"Riding is an Exercise of the Mind" from In the Presence of the Sun [1992]
N. Scott Momaday (1934-)
One autumn morning in 1946 I woke up at Jemez Pueblo. I had arrived there in the middle of the night and gone to sleep. I had no idea of the landscape, no sense of where in the world I was. Now, in the bright New Mexican morning, I began to look around and settle in. I had found the last, best home of my childhood.
When my parents and I moved to Jemez, I was twelve years old. The world was a different place then, and Jemez was the most exotic corner within it. The village and the valley, the canyons and the mountains, had been there from the beginning of time, waiting for me. So it seemed. Marco Polo in the court of Kublai Khan had nothing on me. I was embarked upon the greatest adventure of all; I had come to the place of my growing up.
The landscape was full of mystery and of life. The autumn was in full bloom. The sun cast a golden light upon the adobe walls and the cornfields; it set fire to the leaves of willows and cottonwoods along the river; and a fresh, cold wind ran down from the canyons and carried the good scents of pine and cedar smoke, of bread baking in the beehive ovens, and of rain in the mountains. There were horses in the plain and angles of geese in the sky.
One November, on the feast of San Diego, Jemez took on all the color of a Renaissance fair. I lived on the southwest corner of the village, on the wagon road to San Ysidro. I looked southward into the plain; there a caravan of covered wagons reached as far as the eye could see. These were the Navajos, coming in from Torreon. I had never seen such a pageant; it was as if that whole proud people, the Diné, had been concentrated into one endless migration. There was a great dignity to them, even in revelry. They sat tall in the wagons and on horseback, going easily with laughter and singing their riding songs. And when they set up camp in the streets, they were perfectly at home, their dogs about them. They made coffee and fried bread and roasted mutton on their open fires.
Gradually and without effort I entered into the motion of life there. In the winter dusk I heard coyotes barking away by the river, the sound of the drums in the kiva, and the voice of the village crier, ringing at the rooftops.
And on summer nights of the full moon I saw old men in their ceremonial garb, running after witches—and sometimes I saw the witches themselves in the forms of bats and cats and owls on fence posts.
I came to know the land by going out upon it in all seasons, getting into it until it became the very element in which I lived my daily life.
I had a horse named Pecos, a fleet-footed roan gelding, which was my great glory for a time. Pecos could outrun all the other horses in the village, and he wanted always to prove it. We two came to a good understanding of each other, I believe. I did a lot of riding in those days, and I got to be very good at it. My Kiowa ancestors, who were centaurs, should have been proud of me.
Riding is an exercise of the mind. I dreamed a good deal on the back of my horse, going out into the hills alone. Desperadoes were everywhere in the brush. More than once I came upon roving bands of hostile Indians and had, on the spur of the moment, to put down an uprising. Now and then I found a wagon train in trouble, and always among the settlers there was a lovely young girl from Charleston or Philadelphia who needed simply and more than anything else in the world to be saved. I saved her.
After a time Billy the Kid was with me on most of those adventures. He rode on my right side and a couple of steps behind. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, for he bore watching. We got on well together in the main, and he was a good man to have along in a fight. We had to be careful of glory-seeking punks. Incredibly, there were those in the world who were foolish enough to oppose us, merely for the sake of gaining a certain reputation.
When it came time for me to leave home and venture out into the wider world, I sold my horse to an old gentleman at Vallecitos. I like to think that Pecos went on with our games long afterward, that in his old age he listened for the sound of bugles and of gunfire—and for the pitiful weeping of young ladies in distress—and that he heard them as surely as I do now.
Questions for Discussion
1. This selection is best described as —
A) a personal narrative
B) a tall tale
C) an editorial
D) a satire
E) none of the above
2. In the paragraphs about desperados and Billy the Kid, the author achieves most of his effect through the use of —
A) extensive explanation
B) imaginative narration
C) philosophical insights
D) amusing asides
E) none of the above
3. Which of the following is the most important element in this selection?
A) The plot
B) The setting
C) The climax
D) The characterization
E) none of the above
4. When the author compares himself to Marco Polo in the court of Kublai Khan, he is using a historical —
A) allusion
B) argument
C) benchmark
D) misconception
E) none of the above
5. The comparison to Marco Polo in the court of Kublai Khan is intended to make readers feel the —
A) tranquility of the scenery
B) ruggedness of the mountain terrain
C) difference between today’s world and the world of 1946
D) author’s sense of awe at his new surroundings
E) none of the above
6. In this story, the narrator imagines himself to be —
A) an outsider
B) a hero
C) a caretaker
D) a trickster
E) none of the above
7. In Greek mythology, a centaur is a creature who is half horse and half man. In paragraph 7, the narrator calls his ancestors centaurs. This reference suggests that they —
A) were believed to be descended from horses
B) had learned about Greek mythology
C) looked mysterious on horseback
D) were superb horsemen
E) none of the above
8. Which sentence from the selection best reveals the author’s attitude toward his subject?
A) “I lived on the southwest corner of the village . . .”
B) “I had never seen such a pageant . . .”
C) “There was a great dignity to them . . .”
D) “I was embarked upon the greatest adventure of all . . .”
E) none of the above
9. Which detail does not contribute to the reader’s perception that Jemez Pueblo is an exotic place?
A) “The autumn was in full bloom.”
B) “. . . the sound of the drums in the kiva, and the voice of the village crier . . .”
C) “The sun cast a golden light upon the adobe walls and the cornfields . . .”
D) “. . . of bread baking in the beehive ovens, and of rain in the mountains.”
E) none of the above
1A
2B
3B
4A
5D
6B
7D
8F
9A