Follow the Wind (5 page)
Authors: Don Coldsmith
Cabeza had done
some very deep thinking as a result of the incident just past. There had come a sense of responsibility that he felt forced upon him. At the beginning of the expedition, he had envisioned himself as merely an officer of lancers. The party was under command of the
Señor
Garcia, for whom he had complete respect and loyalty. It would be guided by Sanchez, whose job it was to show the way, regardless of what anyone else thought of him as a person.
some very deep thinking as a result of the incident just past. There had come a sense of responsibility that he felt forced upon him. At the beginning of the expedition, he had envisioned himself as merely an officer of lancers. The party was under command of the
Señor
Garcia, for whom he had complete respect and loyalty. It would be guided by Sanchez, whose job it was to show the way, regardless of what anyone else thought of him as a person.
Now, Cabeza was forced to re-evaluate his own position. The incident back in the Caddo village had made a number of facts quite clear. Don Pedro could easily become unstable enough to exhibit poor judgment. In addition, he was, after all, an old man. He could easily fall victim to an illness or accident. Then he, Ramon Cabeza, would have to assume command of the party, because there was no one else to do so. Somehow, Cabeza had overlooked this fact. He had grown up with the image of the elder Garcia before him as an invincible figure. It was with a great deal of misgiving that he thought of attempting to fill such mighty boots.
And then there was Sanchez. Cabeza suspected, of course, that the devious little man had very little knowledge of where he was leading them. Despite this, Sanchez's story had been accurate thus far. Cabeza was inclined to listen to him, though not to trust him to any extent.
He now realized, however, that if anything happened to Sanchez, as it nearly had last night, that they would be in a strange country without a guide.
Perhaps Lizard could be of helpâif he could talk to him. Would it be possible to learn the language of the other? It seemed too difficult a task. He noticed, however, that when Lizard conversed with Sanchez, he always used many exaggerated gestures.
Cabeza asked Sanchez about this as they rode.
“Who knows?” shrugged Sanchez. “They talk with their hands.”
So the gesturing has no significance, at least to Sanchez. The lieutenant thought it over more fully and was still certain that something has meaning. Lizard, he recalled, whenever he used the term “hair-face,” always accompanied the words with a motion of his hand along his jaw. Cabeza determined to try an experiment.
During the noon halt, he managed to sit near Lizard. He still wondered exactly how he would accomplish this. Then he noticed a lancer near them who had a full beard. It was a magnificent brush, actually something of a legend among the lancers. Cabeza caught Lizard's eye, pointed to the dozing lancer, and made the little hand motion along the jaw. Lizard looked startled, then burst into laughter, nodding vigorously.
“Hair-face!
Big
hair-face!”
Big
hair-face!”
As he said the words, Lizard repeated the hand sign, adding a gesture that could only be translated as “big.”
Aha, thought Cabeza. It
is
a hand sign thing. He must learn more. He picked up his waterskin and took a sip, then offered it to Lizard with a gesture he hoped would be interpreted as a question. The other nodded, pointed to the stream nearby, and made a hand sign with a fluttering, flowing motion of the fingers. Of course! “Water.”
is
a hand sign thing. He must learn more. He picked up his waterskin and took a sip, then offered it to Lizard with a gesture he hoped would be interpreted as a question. The other nodded, pointed to the stream nearby, and made a hand sign with a fluttering, flowing motion of the fingers. Of course! “Water.”
By the time they resumed travel, Cabeza understood the
signs for several common words. He was elated, but probably no more so than Lizard. The young native was eager to show him more signs.
signs for several common words. He was elated, but probably no more so than Lizard. The young native was eager to show him more signs.
Sanchez, of course, was irritable and moody. He resented the fact that, suddenly, Cabeza could communicate with their interpreter better than he. In addition, both were obviously enjoying it.
As the days passed and the party traveled further north, Cabeza became more adept at the use of the signs. He was constantly amazed at the breadth of ideas that could be transmitted in this way.
After many sleeps, the travelers had entered a gradually changing landscape; the plain was more rolling, the grasses taller. In some areas, there were sizable valleys and hillsides covered with trees, most of which appeared to be various species of oaks. At one vantage point where they paused for a noon rest, it was possible to see for great distances in any direction. With this advantage, it was apparent that there was a rather abrupt line running in the general direction of their travel. To the east of this wavering margin were the tree-covered hills and valleys. To the west stretched the rolling plain, as far as the eye could see, finally becoming lost in the blue of distance. The party swung slightly to the west for easier traveling in the grassland when the march resumed.
It was toward evening of the same day that they sighted the smoke of a village ahead. To the travelers' surprise, the dwellings were completely different from the thatched square houses of the Caddoes. These were grass structures, but shaped like beehives in appearance, with pointed tops.
Lizard approached some of the inhabitants and, in due time, the party was ushered forward to a larger structure in the center of the village. This, they assumed, was this group's version of the council house.
Cabeza was uneasy about entering. The openings, one on each side, were only waist-high. His military mind rebelled at the idea of entering practically on all fours in a completely defenseless stance. He managed to step quickly through and straighten as rapidly as possible. He glanced around the large circular room but found nothing threatening. The entrances
were well planned for defense, he conceded. Any enemy must enter one at a timeâand in a defenseless position. The major threat to the defenders would be that the attackers could use fire. The dry grass thatch would be terribly vulnerable.
were well planned for defense, he conceded. Any enemy must enter one at a timeâand in a defenseless position. The major threat to the defenders would be that the attackers could use fire. The dry grass thatch would be terribly vulnerable.
The visitors were seated on the white clay floor across from the leaders of the village and a parlay began. Lizard explained their mission and the usual small gifts were distributed.
It was at about this time that Cabeza made a startling observation. Most of the dialogue was carried on in the sign language. As he observed further, it became apparent that Lizard spoke very little of the language of these savages. Likewise, they understood little of his.
It had not occurred to the young lieutenant that here was an entirely different nation, with not only different dwellings, but different customs and language. Then the people of the skin tents as described by Sanchez must be yet another group, with their own language.
Cabeza's most significant observation, however, was that he was able to understand much of the dialogue in sign talk. How valuable, he immediately recognized, to be able to communicate with various tribes they encountered. He resolved to observe closely and master the skill, with the help of Lizard.
Yes, the village chiefs were signing, they had seen Hair-faces before. No, they knew of none living with the natives. They had been only passing through.
For some reason, it seemed that Don Pedro was now less impatient than before his great disappointment. He seemed willing to accept the statements of the natives at face value. At least, they knew of Hair-faces. This proved that some Spaniards had previously traveled this way. One of these could easily have been Juan Garcia.
Perhaps it was only that the contact with a new and different tribe signified progress to the travelers. Whatever the reason, as they settled in for the night, there was a new feeling of optimism in their encampment.
Sanchez brooded over
the obvious delight that Lizard was exhibiting in teaching the sign talk. Cabeza was quick to learn and soon could understand most of the exchange between the interpreter and the leaders of various groups they encountered.
the obvious delight that Lizard was exhibiting in teaching the sign talk. Cabeza was quick to learn and soon could understand most of the exchange between the interpreter and the leaders of various groups they encountered.
However, the lieutenant sensed that Sanchez resented his intrusion. He elected to remain aloof during the parlays with the natives. It was more expedient at times anyway for the other party to be unaware that one of the Hair-faces understood their sign talk.
One wizened chief went so far as to approach Lizard with a suggestion that they could contrive together to defraud the travelers out of more gifts and trinkets. Lizard was appropriately indignant, but the spectacular response was on the part of Cabeza,. The lieutenant had caught enough of the drift of talk to recognize the attempt at subterfuge. He rose haughtily and, ignoring the chief, spoke in sign talk directly to Lizard.
“Come! We will waste no talk with this fool!”
He turned on his heel and left the parlay, while the faces of the natives remained frozen in shocked surprise.
It was noted at the next village that there was a great deal of deference to the travelers. They had long since realized that word was preceding them, telling of their coming. There was some discussion around the campfire as to how this might be accomplished. Some thought the native drums might echo a message, others that it was done with smoke signals. They had seen both during their travels.
Finally, Cabeza realized what should have been obvious all along. They could ask Lizard. With a combination of signs and Spanish, he broached the question. Lizard shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious.
“Men run ahead!”
The party laughed uproariously. The mood was good. It had remained optimistic since Don Pedro's change of attitude at the first of the beehive villages. Now the old don was very nearly his enthusiastic self again. He seemed to have accepted the fact that there would be many weeks of travel and search.
Sanchez still carefully concealed the fact that he had no clear idea of their direction. He was beginning to be painfully aware of the fact that a showdown might ultimately be necessary. To cover his subterfuge, he pretended to recognize landmarks. He would stare at a uniquely shaped hill in the distance and nod, as if to himself, in satisfaction.
In actuality, he recognized nothing at all. He had paid no attention to direction, even, on his previous expedition. One hill or grove or stream looked pretty much like another to him. He did take pains to keep the south wind at their backs and to keep pointing north. The country was greener and more pleasant here, which increased the general mood of optimism.
They now saw more herds of the strange humpbacked cattle and the herds were larger. The animals showed no fear, but only raised shaggy heads to stare curiously as they passed. Sanchez described, during a noon halt, how the lancers on the previous expedition had delighted in hunting the animals. He recalled that they had furnished much meat for the party.
The lancers needed little encouragement. Before the evening halt, they had secured a fat young cow. That evening, the gentle
warm breeze was scented with the sweet aroma of broiling buffalo hump. Sanchez, though remembering little of practical use, had retained the memory that this was the choicest of cuts. The others readily agreed and the entire party gorged themselves on the rich meat.
warm breeze was scented with the sweet aroma of broiling buffalo hump. Sanchez, though remembering little of practical use, had retained the memory that this was the choicest of cuts. The others readily agreed and the entire party gorged themselves on the rich meat.
Next day, they encountered another new experience. A village, seen from afar by the pall of smoke hanging over the area, proved to be that of yet another tribe. These people lived in a sort of half-buried house, partly in and partly above the ground. The exposed portion appeared to be constructed of poles and brush.
These natives were also cultivating fields of maize, pumpkins, and a sort of bean. They were called the Growers, Lizard informed the others. He had heard of them, though he did not understand their language.
The Growers proved to be a very hospitable people. They carried on a system of trade with other tribes, it appeared, exchanging the products of their agriculture for meat and skins from the hunting tribes.
“Ask them more of the hunters,” urged Cabeza. It was becoming apparent that the nomadic people of the skin tents described by Sanchez would be hunters.
Yes, came the answer, without hesitation. There were several groups. The Growers traded indiscriminately with them all, though there was often war between the different tribes of hunters.
Was there any among them with hair on the face?
The Growers conversed among themselves for a time, then one answered, using sign talk.
They had seen no hair-face, but there was said to be one, much further north. He was a mighty chief, it was said, hated by his enemies. There was a tale that he had met in combat with Gray Wolf, a great chief of the tribe known as Head Splitters. The hair-faced one had killed Gray Wolf, bringing much prestige to his own people.
Where could more be learned? The Growers were unanimous on this point. To the north!
Now even Sanchez was excited. He had completely forgotten that he had originally considered this a useless fiasco,
designed only for his own possible enrichment. Sanchez was now as convinced as anyone that it might be possible to find Juan Garcia.
designed only for his own possible enrichment. Sanchez was now as convinced as anyone that it might be possible to find Juan Garcia.
Cabeza, for his part, was concerned with so much optimism. He remembered only too well the near tragedy that had resulted from the last disappointment. Don Pedro, it could be clearly seen, was burning with eagerness again. The old man was restless, anxious to be on the way. This time, surely, their search would meet with success, his entire attitude seemed to say.
The lieutenant sought him out during the long twilight of the prairie evening.
“
Señor
Garcia,” he began hesitantly, “you know that it may not be your son.”
Señor
Garcia,” he began hesitantly, “you know that it may not be your son.”
“Of course, my boy!” Don Pedro's enthusiasm still bubbled. “But it may be! They said this man is a great leader!” He whacked the younger man affectionately across the shoulders. “Do not worry, Ramon! We shall go and see!”
The old don's eyes sparkled in the firelight and his excited smile spread across the weather-beaten face. Tonight, Cabeza thought, Don Pedro looked years younger. It was little short of amazing, how much difference it made to have something to look forward to.
Cabeza was still disturbed, however. There was actually very little chance that this legendary chief further north was even a Spaniard, much less one particular Spaniard, the son of Don Pedro Garcia. And, after further weeks of penetration into the heart of the continent, what if they found nothing? Or the wrong man? Could the stamina of Don Pedro withstand another disappointment of this kind?
Cabeza sighed and turned, sleepless, in his blankets. Things had seemed so much simpler at the start of the expedition, before he assigned himself the responsibility he now felt. Why couldn't he have merely been able to carry out his duties as head of the expedition's military unit? Things had a way of becoming so complicated out in the real world, away from the cloistered influence of his home and of the Academy.
Now, he muttered to himself, he had come to the point where he felt a responsibility not only to Don Pedro, but to Sanchez and the whole damned company.
What triumphs, terrors, or defeats might lie ahead between their present camp and the trail that led toward the Pole Star, winking brightly in the northern sky? At last, tired from the day's travel, he drifted into troubled sleep.
Nothing worthy of note occurred for a few days. The party rose, traveled, made camp, ate, and slept, and the distance slipped slowly behind them, one day much the same as the one before. They encountered no more villages.
Occasionally, the lancers procured a buffalo and everyone ate well for a day. They had slipped into a comfortable routine.
Don Pedro was becoming restless, almost irritable at the lack of any apparent progress. Then, one evening as they made camp, an astonishing event caught the attention of the entire party.
Three young natives approached the encampment. Their dusty garments showed evidence of long travel. Cautiously, they advanced, repeatedly making the open-palm sign for peace. Lizard moved forward to communicate.
The newcomers were Growers, they stated. They had heard of the searching party and had traveled several sleeps to meet them. It was said that Hair-faces would exchange gifts for information they sought and it was for this purpose they had come.
“They have knowledge of my son?” Don Pedro asked eagerly.
Lizard shook his head.
“No. Have big medicine. Hair-face medicine!”
He pointed to a shapeless bundle that one of the natives carried.
“Him want trade.”
Slowly, almost reverently, the man unwrapped his bundle.
“Him trade from hunter tribes,” Lizard was explaining.
The last leather wrapping slipped away and a round object gleamed dully in the firelight. Proudly, the native placed the thing in the hands of the shaken Don Pedro.
It was rusty and dented, but identifiable at a glance. Oddly out of place, the artifact was completely foreign to the prairies of New Spain. It was a battered and well-used accoutrement of another world, an old-fashioned Spanish military helmet.
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