Knight of the Tiger

by W. Michael Farmer

  The roads north to Deming and west to Douglas produced steady dust clouds as automobiles and wagons rolled into Columbus filled with curiosity seekers and those anxious to help friends and neighbors. A photographer arrived after driving from El Paso in record time. He took pictures of everything and anyone, including the captured Villistas and bodies in the street.

  I walked down to the army hospital at Camp Furlong and found the officer in charge, a young lieutenant with red hair and freckles. We shook hands and I said, “Sir, my name is Doctor Henry Grace from Las Cruces, New Mexico. I have a patient who needs to get to an El Paso hospital in short order. Any idea when a train carrying wounded to El Paso might be leaving?”

  He shrugged. “My guess is I’ll be lucky if I can get my men on a train before tomorrow morning. Can your patient ride sitting in a seat?”

  “No, she’s been shot twice. Once in her right leg, once in the right hip, and the bullet is still in place. She’ll have to stretch out on her left side.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t know what to tell you, Doctor Grace. If you can go with her, I’m sure soldiers will give you all the room you need, even if they have to ride all the way standing up. Why don’t you plan on catching the four a.m. that comes through from Hachita? There shouldn’t be too many passengers on that one.”

  “Good idea. Thanks.” I gave him a little open-handed salute, which he returned with a grin.

  As I walked back to town, I decided to check on Maud Wright at the Slocums. After that I’d have to eat. My stomach growled when my nose passed busy restaurants. Passing the Hoover Hotel, I saw a small crowd gathered in front of the Slocum house and wondered what was going on as I doubled my pace to get there.

  A tall, gangly major, a captain with a Rock of Gibraltar jaw, three lieutenants looking barely old enough to shave, and six or seven men in business suits shuffled around in front of the Slocums’ small yard. The captain and the major spoke to a grizzled black man who looked malnourished and gaunt.

  Off to one side Quentin Peach spoke with a couple of the men in business suits. The corpulent one, jowls hanging over his white, starched collar, wore an expensive pinstriped suit and small-brim fedora. He constantly mopped away sweat running in rivulets down the sides of his face. The other man, tall and beefy, wore a brown herringbone suit and vest. I saw a shoulder holster carrying a large caliber revolver under his coat, and he studied Quent’s face with the unblinking focus of a cat watching a mouse. Quent waved me over.

  “Henry, you’re just in time.”

  He motioned my attention to the sweating fat man.

  “Doctor Grace, this is Mr. George Carothers. He’s a special State Department agent assigned to keep an eye on our friend Villa. This gentleman is Mr. E. B. Stone, Bureau of Investigation.”

  We shook hands as Carothers and Stone looked me over and said how pleased they were to meet me.

  “These gentlemen came running as soon as they heard Villa hit Columbus. After all the raids along the border by the Carrancistas, they want to be sure Villa was the leader and determine how big an army he has. I told them we were headed down here on the train from El Paso early this morning after hearing Villa was close to the border. I wanted to get an interview and you wanted to see a friend you’d known ten years ago.” I was relieved Quent hadn’t said anything about my medico work for Villa last year. Given last night’s raid, I’d be hard-pressed to explain my association with Pancho Villa.

  Stone tilted his head to one side and crossed his arms as he studied me with a look intended to be intimidating. I had to smile; he needed to work on his look. Looking at me over half-frame glasses floating at the end of his big, bulbous nose, Carothers squinted in the bright sunlight and said, “So you knew Pancho Villa ten years ago, Doctor Grace?”

  “That’s right. I knew him back in his bandit days when I lived in Chihuahua.”

  Stone shrugged. “Okay . . . so what brings you to Colonel Slocum’s house?”

  “I came by to check on a lady named Maud Wright. Over at the Hoover Hotel, she told me Villa kidnapped her nine days ago but turned her loose after the raid. She said Villa executed her husband and a family friend and gave her two-year-old son to a Mexican family. Mrs. Wright’s desperate to get her baby back. I promised I’d do all I could to help her. Maybe the State Department . . . ?”

  Carothers nodded, his jowls flopping. “Yes, of course we will. We just need to verify her story first.” He hooked a thumb at the black man. “See that Negro cowboy over there? His name is Bunk Spencer. He says he was kidnapped, too, but he managed to get away about the same time Villa released Mrs. Wright. A few ladies will step out on the Slocums’ front porch here in a minute. If he can pick her out, it’ll tell us they’re both telling the truth, and we can rely on their information.”

  A few minutes later, the Slocums’ front door creaked open, and five young women came out to stand side-by-side across the porch. They were all dressed about the same and were about the same height. I was amazed at how much better Maud looked. Bunk Spencer didn’t hesitate. He turned to the major and says, “Yas, suh. No doubt ’bout it. Dat lady, second from de right, she Miss Maud. Howdy, Miss Maud!” Maud smiled and nodded at him.

  Stone turned to Carothers and said, “Looks like we have a winner.”

  CHAPTER 39

  MAUD WRIGHT’S ODYSSEY

  Carothers and Stone peeled off their coats as they prepared to interview Maud. They sat on one side of the Slocums’ big, mahogany dinner table. Maud and I sat on the other side, and Quentin Peach sat at one end. Carothers had asked him to sit in on the questioning as a witness and to keep an independent set of notes. At her request, I sat with Maud to give her moral support.

  After clearing his throat, Carothers said, “Now, Mrs. Wright, we need you to tell us your story with as much detail as you can. Any information you and Bunk Spencer can give us might very well affect how President Wilson decides to respond to this attack on the United States. Mr. Stone and I serve different masters in the government. In the next day or two, we might need to ask you additional questions to satisfy our superiors.

  “I want you to understand that we’re here to help you in any way we can. I’ve already had the State Department contact the Carranza government about the return of your little boy, and we expect a quick reply. We won’t rest until your child is back in your arms. Fair enough?”

  Maud nodded.

  “Now then, ma’am, what can you tell us?”

  Maud stared at Carothers’s eyes and then looked at her clasped hands resting on the table. She said, “It was startin’ to get dark when I heard horses and looked out the kitchen window, expectin’ to see Ed and Frank. Instead, I saw some kind of Mexican army patrol. The dark, dusty man who came to my door introduced himself as Colonel Nicolás Fernández and said he needed to buy food. I told him I didn’t have much, just enough for our ranch people, but I’d give him what I could.

  “He pushed his way into the kitchen and looked around, saw Johnnie, and said he commanded a Carrancista patrol looking for the bandit, Pancho Villa. He asked if I knew the whereabouts of Villa, and I told him we’d just come back after a couple of years north of the border and didn’t know anything about anybody.”

  Carothers held up his hand, palm out, to ask a question. “When you answered Fernández, did you say anything derogatory about Villa or Carranza?”

  “No. Livin’ down there, you never know who you might be dealing with. I’d lived in Mexico long enough to know to keep my mouth shut. Fernández said my cookin’ smelled good and that he hadn’t eaten all day. I offered to serve him supper while we waited on Ed and Frank.

  “They rode into the yard while Fernández was eatin’. Actin’ like the soldiers didn’t bother ’em any, they unloaded the pack mules and came on inside.

  “I introduced them to Colonel Fernández, who nodded but didn’t say anything, and just kept eatin’. When Fernández finished, he said he had to feed his horse and asked Ed where he kept ou
r grain. Ed said he’d show him, and they went out to the barn.

  “After waitin’ a minute, Frank looked across the table at me, shook his head, and said, ‘I’m gonna help Ed. You stay inside with the baby.’

  “As soon as Frank went out, the men outside came in. They were dirty and ragged, smelled like they hadn’t bathed in a month. They wanted to know where I kept our supplies. I showed ’em, and they took all my canned goods—everything—and carried it outside. I picked up Johnnie and followed ’em out, wonderin’ how we were going to eat for the next few days. Just then, they led Ed and Frank out of the barn ridin’ on one of the pack mules with their hands tied behind ’em.”

  Carothers scribbled some notes and asked, “What did you do?”

  “I panicked and ran up to Ed, but he just looked at me like it was Saturday night bath time and said, ‘We’ll be all right, Maudie. It’s cold out here. Go on now. Take the baby back inside before you both get sick.’

  “I went back inside. By that time, the soldiers had taken pots and pans, bed covers, my combs and brushes, all our clothes . . .” She sighed, looked at her hands, and said, “They took everything in the world we owned. When I followed ’em back outside, I saw Maria, the wife of the Mexican man we’d hired to help Ed and Frank work the ranch, had come out to see the commotion. When she saw the soldiers takin’ everything, she stood there a-cryin’ and shiverin’ with her young’uns hangin’ on her skirt, no doubt thinkin’ Fernández was goin’ to take her man, too.

  “Colonel Fernández came riding out of the barn, pointed at Johnnie and said, ‘Leave the baby with the woman and swing up behind me.’ I said, ‘I’m not doin’ any such thing!’ He pulled out a big pistol and says, ‘You choose, señora, the pistola or the caballo.’

  “I was scared and angry, and Johnnie was startin’ to cry when I handed him over to Maria and whispered, ‘I’ll be back.’ ”

  She paused to look at Carothers, who was still taking notes. He stopped and said, “And then?”

  Maud pressed her lips together, then said, “Rather than ride on the back of Fernández’s saddle, I took one of our mules from the soldier leading him. Fernández watched me mount and said, ‘Please understand, señora, we are not Carrancistas but part of División del Norte, General Francisco Villa’s army. We only need your hombres to guide us out of this territory and away from the trails Carrancista patrols use. When we get out of this country you’ll all be set free.’ ”

  Stone held up his hand. “Mrs. Wright, did you ever see any Carrancista patrols when you were with Villa?”

  “No sir, none.”

  Stone nodded, made a note, and said, “Please, continue.”

  “We rode all night in the freezin’ cold. One of the soldiers gave me a dirty, rat-holed serape to put over my shoulders, and that helped some. I didn’t see Ed and Frank on their mule the whole night, and my insides got tighter and tighter with worry. About daybreak, we got to Cave Valley.”

  Stone stopped her again. “How far from your ranch to Cave Valley?”

  She thought a moment and said, “Maybe thirty miles. When I first saw it, smoke was pourin’ out of the canyon like there was a forest fire, but it was just from campfires made with damp wood. There must have been two or three thousand men camped in there. Their stock looked in awful shape, ribs showing, heads hung low, so tired they weren’t even tryin’ to graze.

  “As we rode into the canyon, I nearly fainted with relief when I saw Ed and Frank still on their mule. I rode over close enough to speak to ’em.

  “Ed said, ‘We talked to Villa. Told him what we knew about the trails he needed to follow, and he said we weren’t gonna be executed.’

  “I shook my head and said, ‘Don’t be so sure of that.’ We agreed that whoever got away first would go back for Johnnie. During the day, I rested close enough to Ed and Frank so I could keep an eye on ’em.

  “We stayed in Cave Valley until late afternoon. After we moved out, Colonel Fernández assigned a man named Castillo to guard me. Castillo made me ride off to the east and then parallel to the main column. I think maybe Villa had decided to keep me in case he needed a hostage.

  “I looked for a while before I finally saw Ed and Frank on their mule back toward the end of the main column. I waved at ’em, but they never showed any sign they saw me. We rode that way for a couple of hours until the sun started settin’. I looked back and thought I saw five or six men leading Ed and Frank on their mule toward a hill we’d passed. I said to Castillo, ‘Where’re they headed with those soldiers?’ Castillo shrugged and said, ‘I don’t know, señora. Maybe the gringos have to fertilize the soil because they’re so full of merde.’ He hooted and laughed out loud, thinkin’ he’d made a big joke.

  “When I looked back again, the men and Ed and Frank had disappeared behind the hill. Not seein’ ’em gave me a really bad feelin’, but I kept hopin’ and prayin’ they were just guidin’ the soldiers down a trail. Near dark, I looked back again and saw the men who rode behind the hill but not Ed and Frank. I felt so bad. I wanted to throw up and cry and scream, but I didn’t. I’d never let those sons-of- . . . those men see any weakness in me. I knew I had to get through this trial. I had to get Johnnie back. That’s all that mattered then and all that matters to me now. You do understand that, don’t you, gentlemen?”

  We looked at her and solemnly nodded. The more I listened to Maud, the more I admired her strength and courage and marveled at the power of a mother’s love.

  Stone somberly said, “Yes, ma’am and we beg your pardon for this intrusive interview. Do you want to stop for a while?”

  She stared at her reflection in Mrs. Slocum’s shiny, mahogany table and shook her head. “No, sir. I’ve grieved over Ed and Frank for eight days, waitin’ to get free and find our son. I’m ready to go on.”

  “Very well. Thank you for your patience. Mrs. Wright, do you remember the trail the column took? Were there any places Villa appeared to favor on the march north?”

  She shook her head. “No. The trail didn’t make any sense at all. We’d ride east for a while and then swing back west and cover nearly the same ground like we’d lost somethin’ and were searchin’ for it.

  “We did stop for a few hours one day at a small, abandoned ranch. They slaughtered some cattle and fed the soldiers there. They were starvin’ and barely cooked the meat before eatin’ it. They gave me a tortilla with meat burned on the outside and bloody on the inside. I couldn’t eat it, but I saved it to cook some more and ate the tortilla.

  “Castillo was vulgar and only had one thing on his mind. After I complained about him, a man named Juan Ruiz, who spoke perfect English and acted like a real gentleman, became my guard.”

  Carothers nodded. I heard the impatience in his voice when he said, “Now, can you tell us when you first saw Villa?”

  Maud frowned and stared at the table. “It was the second or third day. He was wearing a straw hat like some farmer, and he rode a little mule. As he passed me, he bowed like a gentleman and smiled like a rattlesnake. After he rode by, I feared him. And from the way the men shut up when he passed by, I knew they feared him, too.”

  Stone frowned, shaking his head. “I’ve always heard he rides big fancy stallions. That’s what he did when Carothers here was with him down in Mexico for a while.”

  “Oh, yes, sir, he had several stallions, but when I asked Ruiz why he didn’t ride his big studs, he said Villa only rode them to lead his men into a fight. Every time we stopped to rest, which never lasted more than about three hours, those stallions were fed grain and curried and their hooves got a goin’ over. They had better care than any of the men.”

  Stone nodded. “I understand. If his men feared him, did you see any desertions while you were a captive?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. The closer we got to the border, the more men slipped away. A couple of days before we got to the border, desertions became so bad that five took off in a group. Villa sent a man named Candelario Cervantes after ’em. Cervante
s returned in a few hours, leading their horses with their guns, bandoliers of bullets, literally everything they had, hanging on their empty saddles. What Cervantes brought back, the other soldiers divided. Seeing all five deserters apparently caught and killed by Cervantes alone in less than a day pretty well ended any more desertions.”

  Stone rubbed his chin, leaned back in his chair, and asked, “What does this Cervantes look like, and where did he ride in the column?”

  “Let’s see.” Maud thought for a moment, tapping a finger on the table. “He has a big broad nose and square face. Oh, and his left eye seems bigger than the right, and, unless he’s holding his sword, he’s always clenching and unclenching his fists down by his sides. He was head of Villa’s scouts or some such thing because he led about eighty men who rode out in front of everybody else.”

  Stone and Carothers made notes, and Carothers asked, “When did you realize you were close to the border?”

  “On Tuesday morning we reached the Boca Grande River. Cervantes and his men reconnoitered the countryside while everyone else practically drank the river dry and collapsed, worn out from the long, waterless march with practically nothing to eat.”

  She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Stone and Carothers sat back, saying nothing, eyeing Quent and me, waiting for her to compose herself. Before I could suggest taking a break, she looked up, eyes clear, sniffed, and continued.

  “Late that afternoon, we crossed the Boca and headed for Columbus. The wind came up and brought a hard blowin’ dust storm. We rode most of the night in that wind and dust until we came to a steep arroyo and camped down in it to get out of the worst of the wind. Shortly after dawn, the wind ended. Grit was blasted on me from my scalp to my toes. I’ve never felt so dirty in my life.

  “In the mornin’ light, the officers, usin’ field glasses, found Columbus pretty quick. In a little while, Villa and three of his officers rode over to the top of a close-by hill and spent the better part of the mornin’ studyin’ it and the army camp with their binoculars.”