Follow the Wind (19 page)
Authors: Don Coldsmith
One more night
the young couple spent in their retreat. It had been late afternoon by the time the attack of Lean Bull took place, too late to do anything but prepare for the night.
the young couple spent in their retreat. It had been late afternoon by the time the attack of Lean Bull took place, too late to do anything but prepare for the night.
The episode had brought them even closer together, but for them, the magic of their secret glen had been destroyed. It could never be the same for them after the presence of the intruder. Both knew, by the time they arose, that the day had come to return to the People.
The preparations for departure took somewhat longer than necessary. Both young people were reluctant to leave. There seemed the vague hope that somehow the event of the previous afternoon would prove not to have happened. But it was not to be. The presence of the enemy warrior's horse, tethered and grazing in the little meadow, was a reminder.
They made a small pack of their remaining food and rolled their sleeping robes for traveling. They had walked in, to avoid the inconvenience of caring for horses. Now they chose to walk on their return, allowing the horse to carry their possessions.
Sun Boy was just past the top of his daily run when they approached the village. Children ran ahead with news of their return and that the couple had somehow acquired an elk-dog!
There were many exclamations of surprise as the story of Lean Bull's attack was related.
“He must have watched us for days,” Cabeza confided to Heads Off.
“Yes, I had forgotten that he vowed vengeance at the creek. That was careless of me, Ramon!”
“My friend, I am the careless one! We were very lucky!”
It had been decided during the absence of the newlyweds that the entire band would move, to travel with the visitors for a time toward the winter camp. A site had been chosen to the southeast, one of perennial appeal to the People. It was of value not only for its sheltered location, but for its great beauty. For many winters, this had been one of the favorite places for the Elk-dog band and they returned every few seasons.
Word of the move passed through the band. It would be three days hence and those who were belated in their preparations began frantically packing belongings in the rawhide packs.
Sun Boy was hardly up on the morning of departure before the first of the big lodges came down. Each family worked to fold and pack the lodge cover on a pole-drag, along with their personal effects. Young men rounded up the loose horses of the band, holding them in a nearby meadow until the procession was under way. The horse herd would bring up the rear, to avoid creating dust in the column itself.
It was on the second afternoon of travel that they encountered the Head Splitters. Cabeza, riding at the front of the column with Heads Off, Long Elk, and Sanchez, reached for his lance.
“No, put it away, Ramon,” chuckled Heads Off. “There will be no fighting.”
“These are not Head Splitters?”
“Yes, but they have their women and children with them and so do we. Neither group will risk a fight.”
The two columns circled warily and soon, in the manner Cabeza had already seen, three men detached themselves from the other party and cantered forward.
“Long Elk, Ramon, come.” The chief casually kneed his horse forward.
“Ah-koh,”
the enemy chief greeted, extending his right hand upward, palm forward. Then he began to signal.
the enemy chief greeted, extending his right hand upward, palm forward. Then he began to signal.
“You have found good hunting?”
“Yes,” answered Heads Off, also in hand talk. “Very good. The weather is good.”
Cabeza was dumbfounded. He was certain these were men of the same band they had visited and later fought. Yet here they sat, calmly talking about the weather with their mortal enemies.
“The Hair-faces winter with you?”
“No, they go south. Some of us go with them.”
An animated conversation had now started between two of the Head Splitters, with one pointing to Cabeza's horse.
“That is the horse of Lean Bull,” signed one.
Cabeza shook his head.
“That is the horse of
me,”
he gestured. “It was the horse of Lean Bull when he was alive.”
me,”
he gestured. “It was the horse of Lean Bull when he was alive.”
There were exclamations of surprise and awe. Obviously, these warriors did not know until now of Lean Bull's demise.
“One of our women killed him,” Long Elk shrugged matter-of-factly.
This was the ultimate in insults, a twisting of the thorn in the flesh. Considering the Head Splitters' low esteem of women, there could be no worse way to meet one's death than at the hands of one of the women of the People.
“Lean Bull was crazy anyway,” observed the Head Splitter chief.
It seemed a good place to end the conversation and Heads Off calmly reined his horse around. The Head Splitters gripped their weapons, but made no overt move. The emissaries rode slowly back toward their own groups.
“I don't understand, Juan. There is no fighting? You talked to their chief almost like old friends.”
“What would you do, Ramon? Neither side can afford to start anything. We will fight another time. Long Elk did overdo the thing about our women a little,” he chuckled. “Did you see how furious they were?”
“Do you meet them often like this?”
“Yes, nearly every year. It's a time for swapping threats about what we'll do to each other next time. Nothing ever comes of it.”
The two columns circled cautiously and moved on. No more Head Splitters were seen.
With good weather holding and easy traveling, the People reached winter camp in good condition. The temptation to stay was strong for Cabeza, but responsibility prevailed and, after a day's final preparation, the party set off for the long trip to the coast.
For the young Elk-dog men, it was an exciting adventure, a chance to see new country. For the others, each step was nearer home. South Wind, alone, was leaving the land of her home, probably never to return. She was so completely occupied, however, with the joy of her marriage to Cabeza, that Heads Off was certain she would do well. Many men, he knew, took foreign wives back to Spain and South Wind should be able to hold her own anywhere.
The girl turned to wave once more as the group set off.
Travel was rapid, much more so than with the entire band. This was a party composed of horsemen, mobile and well armed. They were able to achieve much better speed, in fact, than on the trip north. Now there was no uncertainty, no question as to their goal. They could push ahead as fast as horses and riders were able to tolerate.
Perhaps one of the more striking differences on this trip was the change in Sanchez. The little man had seemed to grow in stature and in self-esteem. He had become quite a respectable marksman with the crossbow. He had friends now among the lancers. Even his relationship to Lizard was changed. It was amazing to see how the stresses of the expedition, the imminent threat of death, had hardened and tempered the soft personality into a keen and resilient individual.
Much of this was merely noticed by the others and was completely overlooked by Sanchez. In his mind, he only wished to get back to civilization, as represented by an everpresent supply of food and wine and the occasional comfort of a
feminine companion. He had completely forgotten that one of his original aims for this expedition was the opportunity to steal from those who had more than Sanchez. And that, of course, was practically everyone.
feminine companion. He had completely forgotten that one of his original aims for this expedition was the opportunity to steal from those who had more than Sanchez. And that, of course, was practically everyone.
It was not
until many months later that Sanchez actually became objective in his thinking. He was sitting in the dim of a musty cantina, where he had spent many of his waking hours since his return. He was surrounded by friends. He had friends most of the time now, since he had money.
until many months later that Sanchez actually became objective in his thinking. He was sitting in the dim of a musty cantina, where he had spent many of his waking hours since his return. He was surrounded by friends. He had friends most of the time now, since he had money.
Sanchez was recalling the many things which had happened to him in the past two years. Their trip home had been unremarkable. They had found the garrison on the river without event and suffered a severe verbal reprimand for crossing the river from the officer in charge. When he learned they had no more silver, even that subsided.
The officer cast covetous glances at South Wind, but Cabeza's attitude clearly said that he would tolerate no nonsense. Even had Cabeza not been present, many of the party would cheerfully have given their lives in the defense of the spirited girl. It had not been forgotten that she had been their only warning of treachery by the Head Splitters.
So it happened that Sergeant Perez had been obliged to give some fatherly advice in due course of time. Noticing
a lustful leer on the face of the officer as he watched the swing of South Wind's graceful body, the grizzled sergeant had sidled close.
a lustful leer on the face of the officer as he watched the swing of South Wind's graceful body, the grizzled sergeant had sidled close.
“Lieutenant, she killed a man once for a look no worse than that. If she hadn't, I have at least six men who would have.”
The lieutenant was impressed enough by the tone and obvious sincerity that he did not proceed to question the precise accuracy of the remark. However, he kept his thoughts more carefully concealed.
Oliviera had sailed the
Paloma
into the bay at precisely the appointed time. They had bid good-bye to Lizard with some regret. He had become well respected for his contribution. He was also an influential man among his own people now.
Paloma
into the bay at precisely the appointed time. They had bid good-bye to Lizard with some regret. He had become well respected for his contribution. He was also an influential man among his own people now.
A similar melancholy had fallen over the little group when they reached home shores. They had given much, had invested a portion of their lives in each other. It was hard to think that they would never be together again.
The attorney of Don Pedro Garcia had talked to them. The old man had set up an intricate plan to pay bonus money in addition to their regular pay for those who successfully returned. Sanchez, in the event of success in the finding of Juan Garcia, was to receive a handsome stipend, which was now awarded to him. Likewise, Ramon Cabeza was well rewarded.
Then the group had scattered. The Garcia servants, of course, would return to the service of
Doña
Isabel Garcia.
Doña
Isabel Garcia.
Several of the professional soldiers found jobs waiting for men of such experience in the New World.
Ramon Cabeza had nearly decided that the life of a professional soldier was not to his liking. Now that he was a married man, it seemed hardly a fit existence. Consequently, it was without great regret that he accepted his father's suggestion. The elder Cabeza, failing in health, wished to turn over the reins of his vast ranch holdings to his son. Immediately, Ramon Cabeza hired Sergeant Perez to help manage the horse-breeding portion of the Cabeza interests.
Sanchez, for his part, had been drunk for two weeks. None of the cheap red house wine for this man of means. He ordered only the best and the innkeepers were happy to oblige.
To take advantage, even, of the fact that Sanchez really knew very little of any but the poorest of wines.
To take advantage, even, of the fact that Sanchez really knew very little of any but the poorest of wines.
And he had been surrounded by friends. Never, in all his life, had he had so many. Sanchez bought round after round of wine and the parties lasted until far into the small hours. Sometimes all night.
Just now he was drunk, a little sad, and feeling very sorry for one Sanchez. He sipped his good red wine and only felt worse. A tawdry bar girl tried to sit on his lap and he pushed her gently away. He needed to think.
Why, in Christ's name, why? How could anyone, surrounded by food, wine, and friends, feel unhappy? In a half-drunken stupor, he tried to remember how it had been before he had money. He remembered that he had usually drunk alone. An acquaintance staggered past, arm around the waist of a hard-looking woman. He stopped and, above the din of the crowd in the inn, shouted in Sanchez's ear.
“Hey,
amigo,
we need more wine!”
amigo,
we need more wine!”
Automatically, Sanchez reached into the purse at his belt and tossed a couple of gold coins to the innkeeper. The man nodded, pleased, and scurried off to the cellar.
The other customer gave Sanchez a drunken smile and pounded him heartily across the shoulders. Strange, thought Sanchez, I thought it felt good for people to like me. It had, on the prairies of New Spain. He had relished the respect that he had felt from the other members of the party. And he had had no money then.
It was all very puzzling, the more so since he was so very drunk. His fuzzy thoughts refused to congeal and he tried to focus them.
Let's see now, that one had just asked him for more money for wine. What if he had had no more money? Would he have no more friends? He looked around at an unkempt individual sleeping with his head on the next table, his wine spilling into his beard. He couldn't even remember the man's name.
He could remember the names of men who had respected him in New Spain. Cabeza, Perez, Don Pedro, Lizard, yes, even Heads Off, Long Elk, and Standing Bird.
A tear of self-pity ran down the cheek of Sanchez and
dropped into his wine. He wished he were with some of those companions, men with whom he had shared and suffered.
dropped into his wine. He wished he were with some of those companions, men with whom he had shared and suffered.
Perez had gone to work for Ramon Cabeza. He, Sanchez, had never had employment, had little understanding of what it meant. But Perez could do it. It would mean being with men he had come to admire. Maybe Cabeza would hire him, Sanchez. It would do no harm to ask.
Sanchez stood, a little unsteady on his feet, but standing taller and with more pride than at any time since he was paid and said good-bye to the others. He threaded his way among the tables toward the door. The innkeeper, alarmed at the threat of losing his best paying customer, scurried after him.
“Señor
Sanchez,” he fawned, “we need more money for the wine and the dancers.”
Sanchez,” he fawned, “we need more money for the wine and the dancers.”
Sanchez looked at the man for a long moment, then slowly reached into his leather purse and drew out a handful of gold and silver coins of various denominations. He let them drop slowly through his fingers to bounce on the puncheon floor. The innkeeper scuttled around, trying to pick them up.
Sanchez glanced back at the revelers, dancing, drinking, staggering. One man crouched in a corner, vomiting from overindulgence, and a girl laughed drunkenly. Sanchez turned back to the barkeep.
“When that is gone,” he said, pointing to the handful of coins, “throw them out!”
He passed through the doorway and out into the cool night air. He threw back his shoulders and strode purposefully down the street. He would go in the morning to talk to Cabeza. It could do no harm.
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