The Dragoons 3

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The Dragoons 3 Page 11

by Patrick E. Andrews


  Captain Perez was waiting for them. He showed them to their seats. “His Excellency will be here presently,” he said. “Please excuse him, pressing duties occupy his time.”

  Grant leaned toward Eruditus and whispered, “Especially since he slept the afternoon away.”

  Captain Perez suddenly snapped to attention, the loud clicking of his heels echoing in the large chamber. “Caballeros! Su excelencia, el General Antonio Eduardo San Andres de la Nobleza, comandante militar del distrito de Sonora Norteno!” He indicated Grant. “Presento el Capitan Drummond del Ejercito Americano.”

  Grant and Eruditus stood up as General De La Nobleza walked into the room. He smiled broadly, offering his hand as he walked up to Grant. “Bienvenida a mi cuartel-general. Mi casa es su casa.”

  “The general welcomes you to his headquarters,” Captain Perez translated. “He also says his house is your house.”

  “It is also his headquarters,” Grant said softly to Eruditus. He turned his attention back to the general, extending his hand. “Thank you very much for seeing me on such short notice, General. Your polite reply to my request to discuss an important and serious matter is most appreciated.”

  This time it was Eruditus who acted as the translator. He changed the words over to Spanish. De La Nobleza made another comment which the older American translated as, “Let us enjoy our meal. Then we shall discuss business.”

  As soon as the four men settled down, a small squad of servants quickly appeared bearing trays of food. The meal consisted of thick steaks, tortillas, beans, and vegetables along with more excellent wine.

  General De La Nobleza pointed to a platter of sliced tomatoes. He spoke in halting English, “The Americanos think the jitomates be the poison, no?”

  Grant smiled. “In some parts they are called love apples, General, and some people do consider them deadly. But I have enjoyed their taste during my duties in Texas. I assure you, I have developed a fondness for tomatoes.” He took several slices and immediately began eating them. “Delicious!”

  De La Nobleza laughed. “Si! Delicioso!”

  The meal continued with light conversation. Everyone diplomatically omitted any comments about the late war between the United States and Mexico. Instead, the two officers exchanged bits of information regarding their own armies and the units they commanded. The adventure yarns they told involved fights with Indians rather than each other’s armies.

  Finally, after a desert of delicate pastries, coffee was served. Almost immediately, De La Nobleza became serious. He spoke rapidly, holding the message which Eruditus had delivered to him from Grant.

  Eruditus translated, “The general says he has perused the message and is very upset at the possibility that scalphunters under contract to the Mexican government have violated American territory.”

  “I fear I brought no hard evidence with me at this time, General,” Grant said.

  The general made a reply which Eruditus interpreted as, “In dealings between gentlemen, the proof of veracity is in their words. No further communication or reports of these crimes is necessary between us.”

  “Thank you for your trust and concern, General,” Grant said. “I sincerely hope there is some way that these crimes can be halted and the culprits kept on this side of the border?”

  De La Nobleza, after the translation, spoke carefully and slowly. This time it was Captain Perez who acted as interpreter. He took each phrase and changed it to English:

  “I will give my personal guarantee that such illegal behavior will cease immediately. I have dispatched several detachments of my brave soldiers to search for evidence of this. At my first contact with the chief contractor of bounty scalps, I will conduct a thorough and vigorous investigation. If he has crossed into the United States of America, I will have him punished severely and void his contract straight away.”

  “Could the culprit be turned over to us for punishment?” Grant asked.

  When he was given the meaning of the question, De La Nobleza smiled apologetically. “I am sorry,” he said. “But my government does not allow our criminals to be turned over to foreign governments for punishment. But, dear Captain, you may find that our method of justice is quicker and harsher than your own.” He laughed. “I will simply have the head scalphunter put up against a wall and shot.”

  Grant weighed the words in his mind. “Very well, General De La Nobleza. I will forward a report of what you have told me to my headquarters in Santa Fe. I am certain the American government will find great assurance in your words.”

  “Excellent,” De La Nobleza said through Perez. “Since we are now neighbors, I hope our next meeting will more social and less business.”

  “My sentiments exactly, General,” Grant said.

  De La Nobleza nodded with a smile. He stood up and spoke a few words to Captain Perez, then said to Grant and Eruditus, “Buenas noches, caballeros. Me llaman otros obligaciones.”

  Perez stood up and saluted as the general withdrew from the room. He sat back down, saying, “His Excellency is called by other duties.”

  “I see,” Grant said. “At least I think we’ve managed to accomplish something here even after only a brief exchange of words.”

  “If we haven’t,” Eruditus mused. “Then you can change the name of Arizona to Hell.” He turned to a servant, holding up his empty glass. “Mas vino, por favor.”

  The man poured him another glassful of wine.

  Eleven

  The coolness of the desert during the early morning was almost as pleasant as that of the higher reaches of the Culebra Mountains. The day’s sun, although now above the horizon, had yet to turn on the full fury of its fiery blast as Grant Drummond and Eruditus Fletcher, accompanied by Captain Perez, stood by the front gate of General De La Nobleza’s hacienda. The two guests waited for their horses to be delivered to them. Both Americans were dressed for the return ride to the dragoon bivouac north in Arizona.

  “I wish you would take my advice and travel during night hours,” Captain Perez said. “It would be much more comfortable.”

  “Normally we would,” Grant said. “But duties press heavily on me at the moment.”

  “At any rate, I sincerely hope you enjoyed your stay with us,” Perez said.

  “We certainly did,” Grant answered. “We don’t get much of a chance to enjoy the better things of life at our primitive bivouac.”

  “Knowing that will double the general’s pleasure of being your host,” Perez said. “However, it is unfortunate that the visit had to be so short. His Excellency sincerely regrets that his obligations as a host were interfered with by unexpected complications arising within his jurisdiction as a military commander.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” Grant said. “Tell the general I only know too well the pressures of administering to a governmental district.”

  “I suppose the important thing is that you were able to voice your concerns to His Excellency regarding the scalphunters,” Perez said.

  “I have every confidence that General De La Nobleza will take the appropriate actions required by the situation,” Grant said. “I’m returning to my command with a great sense of relief. Because of General De La Nobleza’s help, the scalphunters will soon be gone and we won’t have to worry about any Indian troubles on the Vano Basin.”

  Perez smiled, saying, “I give you my personal assurance that he will. After all, peace rather than war is especially better for soldiers.”

  Two soldiers came around the stables leading old Plutarch and Grant’s mount. One of the Mexicans stepped forward and took the Americans’ saddlebags, securing the containers for the return trip. The task was followed by snappy salutes, then the troopers returned to their duties.

  Grant offered his hand to Perez. “Tanto gusto de cono-cerle, Capitan!”

  Perez raised his eyebrows. “So, you speak Spanish after all, Captain?”

  Laughing, Grant shook his head. “Mr. Fletcher taught me the phrase. I fear that is my full know
ledge of your language although I have picked up various words and phrases in Texas.”

  “I recommend you acquire fluency in it,” Perez said. Then he added, “Since it has been spoken in Arizona for quite some time now.”

  Grant didn’t miss the point. “English will be edging in now, I believe.” Then he added, “Of course the Spanish-speaking inhabitants will continue to add the benefits of their cultural influence to the region.”

  Eruditus interjected, remarking, “As a linguist I find that one cannot acquire enough skill in various languages. Each one is like a separate life one is allowed to live. Also, more friends are gained when it is possible to communicate with a wider circle of people.”

  “Well expressed, Señor Fletcher,” Perez said. “I wish to communicate with you gentlemen just how pleased I am to have made both your acquaintances.” He shook hands with Eruditus in turn. “Vaya con Dios. Go with God.”

  “Gracias!” Eruditus called out as he swung up into the saddle. “Hasta la proximal.”

  “Adios!” Perez said bidding them farewell.

  The sentries opened the gate to allow the visitors to canter from the hacienda out onto the open desert country. Grant and Eruditus immediately turned north, heading directly toward the Vano Basin.

  As they rode out of sight of the hacienda, neither traveler spoke for a long time. They settled into the journey, slowing down a bit as the sun continued its climb into the sky and rapidly heated the countryside under its growing strength. The distant horizon, which had been sharp and distinctive, dulled into a muddled vision of dancing heat waves. The baking desert day was now upon them.

  The horses’ hooves made a sharp staccato on the sandy terrain during the steady ride. Barrel cactus, standing as mute tributes of defiance of the unforgiving climate, seemed a scattered, leafless forest of dull green thrown down haphazardly on a moonscape. Now and then one of the desert’s small creatures created a scurrying sound as it scampered about in the sparse underbrush of agave and yucca plants.

  It was Grant who broke their self-imposed silence as he spoke what had been on his mind since leaving De La Nobleza’s hacienda. “Do you think we accomplished our mission, Mr. Fletcher?”

  “Do I detect a hint of pessimism or even mistrust in your tone?” Eruditus asked.

  “I cannot bring myself to completely trust a man who has risen to the top in De La Nobleza’s world of bribery and corruption,” Grant said. “But I must hope the general is a sincere and honorable man.”

  “Only time will tell, Captain,” Eruditus replied. He glanced over at his companion. “Well now, we’ve traveled across the desert together, shared a campfire, and drunk a Mexican general’s wine as his guests, have we not?”

  Grant, puzzled by the question, acknowledged the remark with a nod of his head.

  “Then, why do we remain so formal with each other?” Eruditus said. “I have absolutely no objection if you address me by my Christian name. It is Eruditus.”

  Grant laughed. “Then, Eruditus, my friend, my name is Grant.”

  “Grant it is!” Eruditus exclaimed. “Amacitia usus feret,” he added in Latin.

  “Friendship brings familiarity,” Grant translated. “But to get back to the conversation, Eruditus. Please give me your opinion of General De La Nobleza and his intentions toward our problem.”

  “As far as I can determine, he has been sincere and truthful with us,” Eruditus said. “Would it be that your lack of confidence is no more than perhaps what could be called a concursus humanior—a clash of cultures?”

  “To tell you the absolute truth—I don’t know,” Grant admitted. “Being an American officer, I am not used to dealing with a military in which the acquisition of wealth seems to run hand-in-hand with serving the nation. I’ve yet to know any man entering the United States Army thinking that he’ll be gaining money and property in the performance of his duties.”

  “Let us not be too harsh on our Mexican neighbors,” Eruditus said. “We must remember they inherited much of their governmental philosophies from Spain. Those early Spanish administrators were originally conquistadors who came to the New World looking for wealth and power. The fact that many were impoverished noblemen or adventurers drove them here. They fought and conquered not only to serve their King, but to also acquire as much material gain as possible.”

  “The cause behind the situation matters nothing to me. I shall never completely trust General De La Nobleza,” Grant Drummond said. “I would be as much at ease dealing with an Arabian potentate.”

  “Let us hope any misgivings you feel are unfounded,” Eruditus said.

  Once again the two travelers lapsed into thoughtful silence as they traversed the harsh, lunar like plain of the desert. Pushing on through the growing heat, Grant and Eruditus continued northward toward the dragoon camp. A few hours later, the sun topped its journey across the sky and beat down on the barren terrain from straight above with a boiling persistence that sapped the strength of even the well-nourished horses who carried the officer and scout.

  Eruditus took a breath of the hot air. “I suggest it is time we take a brief siesta and let the worst heat of the day wear itself out on this sandy soil rather than us and our faithful mounts.”

  “An excellent suggestion, Eruditus,” Grant said. He took a sip of lukewarm water from his canteen. “God never meant for men to live in this hell.”

  “The Creator evidently never passed that information to the Apaches and Mexicans,” Eruditus replied with a chuckle. “Perhaps. He put so much bravado and stubbornness in both those races simply to have one of his deserts inhabited.”

  The pair halted to shelter in the small comfort offered by the shade of a close-packed group of barrel cacti. They moved slowly, making absolutely no haste as they prepared to wait out the worst part of the day. They would have preferred to be kinder to their animals by removing saddles and blankets, but the territory held too much danger in the way of bandidos, Apaches, and other human predators who roamed the desolate wilderness far away from civilization.

  Two hours passed in which the men sweated heavily, drinking sparingly from their canteens while their horses endured the heat in the dumb acceptance of the discomfort they neither understood nor questioned. Grant and Eruditus spoke little, napping in turns as each stood short stints of guard duty. It was difficult to see through the haze of heat, but the clear air made any sounds sharp and distinct.

  Eventually, a slight lessening of the smothering inferno indicated it was time to resume the route back to Arizona and the waiting waters of the Pool-Beneath-the-Cliff.

  Grant got to his feet and stretched. He looked over at Eruditus who knelt beside a large cactus, peering out into the desert during his stint as sentry.

  “Shall we resume our journey?” Grant asked.

  The older man stood up. “As good a time as any if we must do so in daylight in order to save a few hours,” he acknowledged.

  “I only wish we had the luxury of no pressing duties that would allow night travel,” Grant said.

  They led their horses from the cactus grove and swung into the saddle. It took little to get their mounts moving again despite the heat. The animals instinctively knew they were on their way home. Within moments, the routine of the trip had been fully resumed by both men and beasts.

  The sound of distant hoof beats rapidly approaching was picked up simultaneously by Grant and Eruditus. Both men took quick looks to the east to see numerous horsemen bounding over the horizon heading straight for them. The group definitely did not seem a friendly one. This appearance of hostility was confirmed within moments by the sound of shots that sent bullets whipping through the air.

  “Son of a bitch!” Grant instinctively yelled.

  “My sentiments exactly!” Eruditus echoed.

  Not having the luxury of time to consider the strange event, they kicked their mounts into a gallop, moving slightly westward to increase the distance between themselves and the unexpected company. The incoming fire
decreased, showing the pursuers had given up wild shooting in order to close in to bring the encounter to a quick finish.

  Grant and Eruditus rode hard, glad they had given their horses a chance to rest in the heat. Only luck had allowed them time to leave the grove of cacti. If they’d been caught inside the prickly cover, their pursuers would have been able to pick them off at leisure.

  Eruditus glanced back and noted the pursuers had gained on them a few yards. He knew of a hard packed plateau less than a mile ahead. If he and Grant reached it first, they might be able to pick up a bit more speed. He shouted at his friend, then turned in the direction he wanted to go. Grant, immediately understanding, galloped alongside, trusting in the older man’s knowledge of the countryside.

  Within a few minutes they reached the area. The sound of the horses’ hooves changed on the parched, hard earth and their speed increased. But suddenly more riders appeared from the west, firing at the two men who rode for their lives. This more recent threat forced them back to the east, into the path of the original pursuers.

  Grant glanced at both groups numerous times, trying to estimate their numbers. It was hard to do, but he figured the original group was the larger with approximately ten men. The latest band seemed to have no more than a half dozen members. But one thing was for certain—all those giving chase rode fresh horses. That meant this was no accidental meeting between prey and hunter. The men chasing Grant and Eruditus had planned the event many hours before putting it into effect.

  Grant knew that simply making a run for it only put off their deaths. Being a professional soldier, he lived by the motto of instant, aggressive action when in a dangerous position. Many times an unexpected reaction to attackers threw them off balance.

  Grant drew his Colt revolver and yelled over at Eruditus to get his attention. “Hey!”

  Eruditus waved back with an answering, “Hey!”

  Grant pointed to the smaller group, and pulled his horse directly in their direction. Eruditus, whose only handguns were a pair of single-shot .54 caliber percussion pistols, drew one of them and followed closely behind the army officer.

 

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