“Yaqui” by Zane Grey

 

Love of life lulled Yaqui back into his dreams. To live, to have his people around him, to see his dusky-eyed wife at her work, to watch the naked children playing in the grass, to look out over that rolling, endless green valley, so wild, so lonely so fertile-- such a proof of God in the desert--to feel the hot sun and the sweet wind and the cool night, to linger on the heights watching, listening, feeling, to stalk the keen-eyed mountain sheep, to eat fresh meat and drink pure water, to rest through the solemn still noons as sleep away the silent melancholy nights, to enjoy the games of his forefathers--wild games of riding and running--to steal off alone into the desert and endure heat, thirst, cold, dust, starvation while he sought the Indian gods hidden in the rocks, to be free of the white man--to live like the eagles-- to live-- Yaqui asked no more.

Another from the 100 Best Roster. This 1920 story from Grey took me by surprise as my only exposure to him is his much-touted novel Riders of the Purple Sage, a work that, in all honesty, I have never finished despite numerous attempts.

Where that novel, at least the third I’ve read, bores me, this story kept me surprised with its distinct tone shifts.

We begin with a well-researched account of the Yaqui Indians.

We go through a harrowing conflict and then a description of the henequen industry, shift to a subplot of love amongst the Dons and end with a Gothic revenge worthy of Poe.

The style kept this reader at a bit of remove but the tone shifts and surprising brutality kept me reading to see where this tragic tale was going.

It may not make my “Best of…” list but, impressed I was.