Wild Splendor Read Free Page A

her bedroom.
    Sitting demurely in a plushly cushioned chair, with her hands folded on her lap, Leonida listened as Kit Carson resumed explaining in his soft-spoken manner the reasons why the Navaho’s activities should be curtailed. She gazed over at Kit, a short and stocky, sandy-haired, ruddy-faced man, dressed in fringed doeskin.
    From what she had read about him, he had come from Kentucky originally and had all the self-reliance of that state’s original settlers. He was known for his prowess as a hunter, and for his ability to rope and ride wild horses. No matter how tough the circumstances, he knew how to survive and even laughed in the face of danger.
    â€œWith the buffalo rapidly disappearing, the Navaho are finding it easier to raid ranches than to hunt game on the land the settlers don’t want,” Harold offered in support of Kit’s ideas about taking over full control of the Navaho. “The settlements and ranches are being raided. Caravans are being plundered, travelers killed. Kit, whatever you decide is best to stop this devastation will suit me fine.”
    Kit rose to his feet and began pacing, as everyone watched him. “For years I’ve been writing the Department of Indian Affairs about these problems, and now they are worsening,” he said, kneading his chin, watching his feet as he paced. “I believe it would be best for the Indians and the white population alike if all Indians were placed on reservations and taught modern farming.”
    He stopped and began looking every man in the eye as he continued. “I’ve learned the language of the Navaho people and their legends, which have been handed down through hundreds of Indian generations,” he said solemnly. “I’ve learned how the Navaho think and reason, and of their resentment against the white man’s taking the game which they say has been put on the earth for the red man. I’ve always sympathized with the Navaho. I’ve even found friendship easy with them. But nevertheless, I now see the need to deal firmly with them. I’ve been sent to take control of all Navaho. As I see it, I have no other choice but to force them to join the Mescalero Indians at Fort Sumner.”
    Stunned, Leonida was seized by a surge of dizziness. She gripped the arms of her chair and stared up at the scout, disbelieving what he had just said.
    Without thinking, she stood up and looked Kit square in the eye. “What you are planning to do is wrong,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “My acquaintance with many of the Navaho in this region has proven they are not a warring band. Why must they pay for the evil others do?”
    There was a sudden hush in the room. The soldiers’ stares attested to what they thought of women who boldly spoke their mind, especially to a man such as Kit Carson.
    He started to speak, but Leonida did not give him the chance, knowing if she did not have her say now, she never would be given the chance again.
    â€œEven the Indian agents have always been political appointees and know nothing of the Navahos’ true needs,” she said, her voice rising in anger. “And now, because the cavalry has not been able to track down the true marauders, you will take your spite out on the innocent?”
    Not giving anyone a chance to say anything back to her, Leonida spun around and left the drawing room. She wished now she hadn’t allowed these men to congregate in her house. Since she had heard so much about the famous frontiersman who had done so much for their country, she had been honored to have him as her guest.
    Upon her arrival at Fort Defiance two years ago to live with her father, he had built her this beautiful adobe hacienda with gardens and terraces, all of the comforts that she had been forced to leave behind in San Francisco upon the death of her mother. Her bedroom was all lace and flower designs, with carpets her bare feet sank into.
    She