This statement was apparently utterly funny because they all roared with laughter, including don Juan. When they had quieted down, I asked in all earnestness, 'Is it really true? This really happened?'
Still laughing, John replied: 'I swear my dog really pissed on you.'
Driving back to don Juan's place I asked him: 'Did all that really happen, don Juan?'
'Yes,' he said, 'but they don't know what you saw. They don't realize you were playing with «him». That is why I did not disturb you.'
'But is this business of the dog and me pissing on each other true?'
'It was not a dog! How many times do I have to tell you that? This is the only way to understand it. It's the only way! It was «he» who played with you.'
'Did you know all this was happening before I told you about it?'
He vacillated for an instant before answering. 'No, I remembered, after you told me about it, the strange way you looked. I just suspected you were doing fine because you didn't seem scared.'
'Did the dog really play with me as they say?' 'Goddammit! It was not a dog!'
I told don Juan how I felt about my experience. From the point of view of my intended work it had been a disastrous event. I said I did not care for another similar 'encounter' with Mescalito. I agreed that everything that had happened to me had been more than interesting, but added that nothing in it could really move me towards seeking it again. I seriously believed that I was not constructed for that type of endeavour. Peyote had produced in me, as a post-reaction, a strange kind of physical discomfort. It was an indefinite fear or unhappiness; a melancholy of some sort, which I could not define exactly. And I did not find that state noble in any way.
Don Juan laughed and said, 'You are beginning to learn.' 'This type of learning is not for me. I am not made for it, don Juan.'
'You always exaggerate.' 'This is not exaggeration.'
'It is. The only trouble is that you exaggerate the bad points only.'
'There are no good points so far as I am concerned. All I know is that it makes me afraid.'
'There is nothing wrong with being afraid. When you fear, you see things in a different way.'
'But I don't care about seeing things in a different way, don Juan. I think I am going to leave the learning about Mescalito alone. I can't handle it, don Juan. This is really a bad situation for me.'
'Of course it is bad — even for me. You are not the only one who is baffled.'
'Why should you be baffled, don Juan?'
'I have been thinking about what I saw the other night. Mescalito actually played with you. That baffled me, because it was an indication [omen].'
'What kind of — indication, don Juan?'
'Mescalito was pointing you out to me.'
'What for?'
'It wasn't clear to me then, but now it is. He meant you were the «chosen man» [escogido], Mescalito pointed you out to me and by doing that he told me you were the chosen man.'
'Do you mean I was chosen among others for some task, or something of the sort?'
'No. What I mean is, Mescalito told me you could be the man I am looking for.'
'When did he tell you that, don Juan?'
'By playing with you, he told me that. This makes you the chosen man for me.'
'What does it mean to be the chosen man?'
'There are some secrets I know [Tengo secretes], I have secrets I won't be able to reveal to anyone unless I find my chosen man. The other night when I saw you playing with Mescalito it was clear to me you were that man. But you are not an Indian. How baffling!'
'But what does it mean to me, don Juan? What do I have to do?'
'I've made up my mind and I am going to teach you the secrets that make up the lot of a man of knowledge.'
'Do you mean the secrets about Mescalito?'
'Yes, but those are not all the secrets I know. There are others, of a different kind, which I would like to give to someone. I had a teacher myself, my benefactor, and I also became his chosen man upon performing a certain feat. He taught me all I know.'
I asked him again what this new role would require of me; he said learning was the only thing involved, learning in the sense of what I had experienced in the two sessions with him.
The way in which the situation had evolved was quite strange. I had made up my mind to tell him I was going to give up the idea of learning about peyote, and then before I could really make my point, he offered to teach me his 'knowledge'. I did not know what he meant by that, but I felt that this sudden turn was very serious. I argued I had no qualifications for such a task, as it required a rare kind of courage which I did not have. I told him that my bent of character was to talk about acts others performed. I wanted to hear his views and opinions about everything. I told him I could be happy if I could sit there and listen to him talk for days. To me, that would be learning.
He listened without interrupting me. I talked for a long time. Then he said:
'All this is very easy to understand. Fear is the first natural enemy a man must overcome on his path to knowledge. Besides, you are curious. That evens up the score. And you will learn in spite of yourself; that's the rale.'
I protested for a while longer, trying to dissuade him. But he seemed to be convinced there was nothing else I could do but learn.
'You are not thinking in the proper order,' he said. 'Mescalito actually played with you. That's the point to think about. Why don't you dwell on that instead of on your fear?'
'Was it so unusual?'
'You are the only person I have ever seen playing with him. You are not used to this kind of life; therefore the indications [omens] bypass you. Yet you are a serious person, but your seriousness is attached to what you do, not to what goes on outside you. You dwell upon yourself too much. That's the trouble. And that produces a terrible fatigue.'
'But what else can anyone do, don Juan?
'Seek and see the marvels all around you. You will get tired of looking at yourself alone, and that fatigue will make you deaf and blind to everything else.'
'You have a point, don Juan, but how can I change?'
'Think about the wonder of Mescalito playing with you. Think about nothing else: The rest will come to you of itself.'
Last night don Juan proceeded to usher me into the realm of his knowledge. We sat in front of his house in the dark. Suddenly, after a long silence, he began to talk. He said he was going to advise me with the same words his own benefactor had used the first day he took him as his apprentice. Don Juan had apparently memorized the words, for he repeated them several times, to make sure I did not miss any:
'A man goes to knowledge as he goes to war, wide-awake, with fear, with respect, and with absolute assurance. Going to knowledge or going to war in any other manner is a mistake, and whoever makes it will live to regret his steps.'
I asked him why was it so and he said that when a man has fulfilled those four requisites there are no mistakes for which he will have to account; under such conditions his acts lose the blundering quality of a fool's acts. If such a man fails, or suffers a defeat, he will have lost only a battle, and there will be no pitiful regrets over that.
Then he said he intended to teach me about an 'ally' in the very same way his own benefactor had taught him. He put strong emphasis on the words 'very same way', repeating the phrase several times.
An 'ally', he said, is a power a man can bring into his life to help him, advise him, and give him the strength necessary to perform acts, whether big or small, right or wrong. This ally is necessary to enhance a man's life, guide his acts, and further his knowledge. In fact, an ally is the indispensable aid to knowing. Don Juan said this with great conviction and force. He seemed to choose his words carefully. He repeated the following sentence four times:
