THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 91 



Franciscan Friars in the sixteenth century belongs, 

 nevertheless, to the age of miracles. Torn by- 

 thorns of cactus and mesquite, stumbling with bleed- 

 ing feet over rocky mountains, wandering under the 

 burning sun of the desert or lost in pathless forests 

 uncertain whether life or death was to be their 

 portion when by chance they lighted upon some set- 

 tlement, they hurried on, succeeding or failing, but 

 always going forward, losing their lives if need be — 

 although it must be said that at this, the initial ap- 

 pearance of the white man, the Pueblo tribes en- 

 treated him gently and hospitably. 



The cruelty of the Spanish soldiery, the enslave- 

 ment of a free people and the exactions of the 

 Church provoked the first rebellion. A conical hill — 

 one of numerous extinct volcanoes — above the river 

 back of my ranch is distinguished by the legend that 

 on it the Spaniards made their last stand when they 

 were being driven out of the country, not to return 

 for a decade or more. 



But the rebellion was yet undreamed of when the 

 Holy Inquisition held its initial Santo Officio in the 

 palace at Santa Fe. Without doubt those infernal 

 rites had not a little to do with the explosion of 

 1680, although it is by no means certain that up to 

 that date the natives had suffered in person. More 

 probably they were excited by rumors emanating 

 from the relatives of Spanish victims. Now this 

 ancient palace of priests and governors stands not 

 only as one of the landmarks of history, but as the 

 home of perhaps the finest archaeological collection 

 in the United States, as well as of linguistic and his- 



