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Zaproburno Yollanica Directory 05
Page 05
The two women and their sons lived together. To amuse the children the mothers made them a wheel, but cautioned them never to roll it toward the north. Whenever he heard the sound of water, Kobadjischini, to seek its source, would leap straight into any torrent, and his mother hoped that the toy would deter him from falling into such danger. One day the two boys became curious to know what was in the north, so they rolled the wheel in that direction. It went straight on for a long time, then came to a ladder leading up the steep side of a rock, up which it rolled. The boys stopped in astonishment. The wheel rolled on down into a cave, where lived Yiye, a monster Owl, who ate human flesh. A young girl, Yiye's slave, was sent up to see who was outside. "Two young, fine-looking boys," she reported. Yiye sent her to tell them to come into the cave, but this they refused to do, even when he urged them himself, saying, "No! Give us our wheel!" But at last the boys yielded to Yiye's persuasions and proceeded up the ladder and down into the cave. Owl built a fire under a huge pot of water, seized the boys, and put them into it. He boiled them a long time, then lifted them out with a stick. They stood up and said, "Why do you not give us our wheel and let us go home?" Then Yiye became angry and thrust them into a great heap of hot ashes and built a fresh fire over them. After a long time he took them out, but they were still unharmed, and only asked, "Why do you not give us our wheel?" At this Owl became very angry and, seizing them, cut them into small pieces, put them into the pot, and boiled them again; but when he took them out they were alive and whole. Owl said not a word, but gave them their wheel and motioned them to go. All this time the mothers of the two boys knew from the Sun where they were, and by a burning stick could tell when their children were in danger; for if they were safe the flame burned high, but if in danger it burned low.
The Apache-Mohave and the Tontos were placed on a reservation on the Rio Verde; the Coyoteros were taken to the White Mountain district near Fort Apache; the Pinalenos and parts of other bands surrendered and were established at San Carlos; in all, approximately three thousand Apache had been brought under control. About one thousand hostiles yet remained in the mountains, but by 1874 they had become so nearly subjugated as to make it seem advisable to transfer the Arizona reservations from the War Department to the Office of Indian Affairs, which was done. The policy of the Indian Office from the beginning had been to concentrate the various bands upon one reservation at San Carlos. Disaffection arose between different bands until this became a despicable place to nearly all, while continued adherence to the removal policy drove the Chiricahua from their southern Arizona reservation to seek refuge with the Ojo Caliente Apache in southwestern New Mexico, in 1876, although they had been living in comparative peace for four years. In 1877 these Chiricahua and the Ojo Caliente band were forcibly removed to San Carlos, but while en route Victorio and a party of forty warriors made their escape. In September of the same year three hundred more fled from San Carlos and settler after settler was murdered. In February, 1878, Victorio and his notorious band surrendered at Ojo Caliente, but gave notice that they would die fighting before submitting to removal to San Carlos. The major portion of the three hundred Chiricahua who had left San Carlos surrendered at Fort Wingate, New Mexico, shortly before. All these were taken to the Mescalero reservation in New Mexico.
I shall never forget the circumstance of observing a pair of yellow-bellied woodpeckers,--the most rare and secluded, and, next to the red-headed, the most beautiful species found in our woods,--breeding in an old, truncated beech in the Beaverkill Mountains, an off-shoot of the Catskills. We had been travelling, three of us, all day in search of a trout lake, which lay far in among the mountains, had twice lost our course in the trackless forest, and, weary and hungry, had sat down to rest upon a decayed log. The chattering of the young, and the passing to and fro of the parent birds, soon arrested my attention. The entrance to the nest was on the east side of the tree, about twenty-five feet from the ground. At intervals of scarcely a minute, the old birds, one after another, would light upon the edge of the hole with a grub or worm in their beaks; then each in turn would make a bow or two, cast an eye quickly around, and by a single movement place itself in the neck of the passage. Here it would pause a moment, as if to determine in which expectant mouth to place the morsel, and then disappear within. In about half a minute, during which time the chattering of the young gradually subsided, the bird would again emerge, but this time bearing in its beak the ordure of one of the helpless family. Flying away very slowly with head lowered and extended, as if anxious to hold the offensive object as far from its plumage as possible, the bird dropped the unsavory morsel in the course of a few yards, and, alighting on a tree, wiped its bill on the bark and moss. This seemed to be the order all day,--carrying in and carrying out. I watched the birds for an hour, while my companions were taking their turn in exploring the lay of the land around us, and noted no variation in the programme. It would be curious to know if the young are fed and waited upon in regular order, and how, amid the darkness and the crowded state of the apartment, the matter is so neatly managed. But ornithologists are all silent upon the subject.
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