superstitious dread these Indians entertain of violating the priestly
commands. We found it very difficult to persuade an old Zuñi guide,
who had visited the sacred salt lake, the mountain of the war gods,
and other places of interest with us (to these he had gone by special
permission of the High Priest), to accompany us to the spirit lake
and the mountain of the Kōk-kō. Our persuasive powers were almost
exhausted ere we could induce him to guide us to them, but having
consented he was willing to go even if he should be punished by death.
He was a man renowned for bravery, but he was so overcome by his
superstitious fears that his voice sank to a whisper and finally
became scarcely audible. The morning of the day on which we reached
this place, the old man, who had been riding by my side, ahead of the
rest of the party, suddenly halted and said in a half-angry voice,
"Why do I go ahead? I am not the chief of this party. Those who belong
at the head must go to the head." And he would not move until Mr.
Stevenson and I went in advance. By this change he sought to transfer
the responsibility to us. Finally he rode up to us and said in a
whisper, "We will camp here." The whole expression of the old man's
face was that of ghastly terror. I was much annoyed, for I thought
that, at the eleventh hour, his fear had overcome his desire to
gratify us. Just then a Mexican lad on horseback approached; we were
all mounted. I asked the lad, "Is there a lake near by?" He replied,
"Yes, a half a mile off." The old Indian said, speaking in a whisper,
"And you have seen it?" "Yes." "And you were not afraid?" "No; why
afraid?" "And you looked into the waters and you did not die!" With a
look of bewilderment the youth rode off. I signaled to the old man to
accompany us to the lake. "No, no; I would only die, and you must not
go or you will die." "No," said I, "we will not die if our hearts are
good, and if you will not go it is because your heart is not good and
you are afraid."