purpose in your training, — that you should dispose of the cattle and buy a farm." While Young Rojer looked and listened, there came into his

VOFCE OF THE INTANGIBLE 421 soul a burning desire to follow his father back to "the hazy distance," or at least to learn some particulars of that mysterious realm. And vet. when those dear lips paused, he found himself held off by that same soul-barrier, over which he could never pass without invitation in his father's lifetime. He found freedom to say only : "O do give me some pointer or assurance for this ugly shape which has been coming towards me ever since you went away." "Your hearing was good when vou interpreted the \ oice to say, 'Stay away from Clay hill.' I 'say so, too, for the present. Finish your work in peace and go home through Bull Valley. Further than this I may only tell you to keep in strict harmony with this which you call the Intangible." With this, Fred Rojer bade his son a tender farewell, and moved quickly and quietly out of the cave. Ren started up to see which direction his father would take— in fact he started up so suddenly, that he struck his hand on a stone and awakened himself from a deep sleep. The sun was low, the clouds dark, the day as chill and gloomy as before. The hills were bare, the trees naked, and no songsters in the gulch, nor musical babble from the ice-bound spring by the bog But Young Rojer did not see it through gloomy eyes. He believed his dream, though he did not call it a dream when he referred to it in conversation with himself. By virtue of all he had ever seen and proved and known of the great Intangible, he believed a direct message had come to him from the Intangible realms beyond "the hazy distance." To the date on the wall he added another notch, deep and wide, buckled on his sixshooter, shouldered his gun, and marched down the hill and across the open space in the gulch. Lon°- after the weary Mexican had been assured and .persuaded into sound sleep that night, Ben lay wide awake on his pillow looking up at the drifting clouds. The night was still but for whispers and murmurs which crept up from the open space in the half-frozen lake. In his peace and assurance he could almost hear again the words of his father in the cave. "Oh where is he?" he whispered, raising on his elbow, "1 surely saw him; I know that he is, and that I could see him again, but for this barrier of blindness which I can neither explain nor remove." A man more intellectual and less obedient than Juan, would never have been pacified by such things as Ben saw fit to td 1; and when they had made their way unmolested through bull Valley, and out into the cedars of the Ridge, the "Chili con came became more loyal and devoted than ever betore.

422 IMPROVEMENT ERA Chapter XXIV. — A Navajo Guide. One bright morning late in February, as Ben chopped a tough cottonwood limb into stove-wood lengths, Jimmy Baneehlizhen rode up on the outside of the fence, to the stakes of which he fastened his horse and climbed over. When they had greeted each other after the manner of their adopted brotherhood, the Navajo seated himself stiffly on a log, and Young Rojer swung the ax again ; it was not his turn to speak. He prized the high esteem of this big, brown brother, and resolved to hazard upon it none of the empty features of pale-faced etiquette. "Your friend — where is he?" asked Jimmy, after the conventional term of silence, and a tone of good-natured satire lurked in his oily words. "Which friend?" asked Ben, still chopping. "Big man — yellow mustache — the descendant of a snake," and Jimmy grinned his even rows of white teeth into sight, as Young Rojer recognized the description of Montana. "You say where he is," suggested Ben, fearing a thrust from some unguarded quarter. The Navajo indulged a wide smile at his white brother's expense, and began : "He rode your best horse. He rode fast. He looked back often to see if you followed." "Did you watch a man run away with my best horse? Did you laugh and forget I was your brother?" asked Young Rojer with mild reproach. "Doc tali! I heard it seven days ago," protested the other, overruling Ben's censure with a smile. The Navajo tongue is eloquent, but Navajo gesture is supereloquent, and Jimmy was a consummate master of both. If you are not acquainted with this superior race of red-men, you may form no proper idea of the dignity and charm with which this turbaned brother sat erect on the wood-pile, and depicted the furious flight of the frantic Southerner. "The snake's boy rode fast," he went on in his dove's-tongue idiom, "your best horse was wet all over ; his eyes stood out like big beads. Your best horse panted and stumbled ; the snake's boy hit him on the head with a pistol. Then the snake's boy lassoed a Navajo's good horse. He left your horse; he road fast on the Navajo horse. Afterwhile he left that horse, all wet and sick, and rode fast on another horse. Away over there he caught another horse, and then another, and went away off. I don't know where he went." Snip's beady eyes and the six-shooter for a whip, smote sharply on Ben's ears, but he smiled at the way "the wicked flee

VOICE OF THE INTANGIBLE 423 when no man pursueth ;" for he had heard how Montana left the J. B. outfit in the night time, and fled from a posse of officers, who existed only in his troubled imagination. He had also heard how the Southerner found the tracks of the Wooden-shoe boys, who made an emergency trip back from the winter-range, — and how those tracks had bred panic in the apprehensive mind, and drove the desperate man headlong from the Elk Mountain towards the distant wilds of Arizona. It was all funny enough from one point of view, but when Young Rojer recalled, "Yes, kid, I see'im sometimes," he understood something of the madness and misery which drove the criminal onward. It was the paralyzing terror and fright with which old Cain fled from the smoking blood of his brother. That awful vision rose ever and ever afresh before the haunted mind of Montana, and drove him about as "a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth." The law might lose track of him, but the Intangible, never ; it would accuse him by every breeze and every calm, — it would drive him from one mountain and one den to another, — it would pursue him with the withering question : "Where is thy brother? for his blood crieth from the ground against thee." Ben could appreciate these things the more keenly because of a vivid picture which rose to his mind, of two blood-stained men with their dead faces turned up to the cloudy morning sky. "Thank heaven it was only a dream !" he mused with an emotion which almost moved his lips, "Thank heaven for that Something which stayed my wicked intentions on the verge of a terrible deed." Jimmy sat silently on the log, studying his white brother's face. "Bad man, snake-spirit," he said, in confirmation of Ben's apparent thoughts. "You speak the truth," answered the white brother. Further conversation developed the fact, that Snip was claimed by a Navajo fifteen miles south of Rincone, and Jimmy volunteered to act as pilot to the place. So when he had accepted the invitation, and done healthy justice to a square meal, the two brothers crossed the San Juan at the ford, and proceeded southwest into the sand-hills of the Navajo Reservation. Dignity and power of soul appeal passively to the eyes and ears, but positively to the inner sense of immortal worth. While Young Rojer rode on over the sand with Jimmy Baneehlizhen, he heard little, for little was said ; and he saw only the stalwart specimen of physical manhood so common among the Navajos. Yet every succeeding mile of that trail, bore stronger testimony of limmv's bigness of mind and keenness of discernment. "Surely he hears the Intangible," thought Ben, meeting the

NAVAJO SPECIMENS OF PHYSICAL MANHOOD great black eyes squarely, "for he speaks with his look and I reel its meaning." tt LB<*-ka-yo-ich-ne claimed the animal in question, old Snip He had brought his own horse back from its lathering chase and the Navajos beyond had likewise recovered their property following Montana's trail to some distant place. Of the dozen 'or more thus imposed upon, Be-ka alone came out the better by one horse ■ but in spite of this good fortune, the old man insisted on a fancy price for Snip. J "Give my white brother his horse," said Jimmy, assuming more authority than age is wont to respect from youth, "and ? shall mention you in my song." "Now the songs of medicine men are good or bad m proportion to the prestige of the medicine man himself; and when old Be-ka yielded the point without further parley, it spoke loudly for Jimmy s mighty influence. Ben knew that many men would regard this very act as a fine example of ignorance and superstition ; and though neither the man to sing nor the man to be sung about could give a strictly intelligent reason for it the fact remained that Jimmy had magnetism. His magnetism moved men, and chorded with the voice of nature. Better still it had come as a reward of intense thought and deep feelings of soul What the difference if they could not explain it? Neither would Ben try to explain about the Intangible, though he considered his know edge of it to be the most precious of his mental treasures ; and he knew that deeply beneath the superstitious-looking surface, these men of the hills were serving, as best they coulrf the great Something which calls to all men, and brings them sooner or later to recognize its voice ; the same Power which according to Fred Rojer, "enlightens every man that cometh into the world. When old Be-ka toddled contentedly back into his hpgon Jimmy said, "Come on," motioning at the same time with his brown hand in the direction of Rincone ; and Ben simply grunted his hearty assent and followed up, leading Snip behind The ac-

VOICE OF THE INTANGIBLE 425 tion was epidemic, like that wireless telegraphy, by means of which a flock of black-birds rise simultaneously from the ground, or make a sharp turn in mid-air without leaving one behind. This strange unity of impulse in the white and the brown brother, did not escape Ben's scrutiny, and he kept along-side with the interest of a man who studies his favorite kind of riddle. A man who had known no Intangible, would have found no charm in that prosy-looking Navajo. Ben found it. While he regarded the stately brown form, and felt the personal power which drew men as a magnet draws steel, he considered the untoward environments of child-life in a hogon, and the weary, weary days in the hot sun with a flock of sheep, — and reflected that it must have been a superior intelligence indeed, to mount up unassisted from those things, to the enviable place of Jimmy Baneehlizhen. Also he felt an eager desire to know what, from the Navajo view-point, had exalted the young medicine-man above his fellows. " v _

ME^-.ii ■Bg' fiP ™ :f ; W^l RSif?^ * ^Ea |^3Bb §| ^,-."jB| ,j^^^M w~~** ■ #»* ■ 11 Wfc v la r^^ ¥3 H I m* I ji I %,_ ^^ ■ y A TYPICAL IIOGON ON THE SAN JUAN RIVER It is not unlikely, that even in Ben's narrow circle of acquaintances, there were scores of men who would think no more of him for the interest he took in the young medicine-man, nor for the visit he made to the Rincone hogons, — men who look only from the commercial view-point, and with their cold mathematical eyes, try to calculate how much over-work they can get out of a Navajo for under-pay, or for how much of his hard-earned money they can bleed him in a trade. It is not unlikely that those same men hear only a meaningless noise in the wind and the streamthat in their pursuit of the dollar, they have never looked or list-

426 IMPROVEMENT ERA cned for anything else, tangible or intangible ; but have bolted irreverently through the green wood and trampled the scented flowers, regarding their most intelligent horse only as a kind of automatic vehicle, or an article of merchandise to be bartered for gain. Their opinion had small weight with Ben Rojer. He saw in his dusky companion, the soul of a great man, born among mighty difficulties, a soul who, because of his woefully limited ways and means, had harked deep in the isolation of desert and mountain, for voices unsought and unheard by many fortunate creatures who boast of civilization. When Ben looked into those great, trusting, black eyes, he beheld the majesty of a real, living soul with the red pulse of life, — with the sparkle of climbing intelligence ; a soul whose two talents brought a much higher rate of interest than those of many a fairer man who buried his ten in the earth, or turned them into cash at a terrible discount. Why should Ben not go on? And why should he not think when he saw the Navajo shepherds, old and young, doing honor to his brown brother, "Whence hath this man all these things, seeing he never learned letters?" Why should Young Rojer not go into the hogon, and express his heartfelt pleasure at meeting the father and mother, of whom the stalwart Jimmy was so proud? Why should he not shake hands with Jimmy's sisters? whose standard of chastity took them miles out of their way to avoid seeing the immoral "son of a snake." And why should he not, under Jimmy's own smoke-flue, look his love and blessing upon the womanly young mother, who completed this wonderful freak of Navajo manhood ? "How is it," Ben asked, communing again with the big black eyes, "men come from all around and give you money to tell them what herbs they shall use? They have faith in your songs. Your words are good, but the words and songs of these toys all around are nothing. How is it?" "The wind and the river called me," he said. "When ' I watched the sheep, the Great Spirit spoke from the rolling waves ■ on the quicksand. I heard it. In the noise before the storm, and in the clouds and the rain I heard it calling." "Why didn't the other boys hear? They tended sheep." "They never listen. They talk much. They laugh at the things which please children. They can not see far away." "Perhaps I am a child, too." "Doe tah! Your eyes see. Your ears hear. We heard the same stream. The same Voice has made us brothers. We see alike ; we hear alike ; we are big brothers ; we hear the Great Spirit." "I know what it says to me; what does it say to you?"