Chapter 16 Off to the Fair

The night before the County Fair, everybody went to bed early. Fern and Avery were in bed by eight. Avery lay dreaming that the Ferris wheel had stopped and that he was in the top car. Fern lay dreaming that she was getting sick in the swings.

　　Lurvy was in bed by eight-thirty. He lay dreaming that he was throwing baseballs at a cloth cat and winning a genuine Navajo blanket. Mr. and Mrs. Zuckerman were in bed by nine. Mrs. Zuckerman lay dreaming about a deep freeze unit. Mr. Zuckerman lay dreaming about Wilbur. He dreamt that Wilbur had grown until he was one hundred and sixteen feet long and ninety-tow feet high and that he had won all the prizes at the Fair and was covered with blue ribbons and even had a blue ribbon tied to the end of his tail.

　　Down in the barn cellar, the animals, too, went to sleep early, all except Charlotte. Tomorrow would be Fair Day. Every creature planned to get up early to see Wilbur off on his great adventure.

　　When morning came, everybody got up at daylight. The day was hot. Up the road at the Arables' house, Fern lugged a pail of hot water to her room and took a sponge bath. Then she put on her prettiest dress because she knew she would see boys at the Fair. Mrs. Arable scrubbed the back of Avery's neck, and wet his hair, and parted it, and brushed it down hard till it stuck to the top of his head--all but about six hairs that stood straight up. Avery put on clean underwear, clean blue jeans, and a clean shirt. Mr. Arable dressed, ate breakfast, and then went out and polished his truck. He had offered to drive everybody to the Fair, including Wilbur.

　　Bright and early, Lurvy put clean straw in Wilbur's crate and lifted it into the pigpen. The crate was green. In gold letters it said:

　　ZUCKERMAN'S FAMOUS PIGCharlotte had her web looking fine for the occasion. Wilbur ate his breakfast slowly. He tried to look radiant without getting food in his ears.

　　In the kitchen, Mrs. Zuckerman suddenly made an announcement.

　　"Homer," she said to her husband, "I am going to give that pig a buttermilk bath.""A what?" said Mr. Zuckerman.

　　"A buttermilk bath. My grandmother used to bathe her pig with buttermilk when it got dirty--I just remembered.""Wilbur's not dirty," said Mr. Zuckerman proudly.

　　"He's filthy behind the ears," said Mrs. Zuckerman. "Every time Lurvy slops him, the food runs down around the ears. Then it dries and forms a crust. He also has a smudge on one side where he lays in the manure.""He lays in clean straw," corrected Mr. Zuckerman.

　　"Well, he's dirty, and he's going to have a bath."Mr. Zuckerman sat down weakly and ate a doughnut. His wife went to the woodshed. When she returned, she wore rubber boots and an old raincoat, and she carried a bucket of buttermilk and a small wooden paddle.

　　"Edith, you're crazy," mumbled Zuckerman.

　　But she paid no attention to him. Together they walked to the pigpen. Mrs. Zuckerman wasted no time. She climbed in with Wilbur and went to work. Dipping her paddle in the buttermilk, she rubbed him all over. The geese gathered around to see the fun, and so did the sheep and lambs. Even Templeton poked his head out cautiously, to watch Wilbur get a buttermilk bath. Charlotte got so interested, she lowered herself on a dragline so she could see better. Wilbur stood still and closed his eyes. He could feel the buttermilk trickling down his sides. he opened his mouth and some buttermilk ran in. it was delicious. He felt radiant and happy. When Mrs. Zuckerman got through and rubbed him dry, he was the cleanest, prettiest pig you ever saw. He was pure white, pink around the ears and snout, and smooth as silk.

　　The Zuckermans went up to change into their best clothes. Lurvy went to shave and put on his plaid shirt and his purple necktie. The animals were left to themselves in the barn.

　　The seven goslings paraded round and round their mother.

　　"Please, please, please take us to the Fair!" begged a gosling. Then all seven began teasing to go.

　　"Please, Please, Please, Please, Please, Please..." They made quite a racket.

　　"Children!" snapped the goose. "We're staying quietly-ietly-ietly at home. Only Wilbur-ilbur-ilbur is going to the Fair."Just then Charlotte interrupted.

　　"I shall go, too," she said, softly. "I have decided to go with Wilbur. He may need me. We can't tell what may happen at the Fair Grounds. Somebody's got to go along who knows how to write. And I think Templeton better come, too--I might need somebody to run errands and do general work.""I'm staying right here," grumbled the rat. "I haven't the slightest interest in fairs.""That's because you've never been to one," remarked the old sheep. "A fair is a rat's paradise. Everybody spills food at a fair. A rat can creep out late at night and have a feast. In the horse barn you will find oats that the trotters and pacers have spilled. In the trampled grass of the infield you will find old discarded lunch boxes containing the foul remains of peanut butter sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, cracker crumbs, bits of doughnuts, and particles of cheese. In the hard-packed dirt of the midway, after the glaring lights are out and the people have gone home to bed, you will find a veritable treasure of popcorn fragments, frozen custard dribblings, candied apples abandoned by tired children, sugar fluff crystals, salted almonds, popsicles, partially gnawed ice cream cones, and the wooden sticks of lollypops. Everywhere is loot for a rat--in tents, in booths, in hay lofts--why, a fair has enough disgusting leftover food to satisfy a whole army of rats."Templeton's eyes were blazing.

　　"Is this true?" he asked. "Is this appetizing yarn of yours true? I like high living, and what you say tempts me.""It is true," said the old sheep. "Go to the Fair, Templeton. You will find that the conditions at a fair will surpass your wildest dreams. Buckets with sour mash sticking to them, tin cans containing particles of tuna fish, greasy paper bags stuffed with rotten...""That's enough!" cried Templeton. "Don't tell me any more. I'm going.""Good," said Charlotte, winking at the old sheep. "Now then--there is no time to be lost. Wilbur will soon be put into the crate. Templeton and I must get in the crate right now and hide ourselves."The rat didn't waste a minute. He scampered over to the crate, crawled between the slats, and pulled straw up over him so he was hidden from sight.

　　"All right," said Charlotte, "I'm next." She sailed into the air, let out a dragline, and dropped gently to the ground. then she climbed the side of the crate and hid herslef inside a knothole in the top board.

　　The old sheep nodded. "What a cargo!" she said. "That sign ought to say 'Zuckerman's Famous Pig and Two Stowaways'.""Look out, the people are coming-oming-oming!" shouted the gander. "Cheese it, cheese it, cheese it!"The big truck with Mr. Arable at the wheel backed slowly down toward the barnyard. Lurvy and Mr. Zuckerman walked alongside. Fern and Avery were standing in the body of the truck hanging on to the sideboards.

　　"Listen to me," whispered the old sheep to Wilbur. "When they open the crate and try to put you in, struggle! Don't go without a tussle. Pigs always resist when they are being loaded.""If I struggle I'll get dirty," said Wilbur.

　　"Never mind that--do as I say! Struggle! If you were to walk into the crate without resisting, Zuckerman might think you were bewitched. He'd be scared to go to the Fair."Templeton poked his head up through the straw. "Struggle if you must," said he, " but kindly remember that I'm hiding down here in this crate and I don't want to be stepped on, or kicked in the face, or pummeled, or crushed in any way, or squashed, or buffeted about, or bruised, or lacerated, or scarred, or biffed. Just watch what you're doing, Mr. Radiant, when they get shoving you in!""Be quiet, Templeton!" said the sheep. "Pull in you head--they're coming. Look radiant, Wilbur! Lay low, Charlotte! Talk it up, geese!"The truck backed slowly to the pigpen and stopped. Mr. arable cut the motor, got out, walked around to the rear, and lowered the tailgate. The geese cheered. Mrs. Arable got out of the truck. Fern and Avery jumped to the ground. Mrs. Zuckerman came walking down from the house. Everybody lined up at the fence and stood for a moment admiring Wilbur and the beautiful green crate. Nobody realized that the crate already contained a rat and a spider.

　　"That's some pig!" said Mrs. Arable.

　　"He's terrific," said Lurvy.

　　"He's very radiant," said Fern, remembering the day he was born.

　　"Well," said Mrs. Zuckerman, "he's clean, anyway. The buttermilk certainly hepled."Mr. Arable studied Wilbur carefully. "Yes, he's a wonderful pig," he said. "It's hard to believe that he was the runt of the litter. You'll get some extra good ham and bacon, Homer, when it comes time to kill that pig."Wilbur heard these words and his heart almost stopped. "I think I'm going to faint," he whispered to the old sheep, who was watching.

　　"Kneel down." whispered the old sheep. "Let the blood rush to you head!"Wilbur sank to his knees, all radiance gone. His eyes closed.

　　"Look!" screamed Fern. "He's fading away!""Hey, watch me!" yelled Avery, crawling on all fours into the crate. "I'm a pig! I'm a pig!"Avery's foot touched Templeton under the straw. "What a mess!" thought the rat. "What fantastic creatures boys are! why did I let myself in for this?"The geese saw Avery in the crate and cheered.

　　"Avery, you get out of that crate this instant!" commanded his mother. "What do you think you are?""I'm a pig1" cried Avery, tossing handfuls of straw into the air. "Oink, oink, oink!""The truck is rolling away, Papa," said Fern.

　　The truck, with no one at the wheel, had started to roll downhill. Mr. Arable dashed to the driver's seat and pulled on the emergency brake. The truck stopped. The geese cheered. Charlotte crouched and made herself as small as possible in the knothole, so Avery wouldn't see her.

　　"Come out at once!" cried Mrs. Arable. Avery crawled out of the crate on hands and knees, making faces at Wilbur. Wilbur fainted away.

　　"The pig has passed out," said Mrs. Zuckerman. "Throw water on him!""Throw buttermilk!" suggested Avery.

　　The geese cheered.

　　Lurvy ran for a pail of water. Fern climbed into the pen and knelt by Wilbur's side.

　　"It's sunstroke," said Zuckerman. "The heat is too much for him.""Maybe he's dead," said Avery.

　　"Come out of that pigpen immediately1" cried Mrs. Arable. Avery obeyed his mother and climbed into the back of the truck so he could see better. Lurvy returned with cold water and dashed it on Wilbur.

　　"Throw some on me!" cried Avery. "I'm hot, too.""Oh, keep quiet!" hollered Fern. "Keep qui-ut!" Her eyes were brimming with tears.

　　Wilbur, feeling the cold water, came to. He rose slowly to his feet, while the geese cheered.

　　He's up!" said Mr. Arable. "I guess there's nothing wrong with him.""I'm hungry," said Avery. "I want a candied apple.""Wilbur's all right now," said Fern. "We can start. I want to take a ride in the Ferris wheel."Mr. Zuckerman and Mr. Arable and Lurvy grabbed the pig and pushed him headfirst toward the crate. Wilbur began to struggle. The harder the men pushed, the harder he held back. Avery jumped down and joined the men. Wilbur kicked and thrashed and grunted. "Nothing wrong with this pig," said Mr. Zuckerman cheerfully, pressing his knee against Wilbur's behind. "All together, now, boys! Shove!"With a final heave they jammed him into the crate. The geese cheered. Lurvy nailed some boards across the end, so Wilbur couldn't back out. Then, using all their strength, the men picked up the crate and heaved it aboard the truck. They did not know that under the straw was a rat, and inside a knothole was a big grey spider. They saw only a pig.

　　"Everybody in!" called Mr. Arable. He started the motor. The ladies climbed in beside him. Mr. Zuckerman and Lurvy and Fern and Avery rode in back, hanging onto the sideboards. The truck began to move ahead. The geese cheered. The children answered their cheer, and away went everybody to the Fair.

 

　　展览会的前夜，每人都早早地上了床。芬和埃弗里八点就上床了。埃弗里梦见自己正高高地坐在展览会里的费里斯大转轮①上最高的位子里。芬则梦到自己在那大转轮上转迷糊了。

　　鲁维八点半上的床。他梦见自己在“布猫队”里（at a cloth cat）②打篮球赛，还赢得了一块真正的拿佛和③地毯。祖克曼先生和太太在九点上的床。祖克曼太太梦见了一排电冰箱。祖克曼先生梦见了威伯。他梦见威伯长到一一六尺长，九十二英尺高，赢得了展览会上的所有奖品。浑身披满蓝色的丝带，甚至尾巴尖上还系了一条蓝丝带。

　　谷仓下的地窖里的动物们也都早早的睡了，只除了夏洛。明天就要开展览会了，每个动物都打算早早起来为威伯这次伟大的冒险送行。

　　第二天，每个人都在黎明就起了床。那天很热。小路上头的阿拉贝尔家的房子里，芬往卧室拎了桶热水，用毛巾简单擦了个澡。然后她穿上了她最漂亮的衣服，因为她知道会在展览会上看到男孩们。阿拉贝尔太太把埃弗里的脖子后面擦了又擦，又往他的头上掸了些水，把他的头发往两边梳起来。她梳得非常用力，直到把头发梳干，竖立起来为止——结果除六根头发之外，其余的头发全都笔直地竖起来了。埃弗里穿上干净的内裤、牛仔裤，还有干净的衬衫。阿拉贝尔先生已经穿戴好了，吃完了早饭，就出去擦他的卡车了。他要开车把每个人送到展览会上，也包括威伯。

　　天刚亮，鲁维就在威伯的大板条箱里铺上干净的稻草，将箱子抬到了猪圈。这箱子是绿色的，上面写着金色的大字：祖克曼家的名猪。

　　夏洛为了展览会把她的网整修得很漂亮。威伯在慢慢吃他的早餐。他试图不让食物沾到他的耳朵上，好让自己的样子更加闪光。

　　祖克曼太太突然在厨房喊起来。

　　“霍默，”她对丈夫说，“我打算给那猪洗一个酸奶澡。”

　　“一个什么？”祖克曼先生说。

　　“一个酸奶澡。当猪变脏时我祖母就常用酸奶给它们洗澡——我才想起来。”

　　“威伯并不脏。”祖克曼先生骄傲地说。

　　“他的耳朵后面很脏，”祖克曼太太说，“每次鲁维喂他时，猪食都会溅到他的耳朵四周。它们干了以后就结成硬块儿了。他常躺在粪堆里的那边身子也有埋汰的地方。”

　　“他可是躺在干净的稻草上。”祖克曼先生更正。

　　“算了，他很脏，他需要洗澡。”

　　祖克曼先生只好无奈地坐下来，去吃油煎圈饼。他妻子向柴棚走去。当她回来时，脚上蹬了双水靴，身上穿了件旧雨衣，一手拎着一桶酸奶，一手拿着一把小木刷。

　　“伊迪丝，你疯了。”祖克曼小声嘀咕道。

　　但她没理他。他们一起往猪圈走去。祖克曼太太一点儿也没浪费时间，她爬进猪圈来到威伯身边就开始工作了。她用蘸着酸奶的刷子把威伯全身刷了个遍。母鹅一家都来参观这有趣的一幕，绵羊和羊羔也跑来看。甚至坦普尔曼也好奇地伸出脑袋，去看威伯洗酸奶澡。夏洛也很感兴趣，便随着一根长丝线从网上慢慢地荡下来，以便能看得更清楚。威伯安静地闭着眼站在那里。他能感觉酸奶流遍了全身。他张开嘴，一些酸奶便淌了进去。那味道可真好。他觉得自己是闪光的，他幸福极了。当祖克曼太太把他洗完擦干，他便成了一头你曾经见过的最干净，最漂亮的猪。他浑身雪白，耳朵和鼻子是粉红的，毛皮像缎子一样的光滑。

　　祖克曼一家回去穿上他们最好的衣服。鲁维去刮了脸，穿起他的格子衬衫，打上他的紫领带。动物们离开他们的住所涌进了谷仓。

　　七只小鹅在他们的妈妈周围转来转去地嚷起来。

　　“请，请，请带我们去参加展览会吧！”一只小鹅央求。接着所有的七只小鹅都乞求起来。

　　“请，请，请，请，请，请……”他们发出很大的吵闹声。

　　“孩子们！”母鹅尖叫，“我们要安静-静-静地呆在家里。只有威伯-伯-伯才去展览会。”

　　就在那时，夏洛打断了母鹅。

　　“我也去，”她轻轻地说，“我已经决定和威伯一起去了。他可能会需要我。我们不知展览会上可能发生什么意外。谁知道怎么写字可以和我一起去。我想坦普尔曼最好也去——我可能需要有人跑腿，做些复杂的工作。”

　　“我就在这儿呆着，”老鼠不满地说，“我对展览会一丁点儿兴趣都没有。”

　　“那是因为你从来没去过展览会，”老羊提醒道，“展览会是老鼠的天堂。展览会上的人都把食物乱丢。一只老鼠可以在夜里溜出去吃一顿宴席。在马厩你能找到马吃剩的燕麦，在有人迹的草地你会找到人们扔掉的午餐盒，里面有花生三明治，煮鸡蛋，面包渣，小块的油煎圈饼，还有干酪。当灯光熄灭，人们回家睡觉后，你还会在游乐场里到处都是的垃圾袋中间找到真正的财宝：碎爆米花，往下直淌的果冻，累了的孩子们丢下的蜜饯，水晶般闪光的糖球，咸杏仁，冰棒，一块被咬掉的冰激凌，带着小木棍儿的棒棒糖。对一个老鼠来说到处都可以掠夺——帐子里，摊床上，草堆中——为什么不去呢？一个展览会上有那么多美味的食物，足够一个老鼠大军吃的。”

　　坦普尔曼的眼睛放光了。

　　“是真的吗？”他问，“你是在馋我吧？我喜欢超值的享受，你说的完全打动了我。”

　　“真的，”老羊说，“去展览会吧，坦普尔曼。你会发现展览会上的好东西远比你最疯狂的梦里想出来的还多。上面沾满了好吃的东西的桶，吃剩的金枪鱼罐头，油腻腻的食品袋里装着的烂……”

　　“够了！”坦普尔曼叫，“不要再对我说了。我去。”

　　“很好，”夏洛说着，朝老羊挤挤眼睛，“那么现在——就没有太多的时间可以浪费了。威伯马上就会被放进板条箱。坦普尔曼和我也必须钻进板条箱躲起来。”

　　老鼠一分钟也没有耽误。他迅速地钻进了板条箱，爬到板条的缝隙间，又拉了几根稻草把自己盖上，这样便没人能看见他了。

　　“好，”夏洛说，“该我了。”她扯起一根长丝线，往空中荡去，轻轻地落到了箱子上。然后她爬进去，躲到箱子最上面的一块木板的结孔里。

　　老羊点点头。“多满的一箱子货！”她说，“那些金字应该改成‘祖克曼家的名猪与两名偷渡客’才对。”

　　“当心，人来-来-来了！”公鹅喊，“小心，小心，小心！”

　　阿拉贝尔开着大卡车慢慢地倒进谷仓的空地。鲁维和祖克曼先生在边上跟着走。芬和埃弗里正站在卡车的后车厢里，手抓着护栏。

　　“听我说，”老羊对威伯耳语，“当他们打开箱子想把你装进去时，你要挣扎！不要不经过争斗就走。当猪被装进车里他们总是要反抗的。”

　　“如果我挣扎会被弄脏的。”威伯说。

　　“别管那些——照我说的做！挣扎！如果你毫无反抗地走进箱子，祖克曼可能会以为你有毛病了，那时他就不敢送你去参加展览会了。”

　　坦普尔曼从稻草里探出了头。”如果你要挣扎，“他说，”一定要好心肠地想到，那时我正在板条箱里躲着呢。我可不想被踩瘪，或者被踢花脸，或者被揍伤，或者被压坏任何地方，或者被挤扁，或者被打晕，或者被打青，或者被擦破皮，或者落个疤，或者受到别的什么重击。你挣扎时一定要看着点儿，闪光先生，当他们把你往箱子里推的时候！”

　　“安静，坦普尔曼！”老羊说，“把你的脑袋缩回去——他们正在走过来。看起来闪光点，威伯！往里躲，夏洛！大声的叫，鹅们！”

　　卡车慢慢地倒进了猪圈，停了下来。阿拉贝尔先生关上发动机，下车走到卡车后面，放下尾板。鹅们欢叫起来。阿拉贝尔太太下了卡车。芬和埃弗里跳到地面上。祖克曼太太正从房子里走过来。每个人都来到栅栏前，欣赏了一会儿威伯和那个美丽的绿板条箱。没人知道箱子里已经装进了一只老鼠和蜘蛛了。

　　“那真是头好猪！” 阿拉贝尔太太说。

　　“他很棒。”鲁维说。

　　“他是闪光的。”芬说着，想起了他生下来的那天。

　　“是的，”祖克曼太太说，“怎么看他都非常干净。这都是酸奶的功效。”

　　阿拉贝尔先生仔细观察着威伯。“是的，他是一头完美的猪，”他说，“很难相信他当初是那一窝里最瘦小的一头。你将能用它做特别好的火腿和腌肉，霍默，当那头猪被宰的时候。”

　　听到这些话，威伯的心跳几乎都停住了。“我想我要昏过去了。”他轻声对在一边看着的老羊说。

　　“跪下来！”老羊低叫，“让血液倒流到你的头上！”

　　威伯跪下去，身上所有的闪光都消失了。他的眼睛阖上了。

　　“看呐！”芬尖叫，“他的光彩消失了！”

　　“嘿，看我！”埃弗里叫罢，匍匐着爬进了板条箱。“我是一头猪！我是一头猪！”

　　埃弗里的脚踩到了稻草下面的坦普尔曼。“真倒霉！”老鼠想，“男孩子是多么可怕的动物！我为什么要让自己到这里来受罪？”

　　鹅们看到埃弗里进了箱子，都一齐喝起彩来。

　　“埃弗里，你马上给我从箱子里出来！”他的母亲命令道，“你以为你是什么？”

　　“我是一头猪！”埃弗里叫着，将满把的稻草扬向空中，“哼，哼，哼！”

　　“卡车开走了，爸。”芬说。

　　卡车突然间失去了控制，向下坡滑去。阿拉贝尔先生冲进驾驶室，去拉紧急制动闸。卡车停住了。鹅们欢呼。夏洛蜷起身子，使自己尽可能小地缩到那结孔里，这样才不会被埃弗里发现。

　　“马上出来！” 阿拉贝尔太太喊。埃弗里手脚并用爬出了板条箱，对威伯做了一个鬼脸。威伯已经昏过去了。

　　“那头猪昏倒了，”祖克曼太太说，“给他泼点儿水！”

　　“泼酸奶！”埃弗里建议。

　　鹅们又大叫起来。

　　鲁维向水桶跑去。芬爬进猪圈在威伯身边跪下来观察。

　　“它中暑了，”祖克曼说，“他受不了这么热的天气。”

　　“他可能死了。”埃弗里说。

　　“你给我立刻离开猪圈！”阿拉贝尔太太喊。埃弗里听从了母亲的吩咐，爬上卡车后座。鲁维带着冷水回来了，把水淋到了威伯身上。

　　“给我也淋点儿水！”埃弗里叫，“我也热。”

　　“噢，安静！”芬喊，“安-静！”她眼里满是泪水。

　　威伯被冷水一激，就恢复了知觉。在鹅们的叫声里，他缓缓地站了起来。

　　“他站起来了！”阿拉贝尔先生说，“我猜他就没什么毛病嘛。”

　　“我饿了，”埃弗里说，“我要吃苹果蜜饯。”

　　“威伯现在没事了，”芬说，“我们可以出发了，我要去坐费里斯大转轮。”

　　祖克曼先生和阿拉贝尔先生还有鲁维抓住了猪，把他头朝前往板条箱里推。威伯开始挣扎了。男人们推得越厉害，他就往回顶得越凶。埃弗里也跳过来帮忙。威伯胡噜胡噜地叫着又踢又蹬。“这头猪没毛病，”祖克曼先生高兴地说着，用膝盖顶着威伯的身体后部，“现在，大家一起用力，孩子们，推！”

　　随着一声欢呼，他们终于把威伯塞进了板条箱。鹅们又叫起来。鲁维在箱子上钉了几根钉子，这样威伯就跑不出来了。接着，男人们用着全身的力气把箱子抬上了卡车。他们不知道箱子里的稻草中躲着一只老鼠，一个木板结孔里还趴着一只大灰蜘蛛。他们看到的仅仅是一头猪。

　　“大家上车！”阿拉贝尔先生招呼道。他发动了卡车。女士们跟着他进了驾驶室里。祖克曼先生和鲁维还有芬、埃弗里上了后车厢，手抓着护栏。卡车开始往前开了。鹅们欢呼起来。孩子们也一同欢呼着。所有的人都离开这里，往郡农业展览会场去。

 

　　注释① 费里斯大转轮（The Ferris Wheel），也译作阜氏大轮，是一种供游戏的竖立大轮，即大观览车。轮缘装有座位，供人回旋。

　　注释② a cloth cat：怀疑是美国篮球队的名字，具体不详。

　　注释③ 拿佛和（Navajo），居于美国Arizona，New mexico以及Utah各州保留地的一支印第安主要种族。