When Silas figured they had come within a quarter mile of the hideout he asked Gus to rein up so he could dismount. Upon dismounting he started walking toward the hideout after telling Gus to stay behind at a safe distance so that the lookout guards would not see him before Silas reached them to explain that Gus was all right in spite of his soldier's uniform.
Gus reined the horse down to a slow walk, thus avoiding the Apache guards. When he caught up with Silas, his new friend was talking to two guards in their language. The guards looked up at Gus and grinned. Gus waved to them and grinned back. From there it was only a short distance to the hideout so Silas didn't bother to get back aboard Gus' horse. Gus followed Silas to the rim of the deep canyon and down the narrow trail that led to the mouth of the large cave that was Tara's place to hide himself and all his followers from the Mexican Army and anyone else that might try to find them for the purposes of doing harm. Beyond the mouth of the cave the trail went to the bottom of the canyon where the Apache had a series of corrals built to hold their horses for riding and other animals for their meals. Silas told Gus to follow him down the trail so they could leave the horse and the burro in the corrals. In one corral, Gus noticed four mules standing head to tails and swishing away flies.
It was a steep climb back to the mouth of the cave, but once there, Silas took Gus inside and introduced him to some of the people, including his wife. It was not long before Tara came forth to see who the visitor might be. Silas introduced Gus to the Apache leader. And then acted as interpreter during their conversation. Tara had several questions that Gus answered to his satisfaction. Then Gus asked him about the four mules he had seen in the corral down below.
"Apache love to eat mule better than horse," Tara said.
"Mules more better ta ride in mountains dan horse," Gus said.
"Apache not ride much, mostly walk or run. Horse is for long distance, but Apache fight better on foot."
Gus told Silas that he hated to see good mules killed to eat when there were plenty of horses for meals. "I have idea," Gus said. "Tell him that I trade him my horse for my choice of da mules, and I break da otha mules ta ride just ta stay here fo while."
Silas repeated in Apache what Gus had said to Tara. "What do we need mules broken to ride if we are going to eat them?" Tara asked Silas.
"That's something I will ask our guest," Silas said, and repeated Tara's question to Gus.
"He is really set on eatin' dem mules," Gus said. "Damn shame ta see dem good lookin' mules an thinkin' 'bout dem gettin' ate."
"I will give another try at convincing Tara to have you train the mules instead of the usual use by the Apache."
Silas turned to Tara. "From what this man has told me, he knows mules and how to train them better than most. I suggest that you allow him to train these four mules, trade one for his horse that will furnish a lot of food for your people. Once the mules are saddle broken they will be worth good money from the White Eyes. I will take the three remaining mules, sell them and buy ammunition or trade them for ammunition. Trained saddle mules will bring a lot more money than wild, untrained mules."
Tara sat in silence. Silas told Gus what he had said to the Apache leader. Gus smiled. "If dat doan convince dis man 'bout mules nuthin' will."
Finally, Tara stood up and, looking Gus straight into his eyes, said that he approved of the plan. Gus interpreted the leader's words. Gus smiled and thanked Silas. Then he turned to Tara. "Thanks you, Tara, I do m'best on dem mules. Thank ya fer letting me stay here wid you."
Gus again interpreted and Tara smiled again before turning and walking back to his living space deeper in the cave.
"How come ya gots to be sech friends wid Tara?" Gus asked.
"When he first came across the border from the United States, he came up here in the Sierra Madre. I had been here for quite a while prospecting and I knew about this cave that is an old abandoned mine. I showed it to Tara. He appreciated that help I gave him and has been my friend ever since."
Silas showed Gus where he could stay in the cave, and Gus brought in his bedroll that he had unlashed from the McClelland saddle earlier. The following day Gus spent the day with the mules. Between talking to them and getting to know them Gus wondered how he could get rid of the army uniform and find some decent clothes to wear that wouldn't make him stand out so much.
Upon returning to the cave Silas told him that one of the warriors wanted to talk to him about his uniform. Gus lifted his eyebrows and opened his mouth. "Silas, I be thinkin' 'bout this uniform all day. Spose this here warrior you talkin' ''bout want's it?"
"He seemed interested in acquiring it somehow when he talked to me."
"Can you find da warrior and bring him ta talk wid me?"
"I'll be right back. He lives in an adjoining shaft," Silas said.
Silas returned shortly accompanied by a warrior that was of a similar build to Gus, and acted as an interpreter as the two talked about the uniform.
"Gus, this man says that the mule with the white spots on its rump is his and that he wants to trade you the mule for your horse and your uniform," Silas said.
"Silas, that would leave me runnin' naked," Gus said.
Silas returned to talk with the Apache.
"He says he will give you his clothes in addition to the mule since he will wear the uniform from now on if you will agree to the trade."
"That sound good ta me," Gus said, and began unbuttoning the tunic.
The Apache had his leggings and buckskin shirt off quickly, handing them to Silas to give to Gus when he was ready to put them on. When Gus had his uniform trousers and tunic off, he handed them to Gus, too. Gus then handed the traded items to the new owner. The Apache began to laugh. Silas asked him what he was finding funny and the Apache told him.
"What was dat all 'bouts?" Gus asked.
"This warrior didn't know that you were all black until you took your clothes off," Silas said.
"I spose dat give him cause to laugh," Gus said, and chuckled.
After Gus finished dressing in the Apache garb, Silas looked him up and down. "That buckskin looks better on you, Gus, than it did on him," he said.
"I be goin' down to da corral and look at me in da water trough," Gus said, and left the cave.
Returning to the cave, Gus, wearing a broad grin on his face, walked up to Silas. "I wanted to get out of dat uniform so's people doan see me standin' different. Now what dey think 'bout a black Apache?"
Another warrior approached Gus and surprised him by speaking to him in English. "I would like to tell you a story," the warrior said. "You may not remember me, but I am the one who was wounded when my raiding group tried to steal the stage you were in with two White Eyes. I was on the ground with my eyes closed when one of the white eyes told the other to kill me and get going. The other "White Eye" said no that I might be a relative of a woman he called Doreentah and said she was his auntie."
"I 'member dat. I 'member I was glad Homa stopped Billy from killin' ya."
"I opened my eyes for a look at the man you call Homa, and I saw you, too. That is why I come to you now. I am married to the daughter of Doreentah. My wife is also the daughter of who Homa said was his Uncle Charlie. Homa was right that I might be a relative of Doreentah. She is my mother-in-law. It is Apache custom that I cannot speak to my mother-in-law, but I can take you to Doreentah and you can talk with her. She would like you to tell her where Homa is. Please come with me now. My wife wants to meet you, too."
Gus blinked his eyes and shook his head from side to side as he left his space to follow Doreentah's son-in-law, Koosalat.
At the end of a passageway that had been part of the old mine's labyrinth of horizontal shafts or drifts, Gus saw a middle aged woman sitting atop a pile of blankets looking at him intently as he approached. Koosalat had left him when they had reached within a few yards of her space. Her daughter, Gus assumed, sat next to her. The daughter was not as dark as the other Apache he had seen before.
"So
you are a friend of my Homer," she said after Gus had stopped in front of her.
"Yas'm, Homa good friend. I''m surprise to find ya up in da mountain like dis."
"I came here after my daughter was born in San Carlos because I do not like the ways of the White Eyes. It was a long journey returning to my people after Charlie got killed in that war." She pointed with an open hand to the young woman seated next to her on the blankets. "This is Charlie's and my daughter, Zaranda. As you know she is married to Koosalat, the man Homer saved on the stage road. Koosalat told me all about Homer telling your other friend not to kill him and how Homer also made him comfortable. Koosalat was surprised to hear my name mentioned by Homer."
"It almose magic me findin' you up heah," Gus said.
"Do you know where Homer is living?"
"He spose ta be in Tucson bein' a lawman," Gus said.
"Can you tell Homer where I am? I would be very happy to be able to see him. He was such a nice man, and my Charlie loved him very much."
"I doan know where I go, but I stay here fo while," Gus said.
"If you get to Tucson promise me you will tell Homer where I am and how to get here."
"I do best I can, Doreentah. I knows he would come here quick."
"Thank you, uh…"
"Me Gus. I happy to meet you, Doreentah."
Doreentah smiled at Gus warmly, and Gus smiled back. He hoped he would find Homer without getting himself caught by the army officers.
Chapter Fourteen
After leaving Tucson, Homer spent his first night at Hacienda de la Canoa, the most extensive ranch operation near Tucson. He decided that arriving at the Sopori Ranch around mid-day would be best, because he had no idea what kind of a reception Juan Elias would give him if he had found out that Billy was his friend. The following morning he started out from the Canoa Ranch early, leading his packhorse, and by mid-morning arrived at the road to La Aribac and San Fernando. The sun was almost directly overhead when he rode into the Sopori headquarters that was a short distance past the crossing of the Arroyo Sopori. The main house was easy to spot. He tied his horses to the hitch rail and walked up the walkway to the large carved wooden door. Four dogs had greeted him with barks and curious snarls. He talked to them calmly and they settled down to tail wagging. Before he could lift the large brass doorknocker, the door opened and a short, nice looking Mexican woman stood in the open doorway asking if she could be of any service to him.
"I would like to see El Señor Elias," Homer said.
"Un momento," she said. "Pasele…"
Homer accepted her invitation and entered the large foyer. A few minutes later he saw a tall Mexican man walking toward him, squinting slightly. "How can I help you?" he asked.
"I am Homer Crane, Mister Elias. I understand you have issued a wanted poster for a Billy Peabody."
"Yes, that is true. I am anxious to find him for a number of reasons, mainly to find my daughter," Elias said.
"I am a bounty hunter, Sir, and I am hoping to collect your reward for finding this man."
"If you can bring him in I will gladly pay the reward," Elias said.
"You said that your daughter is with him?"
"Yes, and that is why I want him for kidnapping her."
"Is there any place that you think they may have gone?"
"My daughter spent a few years in Tubutama down in the Altar Valley on the way to Altar and Caborca in Sonora, but I doubt very much if she would risk going there."
"Are you saying that she went away willingly with Billy Peabody?"
"I have no idea about that, but I doubt that she would lead this man to her aunt's home in Tubutama if she went willingly."
At that moment a woman came up to the two men, and asked what was happening.
"It is nothing, Leticia. This is Homer Crane. He is a bounty hunter and is looking for Billy and María."
"Mister Crane, I would look for them in Tubutama if I were you."
"Now, Leticia, you know María would never lead him to your sister's house."
Homer looked at Leticia Elias, because her voice sounded like she did not agree with her domineering husband. She winked her left eye at Homer. He returned to looking at Juan Elias. "Well, thank you, Sir. I had better be getting on my way. I will ask at the border if anyone has seen them."
"That is a good idea," Elias said. "They may well have gone into Mexico to avoid Arizona law officers, because I have plenty of influence in these parts."
Homer excused himself again and left the foyer. The dogs were lying in the shade of a tall cottonwood tree, and stayed there as Homer returned to mount his horse again. He knew where he was heading. He had no idea where Tubutama might be, but he knew where The Altar Valley was. In his mind he knew that someone closer to the border would have all the information he would need.
He reined his horse to the west following a wagon road that was rutted and showed signs of some heavy use from mining vehicles. It was not far from the Sopori headquarters that he saw the ore wagons that had caused the ruts in the wagon road. The wagons, parked in a clearing beside the wagon road, were empty, but the four mules pulling each of the two wagons, stood patiently with the traces dropped from the double trees. There was no sign of the drivers, and Homer did not stop to introduce himself to the mules. He rode past the Cerro Colorado Mountains, and his horse and packhorse slowed their paces while climbing a long hill that was covered with grasses. At the summit, Homer looked westward and saw the village of Arivaca, that some called La Aribac, that consisted of five adobe buildings built on both sides of the wagon road that veered slightly north as it left the village behind.
Homer admired the extensive grasslands dotted with cattle in good condition grazing constantly with their heads to the ground. He stopped at an arroyo running with clear water to allow his saddle horse and packhorse to drink their fill. The sun was sinking toward the western horizon when he reached the point where the road he had been following joined another wagon road that came from Tucson down the Altar Valley. He knew that the southbound road must lead to San Fernando, across the border in Sonora. He reined the horse south at the junction and arrived at a ranch headquarters close to sunset. The rancher, a Mexican with a bushy mustache and wrinkled forehead was hospitable and offered Homer a bed for the night.
While he enjoyed a supper of beefsteak and beans, Homer learned from the rancher all about the trails that eventually would take him to Tubutama. The man described the mission church there and how the town had been established on a mesa overlooking the Altar River of Sonora.
Homer rose early and was riding into San Fernando at sunrise. The village seemed bare of any commercial buildings with only small houses that did not show much prosperity. Following the Mexican rancher's directions, Homer reined his horse to the east following the Río Altar that passed through a large ranch called "Agua Nueva"," or New Water. He rode past a well that filled an earthen tank where several cattle had come in early for a drink. He reined his horse and led the packhorse to the water. Homer sat as the two horses drank their fill.
At the bottom of a long hill, the trail turned south. Again he met up with the river channel that had only a small stream within its banks. There were various leafy trees growing along the riverbanks. Homer glanced around as he rode because this was all new country for him and he wanted to get acquainted with the surroundings. Grasses grew in abundance on the river's floodplain. Some of them grew taller, others took up the spaces in-between the bunch grass. Cattle grazed on the flood plain. Those cattle that Homer saw were in good condition and seemed to look at home along the river.
Homer had been watching the billowing white thunderheads heading north slowly and steadily. The summer convectional storms had drenched the southern Arizona desert several times before he rode to Rancho Sopori so he knew what might be in store. At close intervals he looked skyward to gauge the arrival of the possible storm. Reaching back of the cantle on his saddle, he untied the saddle strings that held his slicker in pla
ce, brought it around into his lap and slowly unrolled it. He didn't want the horse to spook at his action. Slowly he put his arms into the sleeves one after the other, and straightened the slicker to fit as best he could.
Around a bend in the trail that followed the river's winding course an adobe barn caught his eye, and he reined the horse toward it. Since there were no other buildings in sight, Homer wondered what a barn was doing out in the middle of nowhere. At the end of the barn that faced the surrounding hills he found a large entrance without doors that opened into a single room inside of which was a small pile of what looked like a supply of firewood. Homer thought that the wood must be under the roof to keep dry. He didn't question the barn's use any further, and decided that it would be a good place to stay until the storm had passed through.
He rode outside for another look at the clouds. They had changed. The bottoms of the once totally white clouds were now black and ominous looking. In the distance he could still see some of the clouds' tops that remained white and billowed. Suddenly a bolt of lightning streaked earthward and the cracking sound of thunder roared. Quickly he reined the horse around and led the packhorse into the barn. Homer dismounted, and dropped the reins to "ground hitch" his horse. That was something he had learned since coming West. Here horsemen trained their horses to remain in one place without straying if the reins were on the ground. He tied the lead rope from the packhorse to the saddle horn. Then, he strolled over to the entrance to follow the path of the storm. No sooner had he poked his head outside when the rain came in a deluge. It fell in sheets, splattering noisily on the dry ground. Homer ducked back inside the barn, deciding to watch the storm from the shelter of the roof rather than venture outside and get soaked. He took off his still dry slicker and rolled it up tightly before tying in back of the cantle on his saddle.
Along the Trail to Freedom Page 10
