My First Days on Paiute

When I was little, two or three years old, around 1937, my mother Esther took my brother Fritz and me and went to live on a ranch that belonged to an old rancher named Nick Williams. I believe my mom did this for reasons of health or sanity. My sister Audrey stayed with friends in the Los Angeles area. Fritz was five years older than me and my sister was a year older than Fritz.

My mother, a capable rider, was supposed to help with Nick's cattle from time to time and we all lived in a small log cabin on a separate section of the main ranch. Our only domestic company in that section was Bubbles, a Hereford bull, and Muffin, our cat. We stayed there for a year. Memories of a child as young as I was are at best vague and sometimes it is difficult to separate what one actually remembers from what one was told. My memories are mostly like post cards, pictures in my mind.

Fritz and I walked to the main ranch most days. Nick had a bone yard there that had several old wagons and a few automobiles, a great place for kids to play. Fritz was responsible for me and I was his only company. I only remember Mom and home and Nick at the ranch. I understood that a man worked at the ranch, and Nick had ten daughters and a son.

Fritz and I wandered all over the place, having our little adventures. One day we came upon a nest of rattlesnakes and Fritz guarded them and made me run home to get Mom to do something about them. She didn't want to come as she was busy sewing on her treadle sewing machine. But I would not stop yelling, so she finally came. I don't remember what happened after that. What was important was that my "message to Garcia" got through.

Nick used to tease me by poking his finger at my face and daring me to bite it. Mom warned me not to bite, but one day when we were at the ranch for dinner (beans) I did bite him. For punishment Mom made me chew and eat three chili tepinas. that was a lesson I can never forget.

I remember once a hog was going to be killed. I guess Mom was going to help scrape it. Fritz and I sat on the top rail of the fence as they dragged the pig -- it looked huge -- into the corral with a rope tied to one hind leg. Have you heard the term "screamed like a stuck pig?" The screaming starts before the pig is killed. They ran a rope through a pulley and suspended the pig in the air. Then they cut its throat and the pig bled out and thus was dead. A large cauldron sat on a fire and they scalded the pig to make the hair come off easier. I guess we all ate pork for a while. 

We ate marrow gut when some animal was slaughtered. The animal is left to stand without food for 24 hours. After it is killed, the small intestine is removed and the liquid in it left to sort of coagulate. Then it is cut into pieces and fried. I can remember how good it tasted.

Joanne Heyser Harris