Post by ouroboros on Apr 11, 2021 5:20:50 GMT -5
As I promised I create a thread on one of the most famous Mescalero warriors called Guero Carranza (or Güero Carranza or even Guerrero Carranza). New Mexican and Texian Folklore had preserved many interesting stories on Guero. One of them was written down in the beautiful book "THE ROMANCE OF DAVIS MOUNTAINS AND BIG BEND COUNTRY: A HISTORY BY CARLYSLE GRAHAM RAHT, 1919, p. 82:
My most intimate friend among the Indians was an Apache boy, named Guero Carranza, who afterwards became a great brave among the Mescaleros, and stole horses, took scalps, and did other meritorious actions more than any other man in his tribe.
'Guero, you know, Senor, among us means a light-skinned person. This boy was the lightest colored Indian I ever saw, and maybe he prided himself on it. At any rate he was always very partial to the white people, and in his later years he became so much so as to prefer the scalp of a white man to that even of a dreaded Comanche. So he was always a great friend of mine and often told me what a pretty scalp I had. After he had left us and had gone back to his people in the Chisos Mountains, along the Tas Linga Creek, which you Americanos call Terlingua Creek, he sent for me to come and visit him. I went up in the mountains and stayed with him for some time.
'We hunted the cimarron the big horned sheep in the Grand Canyon, and the oso prieto the black bear in the
Chisos Mountains. From him I learned to strike a fire out of the dried bloomstalk of the sotol, by whirling the sharp point of the chaparro pinto in the pith of the sotol-stalk until it took fire. There, too, I learned to eat the powdered flour of the sotol. I learned how easily one could go into a bear's cave and kill the brute with a knife as it rushed out. And, Guero showed me the mescal and told me how the wise men and warriors had mescal feasts every year, when they went away to themselves in the mountains and dreamed dreams and had talks with the spirits, while under the spell of the potent plant. The mescal was always roasted some time before the fiesta and laid away in dry places to wait the time.
Something of this I one day saw. Guero and I were hunting a black-tail deer, which he had wounded with his ar-
row. We became separated and I lost the trail. So I went up on the top of a high mountain to look for him. While
up there, I saw some Indians in a glen below me, and as their number and their quietness aroused my curiosity, I carefully slipped down the mountain side, until I got to a place where I could easily watch them.
'They were sitting in a circle on the ground and were quiet and motionless. I watched them for a long time and was getting tired and about to go away, when I saw one of them rise and go to a cave at the foot of the high rock on which I was lying. In a few moments he came back, carrying a basket of willow bark, in which were a number of roundish black things which I .took to be the roasted mescals. Without a word he offered this basket in turn to each Indian, who took out one mescal, and slowly ate it, while the basket was returned to the cave. Not a word was spoken, and, after waiting a long time to see something more, I became tired and silently slipped away.
When I found Guero again I told him what I had seen. He was very much interested and told me never to tell anyone, at any time, what I had seen; that the spirits would be very angry with me and do me great harm; and that I had better go back to my home at once.
I never was much afraid of Mexican spirits, Senior, except when they came along in the shape of custom-guards, in the days when I was smuggling; but I was not acquainted much with Indian spirits, so I went back home and kept my peace for many years. But the Indians have departed this country long ago and have taken their spirits with them, so it comes that I tell you, to-night, Senior, how it happens that I know that the Apaches called the cactus mescal.
'Guero, you know, Senor, among us means a light-skinned person. This boy was the lightest colored Indian I ever saw, and maybe he prided himself on it. At any rate he was always very partial to the white people, and in his later years he became so much so as to prefer the scalp of a white man to that even of a dreaded Comanche. So he was always a great friend of mine and often told me what a pretty scalp I had. After he had left us and had gone back to his people in the Chisos Mountains, along the Tas Linga Creek, which you Americanos call Terlingua Creek, he sent for me to come and visit him. I went up in the mountains and stayed with him for some time.
'We hunted the cimarron the big horned sheep in the Grand Canyon, and the oso prieto the black bear in the
Chisos Mountains. From him I learned to strike a fire out of the dried bloomstalk of the sotol, by whirling the sharp point of the chaparro pinto in the pith of the sotol-stalk until it took fire. There, too, I learned to eat the powdered flour of the sotol. I learned how easily one could go into a bear's cave and kill the brute with a knife as it rushed out. And, Guero showed me the mescal and told me how the wise men and warriors had mescal feasts every year, when they went away to themselves in the mountains and dreamed dreams and had talks with the spirits, while under the spell of the potent plant. The mescal was always roasted some time before the fiesta and laid away in dry places to wait the time.
Something of this I one day saw. Guero and I were hunting a black-tail deer, which he had wounded with his ar-
row. We became separated and I lost the trail. So I went up on the top of a high mountain to look for him. While
up there, I saw some Indians in a glen below me, and as their number and their quietness aroused my curiosity, I carefully slipped down the mountain side, until I got to a place where I could easily watch them.
'They were sitting in a circle on the ground and were quiet and motionless. I watched them for a long time and was getting tired and about to go away, when I saw one of them rise and go to a cave at the foot of the high rock on which I was lying. In a few moments he came back, carrying a basket of willow bark, in which were a number of roundish black things which I .took to be the roasted mescals. Without a word he offered this basket in turn to each Indian, who took out one mescal, and slowly ate it, while the basket was returned to the cave. Not a word was spoken, and, after waiting a long time to see something more, I became tired and silently slipped away.
When I found Guero again I told him what I had seen. He was very much interested and told me never to tell anyone, at any time, what I had seen; that the spirits would be very angry with me and do me great harm; and that I had better go back to my home at once.
I never was much afraid of Mexican spirits, Senior, except when they came along in the shape of custom-guards, in the days when I was smuggling; but I was not acquainted much with Indian spirits, so I went back home and kept my peace for many years. But the Indians have departed this country long ago and have taken their spirits with them, so it comes that I tell you, to-night, Senior, how it happens that I know that the Apaches called the cactus mescal.