AT ST. MICHAEL’S MISSION

The scout-party preferred a local train from Laguna to Gallup, as that would give them more time to see the small towns they passed through, as well as the San Mateo and ZuÑi Mountains.

At the last moment, Mr. Burt decided to remain on the train with them and stop at Gallup. From there the scouts would go northwest into Arizona, and he would go south to the ZuÑi Indian Reservation.

It was the conductor on the train, who was a very sociable man, who advised the scouts to be sure and visit the CaÑon de Chelly and the White House, which is a prehistoric dwelling carved in the rock walls high above the stream. The White House is a wonderful palace ten times the size of the White House at Washington.

“You know,” said the conductor, “that you might spend a year in the Painted Desert and then come out realizing that you have only begun the sightseeing of this wonderful Navajo country. I have been through there several times, and each time I learn how much more there is to see.”

Consequently the scouts decided to follow the conductor’s advice and allow themselves more time in the Desert than they had at first planned for.

Having said good-by to the conductor, and left the train at Gallup, their next move must be to ascertain when the freight would come in with Tally and the horses. Until they arrived it would be impossible to ride to Navajo Land.

“If only you could be sure that Tally’s freight would be delayed, you might have a chance to get down into ZuÑi Land with me,” said Mr. Burt.

But in this hope Mr. Burt was to be disappointed, for the freight agent informed Mr. Gilroy that there were no night-over stops for the train between Laguna and Gallup, as there was not much transportation service to the small towns on the line, hence Tally and his horses could be looked for soon after midnight.

There being no excuse for Mr. Burt to delay his journey to the ZuÑi Reservation, he now said a reluctant farewell and rode away with a native ZuÑi guide.

At luncheon, in the El Navajo hotel that day, the Captain said: “Gilly, I’ve been talking to the manager of the hotel and he says it is a good 150 miles to the Painted Desert. That will use up a week of our time in just going there, because the little burros are so slow.”

“If there is any kind of a patented accelerator to attach to their hoofs, Verny, I’ll get them at once: just tell me where they are for sale,” replied Mr. Gilroy.

The girls laughed, but Mrs. Vernon persisted: “Gilly, I am not joking at all. I really mean what I say, you ought to find some means of conveying us to the Desert in a day or two. Now do put on your thinking cap!”

“My thinking cap, Verny, has always led others to think I was a clown that had strayed from a circus. Hence I never use it, in order to spare my pride.”

“Oh, Gilly! do talk sensibly,” cried Julie, impatiently.

“How is that possible, Jule?” demanded Mr. Vernon.

They all laughed, then Mr. Gilroy threatened: “Just for that I’ll wear the cap and have strangers wonder what sort of a menagerie I am conducting across the state.”

A talk with the manager, however, revealed a way in which a day’s time might be saved.

“I can send you on by motor to St. Michael’s Mission, where you can stay over night and put in a much pleasanter day than in prosaic Gallup. But, by taking my advice, you will deprive me of some very desirable guests,” said the smiling manager.

“You are sure we can find accommodations for so large a party after we reach St Michael’s?” asked Mrs. Vernon.

“Oh, yes! You will find ‘open house’ at any of the white folks’ ranches, as well as at the convent school, which is a massive building of stone and brick, equal to any in our large cities. In fact, Mr. Gilroy, I doubt if you will want to leave the Mission in a day’s time—there will be so much to interest you all.”

“We’ve already decided, Gilly! We say accept Mr. Walters’ advice and the autos, and let us start the first thing to-morrow morning,” declared Mrs. Vernon.

“Tally ought to be in by then, and I can explain to him about our going on in advance,” agreed Mr. Gilroy. “If only there was some way to move those burros over that 150 miles as quickly as a horse can make it—especially a group of rested horses that will have no riders.”

“Why, I can suggest a way,” ventured Mr. Walters.

“There! I knew we’d find a way out,” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, sighing.

“Sell your burros here in Gallup and use the saddle-horses from here to St. Michael’s to carry the packs. Once there, you can buy a splendid pack-horse from twenty-five to thirty dollars, see?”

“What! a decent horse as cheap as that?” exclaimed Mr. Vernon.

“Yes, because of supply and demand, you know. Be sure, after you select your pack animals, to bargain for a native guide to go with you through the Desert. Your own Indian may be a crackerjack but it takes an experienced Navajo to locate the rare water-holes for a noon-day or night camp. And water you must have, you know, both for man and beast.”

“That’s sound advice, Mr. Walters, and I’d follow it without demur, but we can’t sell the burros. We rented them,” explained Mr. Gilroy.

“Gilly, your lease says you can leave them at Gallup, if you have done with them, or go on and leave them at some other city, doesn’t it,” demanded Julie, eagerly.

“Just wait a moment, and I’ll get the agreement out of my bag,” said Mr. Gilroy, excusing himself and hurrying away from the dining-room.

After a short absence from the room Mr. Gilroy returned with the paper. “Yes, siree! That was a fine idea, Julie, considering it came from a girl scout. Now I can rid myself of three slow-going wards, by merely leaving them here in Gallup. My contract exacts that I pay the fraction of a month’s hire that I have the animals in use after the first month’s rental. That lets me off great!”

“This is the fourth week since you rented them at Trinidad,” remarked Mr. Vernon.

“Yes, and we paid that month in advance, you know, when we signed that contract. All I will now have to do will be to wire the owner I am through with the three burros and let him send for them according to agreement. Then we can buy the pack-horses of a Navajo and go on our way rejoicing.”

“If you wanted to get an early start in the morning, I can let my hostler take charge of this little matter for you—the return of the burros by freight, or whichever way the owner decides,” offered Mr. Walters.

After another short conference it was decided to act as the manager of the hotel had advised; then Mr. Gilroy sent a telegram to Trinidad to be delivered at the horse-ranch of the man who had rented him the animals.

Everything in connection with facilitating the departure of the scout-party for the Navajo Desert moved along without a hitch. Tally came in on the freight which was due just after midnight, and Mr. Gilroy met him to assist in getting the horses over to the stables.

“Boss, dey so fresh dey mek plenty kick on the car from Laguna. Mebbe I not glad it no so far to Gallop, or dey kick off side of train,” explained Tally.

“They will have a jaunt to-morrow, my boy, that’ll take out all that pep!” laughed Mr. Gilroy. Then he outlined the plan as Mr. Walters had proposed it, and which every one, but Tally, heartily approved of.

“I go ’long all ’lone wid dem fresh horses?” inquired Tally, dubiously.

“You won’t have the three burros to bother with, and the horses will have the outfit to carry,” explained Mr. Gilroy.

“Mebbe we ’rive at the Mission an’ mebbe we don’. Tally’s money goes on the gamble dat we never see Mission, so!”

“What then—what would you say?” demanded Mr. Gilroy.

“Boss, you not live wid dem hosses lek me, and now I tell you troof when I say dey run away on me sure es shootin’. One guide no good holdin’ in bunch ’a ’leben galavantin’ hosses. No!”

“Think I could help you?”

“Mebbe Boss an’ Meesr Verny do. Mebbe need good extra hand to help,” said the guide.

“All right, Tally. Mr. Vernon and I will send scouts in automobile and we will help you drive the animals to St. Michael’s Mission,” agreed Mr. Gilroy.

This quieted the Indian’s doubts and Mr. Gilroy left him to finish the last bed for his horses, and went to the hotel to bed.

The only change in the program, therefore, was that both men, instead of motoring with the scouts over the road which ran to the edge of the Navajo Land, were to ride with Tally and lead the extra horses to the Mission. Mr. Walters had secured two cars, one of which was equipped with a large rack at the back. This suggested a good idea to Julie.

“Verny, why not strap the tents and kitchen stove on that rack?”

“Yes, Captain; gasoline ‘ain’t got no feelin’s,’ but horse-flesh has. By making the motor do the work we spare our horses,” said Joan.

“Just what we’ll do!” declared the Captain. “Maybe we can pack away the utensils in Gilly’s and Verny’s places in the car.”

Thus they started: the Captain and four girls with their suit-cases in one car, three girls and as much of the camp outfit as would go comfortably into the spare room in the second car.

The road was good, the day was fine, the two automobiles roomy and comfortable, and the drivers experienced; hence the trip from Gallup to the Mission was delightful. The scouts kept up a rapidfire of calls to Mrs. Vernon to look.

“Oh, Verny! Look at that Indian riding across the mesa going like the West Wind!” called Judith,

“Captain! Do look at that little Navajo babe riding that broncho bareback! How does he manage to stick on?” shouted Joan,

“Quick! Turn around and see that cute little thing minding the flock of sheep!” gurgled Amy.

“Oh, dear! Just look at that coloring of the mesa! Was ever such wonderful tones made for us to use in Art?” sighed Betty.

Many more similar demands were made upon Mrs. Vernon’s attention until she wondered that her head was not twisted off with its continual turning.

After leaving Gallup the trail ran up to the high northern mesa, higher and higher, where the air was as exhilarating as the atmosphere at Acoma. Here the scouts saw as gorgeous flowers as those at the Enchanted Mesa, and twice they stopped the cars in order to add strange specimens to their collections at home. One of these odd blossoms was a sort of snake-plant, said the chauffeur. It had a long seedpod instead of a flower, and this pod was colored and marked like a diamond-backed rattler of the Rockies. The other queer plant was the pricklypear cactus with its great exotic blooms.

The cars resumed their running, and the trail resumed its upward grade. “I wonder where the jumping-off place might be?” laughed Julie, as they gazed up and up and still up the mesa.

The machines topped the grade after a time, and suddenly, quite as unexpectedly as the mountain had vanished and left the valley revealed before the amazed scouts the day of the trip to the Acoma pueblo, now the trail seemed to end on top of the world and there——!

“Well! is this another mirage where the lights and shadows play hide and seek in those ever-changing clouds of blue, lilac, rose and gold colors?” wondered Mrs. Vernon aloud.

“Look down there! That simply can’t be earth, but an ocean of purple and green waves constantly rolling over and over each other to break up—where?” exclaimed Julie.

“Those mountain peaks prove that this is no mirage, Verny, it is the real thing! However, it doesn’t seem natural, but heavenly,” added Amy in a whisper.

“That’s the beginning of the Painted Desert,” said the man at the wheel, then he started the automobile again.

“Why!” gasped Joan, “that isn’t a desert, at all!”

“It looks more like Egypt to me,” said Mrs. Vernon.

“Visitors do say that it reminds them more of the Holy Land than any place in the world,” explained the driver.

“It’s perfectly marvelous,” breathed Betty, who had been silent heretofore.

After several hours of further driving through this unusual country, the car came to a stop at St. Michael’s Mission. Mr. Walters had given Mrs. Vernon a splendid letter of introduction to the father in charge of the Mission, and the father, being a staunch friend of the manager’s, welcomed the guests warmly.

After the drivers had been refreshed with lunch they bid the scouts good-day and started on their homeward trip. The packs had been left at the shed of the Mission House, and then the girls, with their Captain, were shown about the quaint little town. What surprised them most was the cleanliness and perfect manners of the natives they met.

The three riders with their string of horses rode in at St. Michael’s long after sundown, without having had any mishaps or delays. Tally was sent to a low shed with the animals, and the two dusty men were escorted to a small room where they might brush off and clean up. Water was scarce in this section of the land; therefore the dry and dusty riders were warned about wasting a drop of it.

When all were convened again in the Mission’s front room, the father said he wished them to visit the Navajo School, where the boys and girls were educated. This, he explained, would interest them all, as the building would compete with any public school in the East, and the deportment of the pupils caused visiting teachers to marvel.

“The ladies may remain over-night at the school-convent, and I shall be delighted to entertain you men as my guests,” added the father, thus relieving the minds of the scouts as to a possible sleeping place that night.

The entire party went with the father to see the children and to partake of supper in the refectory, but it looked as if the sisters had been warned of the expected guests: the swarthy little Navajos were out in the playgrounds having a fine time. Some were enjoying true American games, and some were walking or reading in secluded corners of the grounds.

Vespers were attended with deep reverence by the little ones who so shortly before had been racing about like mad. Then, after the evening prayers, they were taken to supper. Meantime, the Mother Superior came and welcomed the scout-party with a wonderful smile that glowed in their hearts because it was genuine hospitality that gave it birth.

“We will now sup in the refectory, my friends,” said the Superior, leading the way to a room where the table was set for her and the visitors. And such delicious viands as the girls were given for supper that night! Julie could not help whispering to Joan, who sat next to her: “Where do they get the things to cook such wonderful goodies?”

“S-sh!” whispered Joan in reply. “Say nothing, but keep busy at it, Jule! We shall never have another chance like this.”

“Now, my friends, if you have supped, we will go out and please the children by watching them at their native games. They particularly wished to show the girl scouts of the East some new and entertaining pastimes,” said Superior, rising, and then bending her head in thanksgiving for the food. Every one in the party did likewise, for each one felt the joy of giving thanks to the Power that gave others such love as was being shown in this Navajo Mission by helping those less fortunate in education and ways of the civilized world.

“Not but that the Indians had their own civilization long before Americus Vespucius ever discovered the land!” said Julie to Mrs. Vernon.

“Yes, but it isn’t the same kind of civilization, and so it does not count with the world and its stereotyped laws of society,” whispered the Captain in reply.

They followed the Superior out to the play-ground where a circle of sconces made of pitch and a form of cactus fiber lighted the place as well as any one could expect for an outdoor entertainment. After the guests were seated upon rude benches the games began.

One of the sweet-faced convent teachers came forward and said: “John Sweetwater wishes to entertain the visitors by doing a problem play for them to guess. John, come forward.”

Thereupon a slender, graceful lad came smilingly forward and, without self-consciousness or egotism, began his story. In the words Julie wrote for the Elmertown Record it was as follows:

“White Feather was fine scout who know much of wild-wood life, but some time he little know how to apply his lesson to his wants. One day he alone in camp. Him friends go on long walk-path, but White Feather lazy and no like walk on warm day. He say he get sleep for hour when camp quiet.

“We-e-ll—White Feather find sun very hot as shine on tee pee, and it make air too hot for sleep inside. Now he ’member a cool shade under pine trees, so he move tee pee over, but now he no find how to raise tee pee once again. He work and work and now he pitch so it stand alright, but it very difrent like before. And so he make it stand: He take the nine pegs and drive ’em in ground like this:”

Then John demonstrated the trick. He took nine sticks and pushed them into the soft earth, then he took a small rope that represented the tent line, and this he wound back and forth about the sticks till he had ten straight rows formed of the line. Each row was complete and each line was part of an angle. Then he looked over at the scouts and smiled as he said: “How White Feather do?”

With a bow he retired and the sister smiled as she said: “John wants to know if the girl scouts will try and do his trick?”

The girl scouts, in duty bound, tried to accomplish the trick which had looked so simple, but they found it was not so easy as it had seemed. Finally, while the young Navajos smiled delightedly, they had to give it up. Then the young lad explained how it was done.

“We now will hear a class game which the pupils like very much,” announced the teacher, glancing at a memorandum she held. She then called upon certain pupils and they got up with alacrity to take their places as designated.

“This game, I must explain to the visitors, is called our Nature Game. Each player chooses a profession for himself, such as canoeman, forester, birdman, star-gazer, hunter, swimmer and so on. Each one who chooses his work must be well acquainted with all the lines of that choice. For instance, the fisherman must know twenty different kinds of fish and describe them; the birdman must know twenty kinds of birds; the forester, twenty kinds of trees; and so on through the game.”

The teacher next proceeded to place the players in such a manner that no one of them could whisper and help another, though the Superior explained that there was more honor in class studies with these young Indians than one finds in white schools.

“Now, friends, I begin to tell a story, and during the course of my telling I find I am at a loss for the information I need, so I have to call upon my aids to assist me. Are you all ready, aids?” The Navajos laughingly nodded and waited eagerly for the sister to begin. Then followed a lively contest between the pupils.

The young Navajos proved to be splendid entertainers in this Nature Game, as well as in other ways the teachers suggested, and the Girl Scouts spoke as they felt when it was time to retire: “We wish all our friends might have been here to-night and have enjoyed this hour as we have.”