greatest influence among the people. This produced a feeling of
unpleasantness not to be overcome, and I resolved to emigrate to
California, overland, by way of Arizona. I longed for the
companionship of people of my own race and wanted to see more of the
world. There was an opportunity to go to a mining town of northern
Arizona, with several ox-teams which were freighting provisions. The
freighter, Don Juan Mestal, assured me that he was very glad to have
the pleasure and comfort of my company and would not listen to an
offer of remuneration on my part. He said there was the choice of two
routes; one road passed through the country of the Navajo Indians and
the other road led past Zuhl, the isolated Pueblo village. Don Juan
said that he would not go by way of Zuni, if he could avoid it, as he
was prejudiced against this tribe. Not that they were hostile or
dangerous, but he had acquired a positive aversion, amounting to
abhorrence, for those peaceful people when he, as a boy, accompanied
his father on a trading expedition there. At that time he witnessed
the revolting execution of a score of Navajos who had been
apprehended as spies by the Zunis. These unfortunates came to their
village as visiting guests, it being in the time of the harvest of
maize, when these Indians celebrate their great Thanksgiving feast. A
young Navajo chief, who led the visiting party, aroused the ire of
the old medicine chief of the tribe, who had lately added a new
attraction to his household, beshrewing himself with another lovely
young squaw. It was said that the enamored damsel had made
preparations to elope with the gallant Navajo chief, but was betrayed
by the telltale barking of the dogs, great numbers of which infest
all Indian villages. The old doctor accused the Navajos of espionage
and had them taken by surprise and imprisoned in an underground foul
den. Then met the chiefs of the tribe in their estufa, or secret
meeting place, to pass judgment on the culprits. The old medicine