The Diaries of John Gregory Bourke Volume 5: May 23, 1881--August 26, 1881

12. Keam’s Ranch

245 Chapter 12 ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ Keam’s Ranch A ugust 7th 1881. Keam, Moran and myself left at 8 o’clock for Moqui Agency, and villages, viâ old Ft. Defiance. An exhilarating , lovely morning greeted us as a harbinger of success. Passed a Navajo Indian, on horseback, carrying the U.S. mail. The country, in many gentle little hollows, is full of wild potatoes, a favorite article of food among the Utes and Navajoes. Mr. Moran gave a very amusing description of his experiences while sketching among the Pennsylvania Dutch. Often while sketching industriously some glorious effect of light and shadow upon a mountain rich in the dazzling brilliancy of early autumn foliage, he would perceive the approach of one of the uncouth , double-jointed, shock-headed sons of the soil, who leaning over his canvass would drawl out in tones of encouragement and patronage: “I say, Meester, dot’s a tam nice picture, meester, got any teobacker?”. Or, perhaps, Paterfamilias himself, would approach our artist’s easel, and say, with the self-importance begotten of rich acres and barns bursting with golden grain: “meester, vas dot you a settin’ on that hill younter dis mawnin’, mit your het a pobbin’ up unt your het a pobbin’ town? “Yas! Vell ten’ I shall be tam. I say to my boy, Shacob, Shacob, do you see dot mane on der hill up yunter mit his het a pobbin’ up und his het a pobbin’ down? Vell, he look like von tam, pig fool, 246 the hopI Snake dance ain’t it? I say meester, I tells you vat you het petter do: you just go take an axe mit your hant.—I grep you ’his goot hotwize,—you shust go take an axe mit your hant, and go to de hill up yunter and shop down trees vur den cents a tay und make your leefin’ like un honest mane, boi-Gott.” Our enjoyment of Moran’s curious experiences and his quaint way of describing them, made us unmindful of the swarms of flies which attacked us during the day. At old Fort Defiance, my friend Mr. Leonard, the Agency trader, extended his usual cordial reception, in which he was assisted by his clerks, Sinclair & McDonald. Called upon Agent Eastman and son and Dr. Elbert; and in the evening, met Mr. Damon. Our very good dinner was somewhat impaired in our enjoyment of it at least, by the clouds of flies invading the house and filling every room. There were very few Navajoes in or around the Agency, but those to be seen were typical representatives of the race: squareshouldered , sinewy, compact and tall, figures, very straight limbs, square jaws, intelligent, good-natured faces. Much scandal has of late appeared in the public prints concerning the inefficiency of Mr. Eastman, who belongs to the psalm-singing fraternity. He is the brother-in law of Senator [Thomas W.] Ferry, one of our Christian statesmen, whose reputation a year or so ago was so savory with the disclosures made by a lady, Mrs. Cooper, of Michigan, wife of one of his constituents, whose husband he promised to appoint to a lucrative office at the price of her honor. Eastman was, last summer, run off from the reservation by the Navajo chiefs who grew restless and disgusted under his peculiar methods of administration. Colonel Frank L. Bennett, 9th Cavalry , was hurriedly assigned to the care of the Reservation and by his popularity with the tribe not only succeeded in averting a bloody and expensive war, but also restored good feeling. Taking advantage of this, the Interior Department, sent back Eastman, whose “influence” was too powerful to be ignored. The result may not be War, but it cannot be that peaceful and contented state of affairs, without which the advancement of any people is simply an impossibility. Before going to bed, Mr. Leonard made me a present of a beautiful Navajo blanket for General Crook and a fine rug for myself. August 8th 1881. Had a refreshing sleep. Waked by what I thought was the sound of heavy rain; it turned out to be the buzzing of keam’S ranch 247 myriads of flies, warming the [sic] renewed vigor under the genial rays of the early sun. Keam, Sinclair, Morrow, myself, and two soldiers, Gordon and Smallwood, started for the Moqui Villages. Our road followed up Bonito Cañon and then through a very rugged...