Maria's Trail (The Mule Tamer) (16 page)

“Hah, no more bullets, muchacho.” And this was
true. The bandit yanked on the trigger again and again and heard nothing more
than the click of the hammer falling on spent primers.  He turned away from
her, looked forward and urged his mount on, trying to get his horse to outrun
her.  But this was impossible. Alanza was more fit and carrying less weight.
Maria continued to ride alongside.

“Careful, muchacho. You might fall.” She
taunted him and he became angry. He pulled his big knife and began slicing the
air in her direction. He didn’t know her game and was uncertain what to do
next, but Maria soon allayed his anxiety. With a quick movement, she drew one
of her six shooters and held it toward the man’s head as they rode
side-by-side. Suddenly she lowered the muzzle and fired into the bandit’s
spine, just below his jaw. He flopped over like a ragdoll onto the desert
floor, cart wheeling end over end as his horse continued on at a full gallop.

She rode up on him. He was lying on his side,
doubled over and unable to move. Maria got down and stood over him. With some
effort, she pushed him hard with her foot and he flopped over onto his back,
the morning sun beating down mercilessly on his face.

“You are in a lot of trouble, muchacho.” She
lit a cigar and blew the smoke at him. “Want one, muchacho?” She pointed at the
cigar and he nodded yes. She knelt down beside him so that her face was now
just a foot away. “No, sorry. Don’t have many left. None to spare.” She
grinned.

His eyes rolled about; the pain was too much to
bear, her bullet making it impossible to move anything else. He breathed in
unsteadily and waited.

Maria reached over and stuck a finger in his
vest pocket. She tore downward and found some money there. She went through the
rest of his pockets and got a couple of rings and a necklace and one pocket
watch. She put these in her pocket and then, reaching down, removed his gun
belt. He cried out in pain.

 “Oh, sorry.” She shrugged and continued to
strip him. She removed all his clothes until he was naked, sweat pouring from
his face. The clothes had no value, they were essentially rags, but she did not
want him protected from the sun.

“Well, I have to go now, muchacho. Bye.”

“No, no.” He cried out weakly, plaintively. “A
bullet.”

“Oh, no muchacho. I will not waste another
bullet on you.” She got her water gourd and opened it, took a long sloppy drink
with much of the water running down her chin and neck. She looked up at the sun
and then down at the man who was already starting to burn. She lifted the gourd
and dumped the remaining contents over her head until she was soaking wet.

“Ah, that feels good.” She reached down and,
opening her shirt, exposed her breasts to him. She looked down at herself.
“That little baby, she tore them to pieces, muchacho. Look at them.”

He did and could say nothing.

“Muchacho, I want you to make sure to see me.
See that I am a woman. A woman did this to you, muchacho. A woman.” She
breathed in and spit a huge gob onto his forehead. “There’s a drink for you if
you get thirsty later, boy.” She wiped her mouth. “That’s more than you gave
the little one, isn’t it?” Turning her back, she mounted Alanza and rode off.

The hostages were working on the corpses when
she returned with the bandit’s mount. They’d gotten their valuables back and
all had a good cry. They were a resourceful lot and would soon have everything
in order. They wasted no time.

Maria was proud; she’d never saved anyone
before. It was overwhelming to see the people relieved, given another chance at
life. They were a remarkable bunch in their resolution and hard work and Maria
enjoyed listening to their strange language. It was fascinating.

They all regarded her and the woman with the
infant brought the others together to greet Maria.

“Danke,” they all announced in unison and bowed
respectfully to Maria.

She smiled, “De nada.” She looked at the
sleeping infant. The child would be fine. She’d eaten on and off since being
reunited with her mother and now they were both much better.

Maria put her hands on her own breasts, “She is
a little terror, no?”

“Ah, meine Dame, when there is milch, eh milk,
it is much easy.”

Maria set up camp and took an inventory of what
they had. Everyone would have to double up on horses, but they would all be
able to ride. The bandits had a fair amount of food and water so they were
pretty well provisioned. The women needed little direction in putting things in
order and Maria soon realized that she was being waited on hand and foot. She
must have had a puzzled look about this as the woman with the baby approached
her, then looked at the others of her party.

“They are all very taken with you, meine Dame.
They are thinking you are not real, perhaps, eh, a creature from mythology, ah,
not human.”

Maria smiled and felt herself blush. She looked
herself over and realized that she must have presented a very strange sight,
indeed. These women were used to frontier life, but by their own appearance, it
was abundantly clear that they did not take on the garb of the land. They
dressed in their mother country’s style and in this Maria looked very
different.

“Tell them I am just a human but I am not like
the others in my land. They will not see more like me anytime soon.” She lit
another cigar and offered one to the spokeswoman who graciously refused.

Maria was not certain what to do now. These
women and children were in the middle of nowhere with little left of their
personal belongings and most of their party dead. They couldn’t be left out
here alone and the spokeswoman, seemingly on cue, began to talk.

“Meine Dame, we have very much long travel to
go. We are going all the way to south, to Soconusco. Do you know this place?”

Maria had not heard of it. Had never been south
of Mexico City. “I do not.”

“Would you take us to this place?” She regarded
her party. “They have all discussed it. They asked me to ask you. They will do
whatever you say. We will care for you and pay you well if you will take us.”

Maria smiled. She could get used to this. “Yes,
we will go to this place. I will be happy to take you.”

They stayed at the camp for the rest of the day
and through the night. Maria watched them; they kept to themselves and spoke in
hushed tones in their strange language. Maria was amused when she noticed them
looking at her whenever they had the chance. They were a very formal and shy
people. The little ones were slightly bolder, intrigued, but they still kept
their distance. They were still a little afraid of the woman who looked and acted
like a bandit man.

They had a meal and Maria could see that they
were Catholic. This surprised her. They were not like the padre, yet were
another group from another land. She’d been told that en el Norte there were
many different kinds of people and she guessed that they were yet another
bunch, these Germans. She’d never known of such people. She liked them. They
doted on her and would let her do nothing and it reminded her a little of how
things used to be with Juana, when they were living in the cave. Maria liked
everything just so, and Juana would sit back, like a little princess and Maria
would do all the work. These people were like Maria back then. They seemed to
be driven, compelled to work all the time. No work was ever finished. They were
efficient and, much like Maria, did everything just so.

The lady with the baby approached her again,
just before everyone bedded down. “Mein Dame, they want to know, will it be
permitted to go back to the attack place? We would like to bury our families.”

Maria thought about it. She regarded the woman
and then the others and thought about the horrific site. It would be difficult
for them. She’d arranged the bodies respectfully but knew it would be an ugly
thing to see. “As you wish, but I did give them a good funeral. I am Catholic,
like you, and I did a good prayer for them.  They are safe from the wolves and
in a good resting spot. It would be better to move on, but as you wish. We will
do what you want.”

She left Maria and conferred with the others.
When she returned she said, “Mein Dame. We will move on tomorrow. We thank
you.” She’d been crying and Maria felt compelled to continue. They’d suffered
in her country and at the hands of her countrymen.

“I am sorry, lady. There is much sorrow and
cruelty in this land but please know, it is not all like this. We Mexicans, we
are not like those men.” She watched the woman breathe deeply and regain
control of her emotions. “Was your husband one who got killed?”

She nodded. “And my father and grandfather and
grandmother, mein Dame.” She smiled weakly and looked down at her baby, clamped
to her breast. “But this little one has survived.” She looked at Maria and
tears ran down her face. “Thanks to you, this little one is good.”

Maria walked up as the German woman finished
her prayers. She nodded and gave the woman a smile.

“Do you pray, mein Dame?”

Maria blushed. “Only for others, not for
myself.”

The woman sat by the fire and Maria offered her
a cigar. She waved it off again. She did not take tobacco. “Would you have more
of that drink you gave me before?”

Maria got out one of her bottles and poured the
mescal. “Gut Schnapps.” She held up the cup in a toast and drank. “Mein Dame,
may I know your name?”

“Maria.”

“Ja.” She nodded. “I see that.” She drank
again. “I am Ulla.”

They sat and drank for a while and regarded the
sleeping camp. Maria liked her new friend and felt a certain bond since they
had each lost so much. She wanted to talk. “I have been fighting with God.”

“I see.”

Maria regarded her. “I have had, like you, many
bad things happen. I have only stopped being mad at Him, but still do not want
to pray to Him.” Maria watched for her reaction and continued. “I don’t ask God
for anything. He’s…, He does not seem to listen and He…, He lets bad things
happen. Things without reason.”

The woman smiled and took another drink. Tears
were running down her face and she wiped them with the backs of her hands. “I
do not know, Maria. I do not think He plays any part in the badness of the
world. I just do not know.”

She was like the prospector in this and Maria
was a little surprised as the woman had lost nearly her whole family. Before
Maria could speak, Ulla continued.

“One could say that God sent you, just as
easily as they could say that God sent the bad men.” She took a deep breath and
her voice was quivering. She was remembering the attack. “But, I do not think
that God has so much time… so much time to do for us… do for us or not do for
us. I do not think that it works in such a way.” She smiled at Maria. “I do not
think that reason is a part of any of it. It is just a great mystery.”

Ulla stood up and approached Maria, held out a
cup and Maria poured. “But I am glad you found us, Maria. We are all glad we
found you.”

They drank into the night; neither was tired
and they were enjoying each other’s company, the spirits, and camaraderie.

Maria continued on the subject of prayer. “I
never did get anything I prayed to God for.”

Ulla smiled. She was quite drunk now and had
stopped crying. “He is not a genie, Maria.”

They both laughed at that.

“Then what do you pray for, Ulla?”

She became quiet and her eyes filled with
tears. Maria was sorry for asking. Ulla looked Maria in the eye and then at the
dying fire. “I just give thanks. I just give thanks.”

Maria slept late, well into daylight and was
treated to the German’s hospitality again. They had all prepared for the trek
south and had Alanza ready and Maria’s traps packed and ready to go. They had
her breakfast, including hot coffee, waiting for when she awakened.

She sat up and stretched and had begun to eat
when she felt a light touch behind her and looked around. The smallest girl was
standing behind her, stroking her long raven-colored hair. The child was
beautiful and exotic. Maria had never seen such lovely hair on anyone. It was
like corn silk or spun gold and the little one looked over at her mother. “Ist
sie unser Schutzengel, Mutter?”

Her mother smiled as she worked and looked on
at Maria reverently. “Ja, mein Liebling, das ist sie.”

Ulla came over and smiled at Maria. “She wants
to know if you are our guardian angel. And, she loves your hair.”

Maria turned and held out her arms. The child
came into them and sat on Maria’s lap. She was about the age that her little
Rosario would have been now, had she lived. She breathed in the scent of her
hair and then held it up next to her own. She took a handful of each and
braided her hair with the child’s, “Like night and day, little one.”

The child nodded, “Ja, mein Dame, ja.”

Maria reached into her saddle bag and pulled
out a good hairbrush, the one Uncle Alejandro had given her as a gift. It was
made of fine bristles with a tortoise shell handle. She handed it to the child.
“Would you brush my hair, little one?”

She pantomimed the brushing motion and the
child understood. She nodded gravely, stood up and did a proper job. She worked
diligently and soon Maria’s hair was neatly brushed. She looked into her bag
again and produced a matching mirror. She looked into it and nodded. “Good
job.” The child was pleased.

“Now, my turn.” She took the brush and worked
on the child’s hair, glorying in the many shades of gold. It was the most
beautiful and exotic thing Maria had ever seen. She patted the girl and kissed
her on top of the head. “You ride with me, my little one.”

The child beamed and looked at her mother for
approval. Soon she’d be in the saddle with the beautiful schutzengel.