Essays

Moseying: History of the Southern Llano Estacado

On a cold winter day, the ghosts of tlatoleros are on the wind
January 24, 2007

Daytripping can be done in the head, especially during “horrible weather.” The recent long cold spell (the longest since 1983) has provided unusual beauty. Photographs of the storm are available here. After a week, however, the “miserable” weather began affecting people’s moods. I, for one, became reflective and quiet, finding myself going to the front doors of the Sibley Nature Center and staring out at the wet landscape on Friday the 19th. My mind went wandering into a spate of “philosophical rumination.” Both Richard Galle (Sibley’s Development Director) and I felt draggy and forgetful – “I feel like I have had a mini-stroke because my mind is just not alert,” Richard commented.

American Indians told stories during long cold spells. Certain stories of religious nature could only be told in the winter (and some could only be told during the long winter nights during a period around the winter solstice.) Extended families would gather around a brightly burning fire to be entertained, educated, and inspired by tales of mythical times. I decided that was what was missing – a brightly burning fire, but we had no place to build one. We hope to have such a place in the near future, for the staff and board of directors has planned a number of site improvements for the Sibley Nature Center. Included in the list is a large covered outdoor pavilion with a firepit in the center, along with seating and signage

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I have camped out in such inclement weather in the past. As I stood at the door, I remembered a campfire in the Chiricahua Mountains during a cold rainstorm. Hugh Franks and I had met Laird Considine for a birdwatching excursion one summer years ago. We were in the clouds, in a foggy cold rain, rain made cold by our 9,000' elevation at the Barfoot Campground. We were younger, much younger then, so we built a roaring campfire. What I remembered, standing at Sibley’s door, was the eerie sound of two old bulls bellering back and forth in the evening gloam. National Forests are multi-purpose public land, so a visitor does not get a “wilderness experience,” but a camper does get a “western experience,” replete with evidence of each forest’s history of ranching, lumbering, and mining. Later that same night Ridgeway’s whippoorwills began their eerie calls – loud, startling and totally unearthly.

I stared out the window, hearing those bizarre noises from the past in my head. It was as if something was bellowing out loneliness and misery on this dreary day. “Burr, um… Burr, you might want to check on your puppy.” Richard brought me out my reverie. Teddy, the new puppy that Deborah and I have recently acquired, comes to work with me until he is old enough to stay home alone. The puppy was yipping and yowling. I went back to my office where I found the puppy had tied himself up in his leash. I picked him up and sat in my chair, scratching his head as he settled down in my lap. I stared out my office window and drifted off into “space” again.

The word “tlatolero” popped into my mind It means “town crier, announcer, or spokesman” in Nahuatl, but was a term used to describe a role in Comanche Indian society. I put the sleeping puppy into his bed and headed for the Sibley Nature Center’s library – in what book had I learned the word? I reached for Gerald Betty’s “Comanche Society.” Tlatolero, in that book, meant “village crier,” the person that announced news in a Comanche camp. On the Internet I found the word used to mean “agitator of rebellion” in the Chiapas Indian rebellion in Mexico in the 1990s. I looked in my notes, flipping through a notebook or two until I found a note about how tlatolero was an individual selected by the tribal members to “be their spokesman in negotiation.” In other words, tlatoleros were individuals that could present coherent and cohesive language and represent his own band’s interest more ably than any other tribal member.

How did a Nahuatl word from the Aztecs 1500 miles south enter into usage by Comanches in Texas? Was it because of the long relationship between Spanish settlers in northern New Mexico and Comanches? I dug around in my notes a little further, seeking an answer to the question – “was it really used in the 1800s?” I found a notation that Pierre (Pedro) Vial used it in a report. Vial traveled from Santa Fe to San Antonio in 1789.

My mind had jumped from the voices of the gloaming (the bulls and whippoorwills) to a word that meant “crier” or “news announcer” or “spokesman.” The little puppy whimpered. I looked down – he was asleep and dreaming, his little feet running in the air. Part of his AKC name is in Nahuatl (xocoatl, meaning chocolate.) He is a chocolate Labrador retriever. Many Nahuatl words found their way into the Spanish dialects spoken in Mexico, and some have even entered English (coyote is the Nahuatl word coyotl.) Nahuatl is still spoken by over a million and a half people in Mexico.

The puppy began whimpering again because Michael Nickell, Sibley’s museum specialist and artist, had just heated up his lunch in the microwave, and the rich odors of a stew had awakened the pup. “What was the reason that my mind followed such pathways?” I asked myself. I looked down at the pup chewing on his stuffed toy… and the following answer came into my mind; “The history and culture of the Llano Estacado has many influences, and the source of those influences are far-reaching.” I love learning about what makes Llaneros (residents of the Llano Estacado) Llaneros! I like knowing about tlatoleros – it broadens my understanding about Comanche culture and their relationship with the early-day Spanish settlers of the region , and both are forever linked in history with the Llano Estacado!