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60 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

He told me about a lot of things and showed me some things. He showed me the rock with some

initials and brands and old dates. One date was “1837”. He showed me a cave in a sand rock

cliff, where the smoke had blackened the face and the top of the cave. It was more like an

overhang than a cave. I picked up a perfect arrowhead and there were smooth, hand-sized,

“mano’s” broken and intact, strewn around in front of the cave. Inside the cave or overhang,

there were, “Metate’s” ground into the shelf rock. One after another. It made me think of the

peoples that lived here many, many years ago. They certainly did not have an easy time of living

here.

Juan told me of places he had found where the spear points and arrowheads, both broken and

whole, were laying everywhere.

“You didn’t pick them up?” I asked.

“Juan no needit. Juan, he gots gon.”

I asked him to show me that place someday.

“I don tink ju go theese place. It where a big fight weeth the Indios.”

I didn’t try to persuade him to show me where it was. I figured I’d find it sooner or later by

myself.

CHAPTER TEN

I decided to take Gilberto with me and leave Juan here to watch over things. Juan knew what

to do and he knew the place better that I did. There wasn’t a rock, or tree that he did not know

on the whole place.

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