Leslie Silko - Gardens in the Dunes

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Oh quite wonderful,” Edward replied as he turned the little clay artifact over in his palm. The burial objects with the meteorite — the tiny stone bead necklace and the toy whistle — were intended for a child.

“Well you haven’t seen anything yet!” his companion exclaimed as he carefully pulled back the remains of the feather blanket from the “head” of the meteorite to reveal a glittering “eye” in the lustrous black iron.

“White diamond!” he said triumphantly.

Edward spent a good deal of time on his hands and knees examining the object and its site. He regretted his camera was down below in the wagon and the ascent so difficult; otherwise he might have recorded the Indian burial of the meteorite. In the catalogue of North American meteorites he had been amazed to read about a three-thousand-pound meteor iron discovered in Indian ruins in northern Chihuahua in a room with human burials, wrapped in native cotton just like the others. The prospector wanted to removed it at once, but the doctor managed to persuade him to wait until Edward could see the wonderful object just as it was found. Edward hoped the prospector would agree to sell it at a reasonable price.

From the mesa top the doctor pointed southeast, where the circular lip of the crater easily could be seen; tons and tons more of diamond-bearing iron waited for them there.

The descent was made easier thanks to the rope their driver tossed up and the doctor secured around a sturdy boulder, but effects of the strain on his leg were evident. The pain subsided as long as he managed to keep the leg propped up straight in the back of the buggy during the remainder of the ride. Later that evening in the camp on the rim of the crater, the doctor examined the leg and the redness and swelling around the scar. He gave Edward a handful of morphine tablets to take as needed for the discomfort but saw no need for concern. The buggy driver was a retired railroad engineer who hired on to drive and to serve as the camp cook. That evening he prepared a brace of quail he shot the day before, and Gates brought out a bottle of fine brandy to celebrate Edward’s arrival. The brandy enhanced the effect of the pills, and the pain subsided.

The prospector arrived after dark on a mule, towing a donkey loaded with his gear. He was a tall wiry man with a trimmed beard; he wore dusty overalls and a faded shirt, but his boots were new. His skin was sun darkened black as a Negro’s but his bright blue eyes and long, pinched nose allowed no mistake, nor did his hair, sun bleached white-blond even under his wide-brim hat. The prospector was content to let others do the talking, but behind the wire-rimmed glasses, his blue eyes took in everything.

The following morning, despite the stiffness and swelling, the doctor pronounced the leg safe to proceed. Edward swallowed more pills for the pain and eased himself up into the buggy for the half-mile ride to the bottom of the crater. The test drilling rig was in place to begin a first series of test holes and there were high hopes all around. The plan was to put down test holes to determine the locations of the largest deposits of the meteor irons.

The bottom of the crater was covered with strange white and gray silica flour — melted sand particles pulverized in the meteor’s collision. The drilling rig was sidelined by water seepage into the drilling hole; the crater was a natural rain-catchment device. Heavy rains some months before had flooded the ponds they used to dispose of water pumped from the drill hole. Now long canvas fire hoses snaked out of the pond of standing water around the drilling rig. The mule team was hitched to a large cylinder that operated bilge pumps to clear the exploration hole of water seepage, but an equipment breakdown halted all activity.

Dr. Gates and the drilling foreman spread open the map to show Edward the distribution of meteorite debris, which suggested the main mass of metals would be found here in this northeastern quadrant. The prospector stood by patiently with the assay lab reports in his hand. They estimated the mass was buried under the southern wall some two thousand feet deep, and the meteorite itself weighed ten million tons.

Edward could hardly control his excitement as he read the assay reports. The most recent samples taken from the test hole proved to be almost pure cadmium with platinum, and traces of iridium, and palladium studded with white and black diamonds of industrial quality.

The following morning on their way back to the hotel in Winslow for baths and clean clothing, Gates confided the prospector was bored with the test drilling, accustomed as he was to roaming in search of mineral samples or Indian ruins to dig. The prospector decided to sell his mining claim, and offered it to the doctor first.

Naturally Edward understood the urgency of buying the claim lest a stranger buy it and gain control of the site. As soon as they reached the hotel and washed up, Edward sent a telegram to the bank in New York City for funds to be wired to the bank in Albuquerque.

♦ ♦ ♦

At the construction site Hattie spoke with the army officer in charge, who could only tell her some weeks before a number of workers and others had left after a violent disturbance broke out. Indigo stayed in the buggy to make sure Linnaeus and Rainbow had plenty of shade. She was teaching the two of them to get along with each other — Linnaeus learned to hold a sunflower seed in two fingers between the cage bars for Rainbow. As long she watched him, the parrot politely took the seed, but if she turned away, Rainbow tried to pinch the monkey’s fingers with his beak.

The officer in charge consulted with his aide-de-camp, who left the tent to find the young Mexican, Juanito, who might know. The young officer insisted Hattie take his field chair and have a cup of water while they waited. He was from Pennsylvania and this was his first assignment out west. His face lit up when Hattie mentioned New York and Boston; the dust and the heat here were almost unbearable.

The aide returned with a young Mexican man, who listened to Hattie’s description of the young Indian women she sought; yes, of course he remembered them, he said with a smile; they were a lot of fun. Hattie’s cheeks colored and she looked away; the captain cleared his throat. Did he know where they went? Juanito nodded. The Chemehuevi girls bought land at Road’s End and the other girl went with them.

Hattie asked if there were accommodations for travelers nearby; it was half past four, much too late to start out for Road’s End. The captain consulted with his aide briefly, then offered her and the child his tent for the night, and invited them to dine with him. Gallant Captain Higgens even found space in a tent with enlisted men for the buggy driver, who declined the offer with a sullen shake of his head. Hattie was determined to replace the man as soon as they returned to Needles.

Indigo took the monkey cage down to the river to clean out and wash; the buggy driver muttered under his breath about “the stink of monkey shit and Indians.” She found a shallow puddle and washed out both cages even though Rainbow’s wasn’t dirty.

Later that evening, over supper, the captain alluded to the driver’s rudeness and local resentment at the presence of federal troops. Of course, Arizona had been Confederate territory, and the captain suspected the locals resented the army’s protection of the Indian reservation boundaries. He smiled at Indigo. She certainly was intelligent and well mannered, thanks, no doubt, to Hattie’s efforts.

Hattie smiled and nodded, but she was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with the captain’s enthusiasm. Her wedding ring was in plain view but he may have assumed she was widowed. She told Indigo to get ready for bed, and the captain excused himself and said good night.