Along the Trail to Freedom

by John Duncklee

They returned to the Mexican restaurant and ordered the beefsteak again. As they satisfied their hunger they discussed the upcoming trip to Paso del Norte with Gus driving the stagecoach. "We will ride 'shotgun' for you, Gus," Billy said. "I've heard there's Apache that roam around where we are going."

  Returning to the stage stop, the three talked with the station man and got all the directions he said they would need. He warned them about Jornada del Muerte, a long stretch of road that was the most risky part of the journey because of Apache raiders. The four horses were hooked up to the stage. Gus climbed up to the driver's seat and Homer climbed up to sit beside him. Billy sat inside the coach facing the rear in case anybody intent on holding them up would ride in from behind. Gus lifted the reins, slapped them on the horses' rumps and the coach moved down the road to Paso del Norte. The stage stops were twenty miles apart and the station hands were quick to exchange the horses. Gus didn't push the horses as fast as most stagecoach drivers because he was in no hurry to get to Paso del Norte or anywhere else. He knew that nobody was keeping track of the time it took for him to drive from one stop to another. Gus was happy that the road was well worn so he didn't need the map.

  Everything went well until they had traveled close to half way to their destination. Shortly after leaving a rest stop where fresh horses got hitched to the coach, Homer glanced around to the rear and saw four horsemen approaching at full gallop. He yelled down to Billy who was inside the coach looking out of the window at the passing scenery. "Billy," Homer yelled. "Look behind. We have company."

  Billy poked his head out of the window and saw the horsemen gaining on the coach. He waved at Homer to show that he had seen what was happening. Homer kept his position, turned on the driver's bench to keep his eyes on the intruders. The riders finally got close enough so that Homer identified them as Indians and assumed they were Apache warriors from the warnings and descriptions that the station man in Santa Fe had given them. He turned toward Gus, and realizing that his friend driving the four-horse team had not yet realized what was happening, he yelled over to him, "Gus, we have visitors. Apache. Better get these horses going faster."

  Gus looked around toward the rear, saw the Indians approaching at a fast gallop, turned back and slapped the rumps of his horses and accompanied that with a yell to "giddup" several times.

  The coach moved faster and the Apache raiders kicked their horses' flanks as they began notching arrows into their bows. Billy leaned out of the coach window on the left side with his rifle pointed to the rear at the followers. The lurching coach made him wonder about how to aim his weapon effectively. Sighting the rifle as best he could, Billy squeezed the trigger when he thought he had a target in his sights. Holding the rifle pointed toward the Indians he saw blood come from one of the raider's shoulders and then watched as the Apache fell from his galloping horse to the trail below. Billy withdrew his rifle and quickly reloaded it. By the time he had accomplished that the other three raiders had caught up with the coach and were passing it. One of the Indians shot an arrow at Homer up on the seat next to Gus. The arrow missed, but its closeness made Homer jerk around, lower his rifle toward the Indian and pull the trigger. The shot, thrown off by the jouncing of the coach, hit the Indian's horse just behind its rider. The horse jumped as it galloped, tossing its head back and forth before it tumbled down in a heap on the ground. The Apache jumped off before the horse hit the ground and rolled away before the horse landed. During this time the other two Apache had almost reached the two lead horses drawing the coach, one on each side. Leaning out of the coach as far as he dared without falling, Billy aimed at the back of the Indian on the right side as the raider reached over and grabbed the brass balls on the top of the hames on the horse's harness. The Indian's horse galloped ahead of the front team, and Homer took aim on the back of the Apache that was trying to stop the team on the stagecoach. The Apache on the left side had an arrow notched and ready. Just as Homer squeezed the trigger on his rifle aimed at the Indian on the right, the other Apache sent an arrow toward Homer. The obsidian point on the Apache arrow grazed Homer's left shoulder, but went sailing on, hitting the ground without further harm. The Apache that Homer had shot as he hung on to the hames fell with a bullet in his right side just below his arm. As he fell, one leg got tangled in the trace chain when the lead horse slowed quickly when he felt the Indian fall. Billy took aim with his rifle and hit the Indian that had sent the arrow toward Homer. Billy pulled the trigger and the Indian fell from his horse onto the ground. The remaining Apache reined his horse away from the stagecoach and brought it to a halt. Homer told Gus to stop the coach so that he could get the Apache off the trace chain. Gus pulled back on the reins and yelled "whoa"." The horses came gradually to a stop.

  Homer jumped off the coach and ran forward to where the Apache remained tangled and bruised badly from bouncing along on the road. Homer lifted the man up and with one hand grabbed his left leg to get it away from the trace chain. Putting the Apache on the ground, Homer noticed that the man still breathed.

  "Come here, Billy," he called. "We've got a live one here."

  Billy came bounding from the coach and stood looking down at the wounded Apache.

  "We might as well finish this critter off," Billy said. "We were lucky this time."

  "I think we can save the man's life," Homer said. "Get that headband from his head and I'll try to stuff an end in the bullet hole."

  "Hell's fire, shoot the buzzard, Homer. He would have killed you in a heartbeat."

  "The important thing is that he didn't and now he needs help."

  Billy handed Homer the scarlet headband after taking it off the Apache. Homer took one end and began stuffing it into the bullet hole beneath the man's arm. "The bullet went through a muscle and I don't think it hit anything vital."

  "What are you figuring to hold that headband on with?" Billy asked.

  "Take this belt," Gus called down from the driver's seat. He had taken the belt from his trousers and tossed it down to Homer.

  "What are you going to use to hold those trousers up?" Homer asked.

  "I find sumthin somewhere 'long da way," Gus said.

  Homer finished dressing the wound and bound the bandage with Gus' belt. "Let's lift him out of the way, Billy. Go easy lifting him because I got the blood stopped and now I sure don't want the fellow to bleed to death."

  The Apache still seemed unconscious when they left him lying at the side of the trail. Billy went back inside the coach and Homer motioned to the unharmed Apache to come and get his friend. Then he sat down and Gus slapped the horses' rumps with the reins and the stage continued on its journey to Paso del Norte.

  Aside from watching a large band of wild horses running with the stage, the remaining segment of the trip was uneventful. They spent their last night at La Posta, the stage stop in Mesilla beside the Rio Grande River. After the many rough miles in the coach, Billy went to bed right after he finished supper. The other two followed shortly after that. Gus told Homer that he was surprised that the station master at La Posta let him bunk there for the night since he was used to being classified as "Colored" in the South and forced to sleep in the barn.

  Mesilla was the Territorial Capitol and as a result there were government buildings, mostly situated around the town plaza. At one end a Catholic Church dominated the scene, as was typical of most towns near the border and in the interior of Mexico. The three stagecoach hands wasted little time departing for Paso del Norte after their breakfast. Gus drove the stage right next to the station, reined the horses to a halt and the three went in to see the stationmaster to give him the messages from Santa Fe. The station master, a portly man of middle age wearing a black felt hat that had sweat stains circling the crown and spreading outward on the brim, told the three to wait until he could summon Enrique Salazar, the owner of the stage line. The three sat on chairs in the small office and waited, discussing what their next move might be. Gus shook his head in what looked like a feeling of hopelessness, b
ut he was at a loss as to where he wanted to go or what he wanted to do to make a living. Billy wanted to become a cowboy. Homer told the others that he had the notion to become a deputy Marshall or some other law enforcement officer. Billy stood up, pointed his right hand toward Homer and wiped his forehead with his left shirtsleeve. "I want to know why you didn't kill that Injun when you had the chance," Billy said.

  "I thought it was bad enough to have to shoot the man when he tried to stop the horses," Homer said.

  "But, he's an Injun and he just might live and come around again somewhere to shoot you."

  "Billy, you probably never had an Uncle Charlie," Homer said, and smiled as he remembered his father's brother.

  "What's that got to do with shootin' an Injun?"

  "Uncle Charlie was my favorite uncle. Everyone seems to have a favorite uncle, but Uncle Charlie was my favorite because Uncle Charlie was my only uncle. He was my father's younger brother and my father always said Charlie was 'spoiled' from being the youngest."

  "I guess I had an Uncle Charlie, too," Billy said. "But mine was Uncle Bob. He was my mother's brother, but older than she was. He always was protectin' Ma. He even got into a couple of fights protectin' her even after she married Pa."

  "Maybe Uncle Charlie was spoiled, but he was smart," Homer said. "I always thought he might have been smarter than those that called him 'spoiled'.' He used to take me fishing and would tell me stories about all kinds of things. His favorite stories were about the West. Whenever he told me about the West he would get a certain look in his eyes and he would breathe faster than usual. I remember the day he took me down to the creek and after we had caught a good string of fish he told me that he was leaving for the West the following morning."

  "Just like that?" Billy asked.

  Gus kept looking at Homer as he told about his Uncle Charlie. He remembered when his Uncle Amos was sold to a plantation owner from Alabama and he never saw Uncle Amos again.

  "Uncle Charlie left just as he said he would. I was only ten-years-old then. I remember going out behind the springhouse and crying for a long time after I watched him begin walking down the road to town. I had had far more fun with Uncle Charlie than I ever did with my father."

  "Did you ever see Uncle Charlie again?" Billy asked.

  "Four years later Uncle Charlie came back with his Apache wife, Doreentah. I was never so happy as I was when I saw Uncle Charlie walking in from the road to the house. I had been splitting firewood when I saw movement out by the road and recognized Uncle Charlie. I dropped the axe, and ran as fast as I could to meet him. He stood there grinning from ear to ear. I grabbed him and hugged him for a long time. Finally, he gently pushed me away and introduced me to Doreentah. That was the first time I had even seen her because my eyes had been only on my Uncle Charlie."

  "What did you think about your Uncle Charlie marryin' an Injun?"

  "I looked at her and shook her hand. She smiled and melted my heart. She looked different than any woman I had even seen, different even from the local Indians, the Iroquois. But she was pretty, especially when she smiled. I could tell that she smiled from her heart and not just because it was the thing to do."

  "This is a good story, but it doesn't answer my question on why you didn't kill that Apache when you had the chance, and even doctored him up so he might live," Billy said.

  "Let me finish the story about Uncle Charlie so you might be able to understand why I didn't kill that Apache. Charlie and Doreentah stayed with us for a while until Charlie moved to another house in the country where he grew things and raised a few sheep. He never seemed to worry about having any money and he never held a job of any kind. This bothered my father and mother, but they never mentioned anything to Charlie about their concerns. I didn't care how Charlie lived, I was just glad to have him around to go fishing with and to talk to me about Arizona and his experiences living with the Apache."

  "How long did your Uncle Charlie stay near you?" Billy asked.

  "Uncle Charlie stayed until just after the Battle of Fort Sumter in April 1861. He joined up with the Union Forces because he didn't believe in slavery. Charlie had been the bright and shining light of my family to me and I was sad to see him go off to war. I was even sadder when we got word that he had been killed at Bull Run. I must have cried for a month."

  "What happened to his Apache wife?" Billy asked.

  He glanced over at Gus and could see tears in his eyes. He had not been aware he had been listening that intently.

  "Doreentah came by our house and said she wanted to talk with me. We went down by the creek where Uncle Charlie and I had once spent many hours fishing and talking. She told me that she was going back to Arizona to be with her people. She also told me that she was expecting a baby. '"I wish Charlie could have lived to be the baby's father,'" she had said.

  "I began to cry again and she comforted me in her arms. First I lost my dear Uncle Charlie and now I was losing my Auntie Doreentah who I loved very much."

  "What did you do then?" Billy asked.

  "What could I do? The next year I joined the Union Forces. I was not much of a soldier because I didn't want to kill another human being. I told you about never pulling the trigger on my rifle in that Antietam battle."

  "I remember you telling me that when we first met up," Billy said.

  "Well, now you should know why I didn't kill that Apache back there when I could have easily. He might have been a relative to Doreentah, and that would be my relative, too. Uncle Charlie told me that the Apache bands were spread out all over Arizona and New Mexico."

  Billy had sat down again in the middle of Homer's story about Uncle Charlie and Doreentah. The stationmaster entered along with a well-dressed Mexican man, and introduced him to the three. "This is Señor Enrique Salazar, owner of the stage line."

  Homer gave Salazar the message from Santa Fe and Salazar thanked him. He also handed each of the three friends twenty dollar gold coins.

  "I want to thank you three for getting my stage here safely. Would you like jobs as drivers or shotgun riders?"

  "No, thank you, Señor Salazar," Homer said. "We are bound for Arizona. Perhaps you can tell us the easiest way to get to Tucson. My uncle told me that it was a good place to start from."

  "Well, getting to Tucson should be no problem," Salazar said. "Butterfield quit his line for the duration of the war, but there are two short lines. One goes from here to Silver City and then from Silver City you can take another short line that will take you all the way into Tucson."

  "Where do we find the station for Silver City?" Homer asked.

  "George, here, can give you directions," he said, nodding to the stationmaster.

  Chapter Four

  The desert had greened with spring weeds and wild flowers by the time the three arrived in Tucson. The flowers of the poppies were like carpets of gold. Tucson was a dusty town with a mostly Mexican population and the young men were glad to find a small Mexican restaurant with good food and cold beer. The first day they walked around town taking in the sights that were few and far between. During breakfast of their second day they decided to split up in order to look for jobs. Gus said that he had seen some colored soldiers watering their horses in a trough, and Homer had located the Marshall's office. Billy said he would find out which bar was popular with the cattle ranchers. They agreed to meet for a noon meal at the Mexican restaurant called Pepe's.

  Homer was the last of the three to arrive at Pepe's restaurant. He walked in and sat at the table with his friends. "I got lucky," Homer said. "The Marshall was happy to see me interested in working as a deputy. When I gave him my name he asked if I was any kin to Charlie Crane, the prospector who married an Apache and went back to New York. That question and answer surprised both of us. He seemed saddened when I told him about Charlie's death. I start tomorrow as Homer Crane, Deputy Marshall, Arizona Territory. How did you fellows do with your morning?"

  "I gots to go see some lieutenant 'bout jinin' up," Gus said.
"I met a couple fellers that tole me 'bout becomin' a Bufflow soldier."

  "When do you meet the lieutenant?" Homer asked.

  "In da moanin' at dere barracks jes nort o town."

  "How about you, Billy," Homer asked.

  "I reckon it'll take a spell to get located. I found out that I gotta see the foremen out on the ranches 'cause the ranchers don't hire and fire. I met up with one cowboy that just came in from Colorado and he told me what to do. He came down here to get out of the snow."

  "That sounds really good for only one morning's looking," Homer said. "I think I will look around for a place to rent so I can try to get settled in before morning. If I find a place, you and Gus can stay with me until you get settled with work."

  Homer wandered around looking for a place to live, but ended up staying in the hotel on Meyer Street. The other two found him, and also spent the night there. The following morning all three seemed to know that it would be the last meal they would share for some time. After breakfast Homer went to the Marshall's office and the Marshall told him about a room he could rent from a bartender named George Hand. He followed the directions and made a deal for the room. Gus joined his new friends and joined the company that was known as "Buffalo Soldiers" because of their kinky hair that looked like the hair on buffalo. The sergeant in charge told Gus that he would soon battle the Apache that had been raiding ranches along the San Pedro River.

  Billy Peabody found the foreman of the Sopori Ranch that was south of Tucson near Arivaca. Joe Sullivan signed Billy after a short conversation, warning Billy that he might have to fight off Apache raiders as part of his job as cowboy.

  Homer started his employment as a deputy shortly before noon. He felt strange with the star badge pinned on his chest over his heart. He and the Marshall sat across from each other in the Marshall's office while the old lawman gave Homer a long description about what he expected of his deputy. Homer wondered how long he would be able to put up with someone like Marshall Abner Dobson giving him orders. Homer listened carefully when Dobson told him about the Apache raiders that plagued the territory.