The Appeal., 1908-10-31
A PATRIARCH OF PUEBLOS
Patrcio Jron, One OF tine Oldest Members of Dying
Race, Tells How He Has Watched the
March of Progress.
March of Progress.
(By E. Dana Johnson.)

(By E. Dana Johnson.)
He sat meditatively on the counter
of the trading store in the quaint old
pueblo of 1sleta-a striking, venerable
figure.
About six feet in height with a
chest like an OK; enormously wide
shoulders and arms like door posts;
wide, straight, thin Tipped mouth, like
trap, and square, powerful jaw, the
most massive jaw I have ever seen;
eyes dimmed with many more years
than the allotted three score and ten;
W1sps of thin, iron gray hair strag-
Cling out of the red 'kerchief worn by
the Pueblos-this was Patricio Jiron,
anywhere from ninety-dve to hun
dred and five years old, sixteen years
war captain Of the Isletas and patri-
arch of the village.
He sat there on the counter smok-
ing cigarettes, rolled and lighted for
him by the Indian trader, looking out
the doorway across the great brown
mesa and far beyond that into the
years Of his long past prime
The villagers passed in and out, a
steady stream, buying "carne," or
flour potatoes.
For each and every one as they
passed the patriarch had handshake
and a greeting, holding the hand fast
for a moment and smiling into the
others face.
"Old Patricio Jiron,' said the
trader, rolling another cigarette "Tve
nown him to smoke twenty at one
sitting without batting an eye. Old
est man in town. Says he is ninety
five, but he doesn't know, and no one
else has any idea how old he really
is. He was war captain for the Is
letas sixteen years hand running
That's the record in this town, l
guess. They've always got to have
him around when any big ceremony
is going on. They say he has chris
tened thirty-six Indian kids here in his
time, and there's no bigger honor an
Isleta wants for his baby. Likes to
talk about his fights with the Nava-
jos, and I guess he's slaughtered a
bunch of them in his time, all right"
1t was later in the day that, in COM
pany with a bright young Isleta boy
from Carlisle, Antonio Abeyta, l called
on the aged man in his adobe house,
back in the village.
For a few moments the conversa-
tion Indian fashion, consisted of a
nicotine laden silence. Finally Anto-
Mo casually betrayed some curiosity
about the venerable mans past and,
with a. little encouragement, he
launched into "reminiscences that kept
hjno toll L-1e
Though he spoke in the Pueblo, not
the Spanish tongue, his gestures
were so many and SO animated that
the listener could almost see the
scenes that rose so clearly before the
narrator, understanding nothing of his
words. Occasionally he relapsed into
short, ruminative silence and puffed |
his cigarette, while Antonio trans
lated what he had said. AS old Pa !
tricio reverted to the days of Nava-
jo campaigns his voice gained |
strength, his bleared eyes and occa-
sionally, as he recalled the fierce joy !
of some particularly delightful en-
counter, he laughed immoderately in
a cracked treble. Now and again he
would repeat to himself the last |
phrase, seeking to bring back more
clearly some incident.
The mans talk was rambling and
disconnected as he dwelt on one and
another happening that came to his
mind, but it was always of the Nava-
jos and the Apaches and the Com
manches; their fierce raids on the
peaceful Pueblos and the desperate
io lott
they fought for their homes and their
crops and herds against the ma
rauderS.
1T was different in the old days."
said Patricio. Instead Of many white
men there were everywhere Indians,
and instead of cities there were vast
herds of buffalo and antelope. Fifty
years ago." he said, pointing shaking
finger to where the Rio Grande slip
ped over it's golden sands, II have
seen the buffalo pass down the shore
of the great river so many in num-
ber that I could not count them.
Sometimes it would take a day for
herd to get past. Often the braves
Of the Isleta used to shoot the buffa-
loes. l never killed but one. 1t is
not easy, killing the buffalo. Once
big bull gored me with his horns.
Patricio issnot coward, but I would
rather hunt the Navajos. 1t is easier
to dodge a Navajo than ar angry buf-
falo bull, and it is easier to kill him.
81 have gone on many Navajo
hunt. Sometimes we would bring in
a Navajo boy or girl to sell as slave
to my people. They were always eager
to get them. One boy l sold for as
$50 pesos.
'One time, many years ago, long
before the senor was born, the Nava-
jos harried the people of the Jemez
pueblo so that they made war, and in
vited to join them the people of Is
leta, of Taos, San Domingo and San
Filipe. of Laguna and Ancoma and