Apache Son Read online

“Where did you go yesterday Chaps?”

  Chaps looked at Buckeye bleary eyed, “I shot the man what kilt Mr. Driskal Buckeye.”

  “You mean you kilt him?”

  “I reckon I kilt him, the top his head come clean off.”

  “Did he point a gun at you or sumthin?”

  “No, I just shot him I reckon.”

  “You mean you just pointed a gun and kilt him dead?”

  “Yeah, I reckon I did.”

  “Boy, you got to get out of here, they’ll hang you for sure, you got to go now.”

  “Where will I go Buckeye?”

  “Away, out of here, you should have thought of that before you kilt him. You got to go or they’ll hang you to the nearest limb for sure.”

  “I’ll go get Dover and fix you a pack horse with grub and stuff, you stay here till I get back, don’t you go up to the main house now, you hear me Chaps?”

  “Why can’t I see Mr. Driskel for one last time Buckeye?”

  “They ain’t nothin’ to see Chaps, most of his head is gone, now you got to listen to me, you stay here while I get you a pack horse and a couple lead horses, you got to ride fast you hear me?”

  It all began to sink in and Chaps packed his bed roll as much as his shaking hands would allow. Thirty minutes later Buckeye and Dover led a pack horse and two lead horses to the bunk house door.

  Dover handed him a pistol and holster. Then he handed him the reins of the horses, “You got to ride fast, you ride till one horse gives out, then drop him and take another. You ride fast until you get clear to White Mountain, you hear?”

  “Thanks Buckeye and you too Dover.”

  Buckeye hugged him, “You’re about as close to a brother as I’ll ever get, I’ll miss you and so will Dover. Now get going, and don’t come back here.”

  Chaps dug the spurs to one of the lead horses as Dover, and Buckeye watched him ride away with sad eyes.

  “I reckon things have got about as bad as they can get round here, lets go bury Mr. Driskel.” As they neared the main house five horsemen rode swiftly through the ranch gate.

  The men pulled up in front of the house but didn’t get down. Dover stared up at the men, “Have you all come down to Mr. Driskels funeral?”

  “No we ain’t, we’re lookin’ for that Chaps kid, he come out to our ranch and killed one of our men in cold blood.”

  “He ain’t been here.” Buckeye spoke up.

  One of the men lunged his horse forward into Buckeye and put him off balance, the man brought a quirt down on his head, “You lie you little weasel, I’ll teach you to lie!” He hit him again.

  “Now mister don’t you be goin’ doin’ that, he’s just trying to protect his friend, Chaps done lit out a few minutes ago, so don’t you be mistreating that boy.” Dover pleaded.

  “Which way did he go?”

  “Up the Rio to the Big Bend country I reckon, and you ain’t going to catch him, he was a better rider than you when he was six.” Dover declared.

  “We’ll catch him.”

  “Mister, let him be, that man he kilt ain’t worth steering up this kind of trouble, and if you lay a quirt to me again, I’ll kill you myself, then they’ll be chasing two of us to hell and gone.” Buckeyes face was livid with anger.

  Old Dover lay his hand on Buckeye’s shoulder, “Easy son, they won’t catch him.” The men sped off toward Big Bend.

  “How do you know Dover? They might catch him and hang him.”

  “They won’t, but I got a feelin’ they’ll wish they didn’t, if they do.”

  As they buried Driskal there by the Rio Grande, Chaps changed horses and kept riding, he picked his way through the canyons and cliffs until he was sitting on the flanks of Emory Peak in the Chisos Mountains; White mountain lay beyond that.

  He dismounted and threw his saddle on the ground, and then he hobbled the remaining lead horse and the pack horse. He could see that both horses were about done.

  He nibbled at the corn pone as the sun went down, then he lay with his rifle watching his back trail.

  He sat covered with his blanket as the stars came out too many to count and spread over the starry heavens.

  Normally he would have been awed by the sight of Gods handy work, but this night the vision of the mans head exploding lay between him and the stars in the night sky and he shivered.

  “I’ve done kilt me a man Lord and I can’t see your face no more.” Tears dimmed his eyes and his damaged mind took him back to when he was five years old when he watched the sad face of his Indian father turn away and kick his horse into a full gallop, leaving him alone in the Chihuahua desert.

  He had wondered for days in the maze of canyons before Mr. Driskel had found him and put him on his horse.

  He sat and as the moon made its way across the mountains he remembered the chant his Indian mother had taught him.

  He awoke suddenly and looked out across the desert and saw the tiny shapes of horseman following his trail, and if the early morning sun hadn’t reached the horseman, he wouldn’t have spotted them.

  He never saw them again and two days later when he reached the White Mountains. He was resting his horse on the flanks of the mountain when small man appeared out of nowhere at the edge of his camp.

  The man was clearly Mescalero Apache, he could tell by the head band the man wore on his head.

  The man squatted and stared at him and Chaps stared back. He was amazed at the way the man didn’t move a muscle.

  Chaps reached slowly over to the bag of corn pone, took a piece of the bread and began to chew on one, then he tossed the other to the man.

  The man slowly reached down and took the corn pone and smelled it, then began eating, chewing slowly.

  Chaps took a swallow from his canteen, and then tossed that to the man also.

  Eventually the man spoke, “You are Spotted Birds son.”

  “You speak English?”

  “Of course, what do you think I am, a wild Indian?” the man grinned.

  “You are an Indian, and Mescalero by the looks of you. Don’t you know who you is?”

  “I am your cousin Talks A Lot. I am the one who kept you in my vision when you were sent to the whites. I also kept you in my vision while you grew. That was my instruction from Spotted Bird.”

  “You mean you been keepin’ an eye on me all these years?”

  “Yes, why have you come to White mountain?”

  “Mister, I done kilt the man that kilt my boss and I’m trying my best to keep them from stretching my neck with a rope.”

  “What do you mean, this stretching?”

  “It means they gonna try to hang me up, kill me for shooting a no good snake.”

  “Why have you killed a snake, they are not much good for eating?”

  “No…I mean a man, don’t you know nothing?”

  “It is hard for me to make out the meaning of white men, I don’t understand them. They are dirty and they kill without reason, they kill for the sake of killing. They killed the Buffalo so the Cheyenne people couldn’t eat, I have heard of this. Now they kill us, that is why we are here in White mountain, but we will run no further. The buffalo soldiers will come, and we will fight to the death. Then we will be gone from the earth.”

  “Looks like I brought you trouble mister, I will ride on.”

  “You can rejoin your people now, Spotted Bird is old, and it will give her a good heart to see you. Come with me, and we will go to the wickiups of your people. If those men come here, they will feel the wrath of the Mescalero people. You will be safe.”

  As he rode, following the old Indian on foot, his mind took him back to the love of his mother. Maybe they is something to this after all, anyhow I got to find out. Eventually the Indian led to the overlook of a high mountain valley. Bordering a stream that ran through the valley were about 30 wickiups. Horses grazed on the rich grass, a picture of peace and contentment. Children ran and played among the wickiups and in the stream, splashed water on each other and l
aughed.

  Talks A Lot led him to a wickiup near the edge of the lodges and called into the small opening, “Spotted Bird, it is Talks A lot, and he has brought you your son.”

  People began to gather round at the sound of Talks A Lots voice, they stared up at the white boy with suspicious eyes.

  An old woman exited the lodge and when she saw Chaps, she fainted. Talks A lot turned to the people and said, “This is not bad, her heart is over full and she cannot stand, she will wake up, This is Chaps, her son, whom we had to send back. He has been returned to her by the Spirit.”

  The people stood and stared in amazement at what was taking place, a woman grabbed a pot and ran to the stream to get water, then returning she bathed Spotted Birds face with the cool water.

  Spotted Bird awoke to rise up, and hold her son tight. “You have been returned to me by the great spirit my son.”

  Talks A lot said, “He says he has killed a white man, and they are pursuing him, they will come to this place.”

  “Then they will all die. We cannot allow them to take someone who has been returned by the great spirit.” One of the men said.

  Chaps was surprised he could still remember enough of the language to understand what they said.

  A man who seemed to have some authority spoke, “No, we