When Father Ramírez heard that the fiercest and most rebellious of all the tribes were those upon the Peñol at Ácoma, he besought the custodian to be sent thither. This intrepid priest believed himself so endowed with grace of heaven that he could succeed where during forty years Spanish arms had failed. The legend is that he ascended the cliff, though with great difficulty, having no other defence than his breviary and his cross, and that so soon as he was seen by the savages, they pelted him with enough arrows to destroy a dozen men, but not one even pierced his habit—a thing so strange that even his would-be murderers thought it a miracle and were sore afraid. Moreover, it happened that a little girl of eight years was accidentally pushed over the brink in the tumult of the riotous savages on the summit, and fell among the cruel rocks sixty feet below. Ramírez went to her, knelt beside her, and prayed over her, and soon led her quite unharmed up to her amazed kinsfolk, who received her with fond caresses. Now they looked upon the Father as one more than human and soon became his disciples. History does not always sustain the poetic overlay of fact, for in this case the records say positively that Ramírez was escorted to the Peñol by Governor Silva. A second quaint story of a “Religious” who can be no other than Ramírez is told by Benavides. The Father, after recounting his own success among the Indians of Taos, writes as follows of the Crag of Ácoma, at that time apparently hostile to the invading Spaniards: