LAND OF ROMANCE.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 142, 18 June 1934, Page 5

LAND OF ROMANCE.

THE NOBLE REDSKIN. ABORIGINAL PHILOSOPHY. A REGION OF NO HURRY.

(By HOWARD VINCENT O'BRIEN.)

ALBUQUERQUE, New Mexico, May 2. In the valley of the Rio Grande men pray'to , the gods for water. They live by water and kill for it. In one town recently there were two murders caused by disputes over water rights. The Indians shake their hcade. They are sceptical of the white man's zeal for improving Nature. "You build dams," they say. "You make water for the fields. Crops flourish. Then the rain gods glow tired. There is not enough water. Men fight for what there ie. The Indian is not so foolieh. In wet times he knows that dry times must come. Ho is careful not to crowd." The Indian fought "overproduction" long before we invented the word.

The Red Man's Castle. I tried to visit the pueblo of San Felipe. Access to it is by a rutty lane off the highroad, from which all indicating marks have been erased—if there ever were any. It took an hour to find that lane and another exploring its equally unmarked forks. Finally, in cight-eylindered magnificence, we lolled into the plaza of the lowly red men. A brave, gorgeously attired in magenta packet and yellow trousers, advanced to meet ue, his hand upraised in what I thought was greeting. It wasn't. I knew sufficient Spanish to understand that the gesture meant "stop." And I ha<l learned enough of Indian way's to slap on the brakes without argument. When I pleaded with him for reasons he called another Indian, cquilly resplendent, who spoke a little E. jlis'h.

To him I presented credentials signed by dignitaries high in the Department of the Interior. They were just about as effective as Indian wampum offered in exchange for Liberty 4/. He handed back my papers, smiled pleasantly, and said, "No." I tried to explain that I was not a mere tourist, anxious to buy baskets; but it was no use. "Come some other day," the Indian said. "To-day we have business." And that was that. Unofficial ambassador from the United States Government though. I might be, 1 was not weli conic in San Felipe at that particular i time. And as I drove away I had a new respect for the aborigine. It was refreshing to find a place into which I neither money nor influence ' nor the I power of the Press could enable one to penetrate. Just over the bridge my engine began j to spit with a flooding carburettor. And J then I had a flat tyre. I wonder what those Indians, praying in heathen faith I for rain and fruitfulness, thought of a civilisation which could, one minute, roll 6o smoothly, and the next drop one so igiiomiiipus-ly. Gods of Celluloid. This is a land Where many gods are' worshipped, that of the Christian being a rather insecure newcomer. On the railway platform in Albuquerque I found a new addition to the pantheon of primitive idolatry. When the. transcontinental trams roll in, carrying their cargo of movie stars, the flappers of the town are on hand, begging for autographs. Xo savage, prostrate before a wooden image, could express devotion more completely than j these ehining-eyed devotees of celluloid. I Shortly before the de luxe train from i the Eaet came in, another one arrived from the West. And from one of its j Pullmans descended a family of Indians, carrying suitcases. They seemed to be in a hurry. Five minutes later they had put on their- regalia, emptied their bags, j and were on the platform before their stoeke of pottery and blankets, ready for business. To the tourist, seeing in his first glimpse of the Indian only a pedlar j of knicknacks, lie must seem a pitiful mendicant. Had he had my experience at San Felipe hp would know better. It would make him understand Kipling's emotion when he wrote "Fuzzy Wuzzy." ' •.'' ' ' ■ ' ■- ■■ -•'

It ie hard to make time on the roads of these' parts. They abound with "dips' , — depressions that serve as culverts, and are ruinous to springs. A< a discouragement to speeding in tin; towns there are bumps. Between them one moves cautiously or not at all. Stoplights apply to pedestrians as well as to cars. One used to big cities is amazed to see walkers waiting patiently for the green light. It .may be the altitude, it may be the low humidity; but -people don't hurry out here.— (X.A.N.A.)