"Gus grew up with mules, and had to learn to understand them or he would probably have felt the lash on his back," Homer said.
"So, tell me what you think about these mares and what you think about going into the mule business," Billy said.
"These mares look like they come from good stock and by the looks of these mule foals I would say they are producing good foals. About going into the mule business, I think I would ask questions about the mule market down here in Sonora. I'll bet your best market will be in Tucson at the horse and mule auction they hold twice a year up there. I went to one a few months back and there was quite a crowd attending the sale."
"I don't know if I would want to risk running into Juan Elias by taking mules to that auction," Billy said. "If he has put that dodger out on me once, he'll probably keep looking for me and María forever. I don't want to have to kill my father-in-law."
"Once he finds out that you two are married, he will probably get used to the idea. But, you never know about men like that who think they are stallions."
"Well, as they say, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Let's get up on those hills over yonder and I'll show you the range land that goes with this place."
They booted their horses into fast walks as they crossed the irrigated land to a gate through which the trail to the foothills passed. Billy dismounted and opened the gate, and Homer rode through to the other side of the rock wall that separated the irrigated pasture from the higher country. As they rode through the rangeland they inspected the cattle that grazed on the still green grasses that covered the hills. The summer rain had turned the hills green with the strong perennial grasses that grew in abundance. Once at the top of the hills they reined in and turned around to look across the valley to the other hilly country to the west.
"This is pretty big country, don't you think, Homer?"
"That is what it is. This is a broad valley. I think it can be called a broad series of valleys because I can see a lot of rivers coming down from the mountains in the east. I also think that what cattle we have seen are easily as good as any across the border. The long horns are pretty and they all have long enough legs to cover a lot of country for a day's grazing."
"I was thinking the same thing about them. However, I think I will try to talk María's uncle from Oquitoa into coming here for a look-see before I get into any dickering with old man Romero. In fact I think I will ask her uncle to do all the talking just as long as I know what is going on."
"I think you are right to do that. One of these days you will learn enough Spanish to do all the business yourself."
Billy and Homer rode the few miles to Oquitoa the next day, found María's uncle, Ramón Samaniego, and told him what Billy needed from him. They rode back the same day. As he had promised, Ramón arrived the following morning ready to meet with old man Romero for negotiations on the hacienda.
By late afternoon, Billy had agreed with Romero on the price for the hacienda that included all the cattle, the mares, jacks and mule foals. There were also fifteen mule yearlings that Romero tossed in to the deal.
The following day, Billy and Ramón went to Altar to complete the paperwork for the purchase. Part of the transaction allowed Romero to be able to live in his old house until he could find a place somewhere in the valley to move to. This arrangement was fine with Billy because his plans included a new house for him and María to be built at the site of the original hacienda headquarters.
On their way back to Tubutama from Altar, Ramón said, "You really got a good deal especially after he saw those gold coins you had in your hands. You did well convincing the old man that he wouldn't get any more money from anyone else because nobody else was interested in raising mules."
Homer had spent the days exploring the valley and westward to another settlement called San Juan. He noticed that raising cattle was the principal way of life there and elsewhere in the valley. There were a few patches of farmland that were mostly next to or close by the Altar River to be able to take advantage of the irrigation water. However, San Juan was a dusty village with only a few scattered houses and shabby looking corrals. The river was a long distance to the east.
Chapter Sixteen
Gus had enjoyed eight months with Silas and his Apache friends in the Sierra Madre. But at times that became more frequent as time went by, Gus found the place too confining. He talked to Silas about his feelings and Silas understood because he too had had similar feelings that only his mining activity gave him relief from the days of inactivity except for occasional hunting parties. One morning Silas asked Gus to follow him to his mine because he wanted to talk with him about a plan he had been thinking about.
Once outside the mineshaft entrance, Silas sat down on a large smooth boulder, and beckoned Gus to do the same. "Gus, I have been thinking about taking you on a trip to see a mule ranch I knew a few years before I came up here on the mountain. It will take us at least a week to ride there and back, but I think you will see something that will make your heart jump up and down."
"You tole me 'bout dat place," Gus said. "I think I like to go dere."
"I am sure you would like to see the mules and the mares the old man breeds to get them. I spent a couple of days there. Old man Romero must be getting along toward seventy or even seventy-five by now. I don't even know if he is still there, but it would be worth finding out."
"When you wants ta go?"
"After the next hunt, so we will have enough carne seca to last us. I heard they were planning to go hunting tomorrow."
"Sounds good ta me, Silas," Gus said. "I is ready when you is."
Silas and Gus began their trip two days hence. They didn't bother with a pack burro because Silas intended to return to the mountain sanctuary of the Apache band. Gus was not sure about where he was going, but he had only a few possessions and did not see the need for a pack animal. However, he took a great deal of pride in the saddle mule he had bargained for and trained.
They started from the middle of the ponderosa pine forest that covered the tops of the Sierra Madre. The going was smooth because Silas knew and followed game trails through the trees. They arrived at a spot where they could see out over the broad expanse of valley that extended west to the coast of the Gulf of Cortez. Silas reined in his horse and turned backward toward Gus.
"If you look out west as far as you can see you might catch a glimpse of the Gulf of Cortez," Silas said. "It is too far away to get a clear look because from way up here it looks like part of the valley land. I have been here on a real clear day and thought I could see it."
"What you call Gulf of Cortez?"
"The Gulf of Cortez is a long bay that separates the peninsula of Baja California from the mainland of Sonora and Sinaloa," Silas said.
"I doan know what ya mean, Silas."
"I went down to the coast once at Guaymas that is a port where I got some great fish to eat. I even thought about staying there and becoming a fisherman instead of a miner. I like fish, but I guess I like roaming the mountains better. So, I left. The gulf is almost like a sea. In fact some call it The Sea of Cortez. On the other side there are high mountains that are like a border. I never did go out in a boat to the other side."
"I been around watah back in Loosianna, but I lived on a plantation."
"We won't be going to the Gulf this trip, but at least you know it's there," Silas said.
With that they began the descent from the summit of the mountain. After half a day's ride they approached a small village of dwellings made from sticks and mud with a few adobe houses mixed in. As they rode through the village Gus noticed that the people looked more Apache than Mexican. He asked Silas about them.
"These people are Tohono. Some Mexicans call them Pima Indians. They have lived in these mountains a long time and they didn't change their way of life to any great degree after the Spaniards arrived," Silas said. "This village is called Yecora. There are a few mines in the vicinity, but I never have cared to look for any rock wit
h color here. I don't like to mine near people."
They turned to a trail that took them north and west that followed a mountain stream that carried a small amount of water. But Gus could see that there had been times when the stream had run over its banks, and not too long ago. The lower they rode the larger the stream became, both in width and in the amount of water it carried. The vegetation had changed from the tall pine high up, piñon and juniper next and then there lower down were large patches of oak trees with an under story of grass that looked vigorous and healthy. Silas reined up in an almost level clearing between the oaks to make camp. The nearby river was perfect for watering the animals and to replenish their own supply.
"How far dis mule farm?" Gus asked.
"Another three days if we don't get a storm to swell the rivers," Silas said. "Once we reach the desert the land levels out so it will be easier traveling, but it will also be hotter."
"It already hot ta me," Gus said.
"But it's a dry heat here compared to where you come from," Silas said. "I have heard tell that you can stand still and still sweat down there in Louisiana."
"If you be slave like I was, ya don't stand still or da man in charge give ya da whip."
"I keep hearing you tell about that sort of thing and it makes me to believe I never want to go near that part of the country with that sort of cruelty going on."
"I doan neva wanna go back," Gus said, and spit. "Doze mens treats der horses better den der slaves."
Chapter Seventeen
After two more days, they arrived in the village of Santa Ana where they rested next to the river outside of the town. They did not make camp until they had ridden a mile or so west of the settlement. Before dismounting, Silas pointed back toward Santa Ana with his thumb without turning around. "That town is sometimes a place where bandidos stay. Santa Ana is at a crossroads so there are travelers coming in from four directions," Silas said. "We should make Tubutama tomorrow. That's where the mule farm is located."
"That got me all a wonderin'" Gus said. "I hopes da mule man needs me ta train dem critters."
"That's what I am hoping for you," Silas said. "I know the owner is pretty old and needs someone to take over his mares and mules."
They had just gotten comfortable on their bedrolls when two riders approached at a gallop and reined up just before they ran over the two figures on the ground. The two dismounted quickly, drew their pistols, and, in Spanish, told Gus and Silas to put their hands in the air. By that time the two travelers were sitting up and looking into the barrels of the bandits' pistols. "No Spanish," Silas said, keeping his hands down bracing him in a sitting position.
The two gunmen spoke to them in Spanish again, but Silas remained sitting with his hands bracing himself. He quickly looked down and grabbed his own pistol that was next to him as usual on the bedroll. He lifted it quickly and fired first one shot into the man on the right, then rolled over as the second man fired and missed. Silas' second shot went into the heart of the second bandit. Both stayed motionless in a heap on the ground. Gus put his hands over his eyes.
"I neva seen sech shootin' as dat," Gus said. "How come dem fellas din shoot ya first?"
"I expect they would have eventually, but I reckon they didn't see that pistol of mine next to me," Silas said. "I am no gunfighter and obviously those two are not either or we would both be dead right now."
Gus' eyes stayed wide. "When dat furs shot went I cloze ma eyes an tink I is a dead man. Den I hears moe shots so I wonders what is happenin. When I hears doze bodies fallin' from da hosses I figure I is still alive. I is still scared, Silas."
Silas reached over and patted Gus on his shoulder. "You're just fine, Gus," Silas said.
Silas and Gus rose from their bedrolls, grabbed the two dead bandits by their feet and dragged them away from the camp and far enough so that the bodies would not spook the mule and horse. Then they caught the two horses the bandits had ridden in on and carefully loaded the two dead bodies on top of the saddles and tied them on securely.
"We need to lead these two horses close to town and tie them to a tree so they will get taken care of in the morning," Silas said.
"Doan dey has a sheriff ta leab dem wid?"
"This is Mexico and the law is different here. Their system is Napoleonic Code and a man is guilty until he proves himself innocent. But what is more important is that we are from the United States and Mexico doesn't like Americans after we took half their country after the war with them. We call it The Mexican War. They call it The War with the United States. If we brought these into town tonight we might sit in their jail for five years, maybe ten. It's best we break camp and get further toward the Altar Valley. We didn't stop anywhere in Santa Ana so whoever is the law there won't know who he is looking for in the morning. We should be off the main wagon road by the time Santa Ana wakes up."
"How doze bandits knows we was camped here?"
"It was probably one of them that followed us after we left the river and then he went back to get his compadre. This country ain't much different than north of the border when it comes to banditry."
"Mebbe we betta off wid da Apaches up on da mountain," Gus remarked.
"I spend most of my time up there, but I'm a miner, not a mule man."
"I gots to admit," Gus said. "I does love mules."
With the dead men loaded and their camp broken down, Silas handed the reins of one of the bandit's horses to Gus and he took the other's. Silas repeated what he had said before to make sure Gus understood him. "We'll lead these horses closer to town and tie them to a tree. In the morning we'll be off the wagon road so if the Mexican law comes looking for us we will be out of their sight. But, the way I have this figured is what law there is in Santa Ana will be glad to find these bandits out of business."
Once the horses laden with the dead bandits were safely tied to a mesquite tree near the road, Silas offered Gus one of the pistols that he had taken from one of the dead bodies.
"I doan tink dat a good idée, Silas," Gus said. "If I gots a gun den somebody mebbe tink I dayngerus and shoot me dead befo I can shoot him dead. I seen too much gun stuff awready. I doan git how you can kill two bandits and be as calm as can be after."
"That was not the first time I have had a run in with Mexican bandits, Gus. It is more common down here around the towns. That's one reason I like living in the mountains with the Apache."
Silas stuck the pistol in his belt and mounted his horse. They left the scene and headed toward Altar, but they turned north before reaching the town that was the center for the district. Silas knew a road that saved many hours of riding. It was narrow and could be traversed by a wagon so the two rode next to one another until they reached a long hill from which the village of Tubutama was visible in the distance.
Silas reined in his horse. Gus did the same. "There's Tubutama," Silas said, pointing across the valley made by the river. "That big white building is their mission church that has been there since the Franciscan missionaries arrived."
"I doan unerstan," Gus said.
"When the Spaniards came they brought Catholic priests as missionaries to the Indians to convert them from their beliefs to Catholicism. The first were the Jesuits but they got too strong and the Spaniards ran them off in 1767. The Spaniards brought in the Franciscan priests but wouldn't let them own land. It was the Franciscans that built the big mission churches. You probably saw that big one in Tucson called San Xavier."
"I 'member that was a long ways from da town," Gus said.
Silas booted his horse and the two continued their ride to Tubutama. Entering the village from the south they came face to face with the church that completely dominated the plaza. Across the narrow road to the east of the church, they reined up in front of the only cantina in town. A sign with withering paint that hung in a lopsided way over the entrance announced "Caballo Bayo"."
"Let's try a little of their mescal," Silas said. "The last time I rode through here it was smooth as silk
and tasty. I hope it is the same, but you never know out here so far away from the big towns."
They entered the bar and walked over to stand in front of the counter made from a large plank of mesquite. The man behind the bar poured them two shots of mescal. He recognized Silas and welcomed him. "Where have you been all these years, you old miner?"
"I found a good home in the Sierra Madre, Noriberto," Silas said. "How has life been treating you?"
"Not bad at all," Noriberto said. "My padre passed on six months ago, but I will get over it someday."
"Sorry to hear that. Your father was a good cowman and smart enough to sell out before that last drought and start this cantina. This is a friend of mine, Gus Davis. Gus, this is Noriberto Burruel."
"Pleased ta meecha," Gus said.
"The same," Noriberto said.
"Gus is a mule man and we came here to find out if old man Romero was still looking for someone to train his mules."
"Señor Romero sold out to a gringo and moved into town. He was going to stay in the old house, but he lasted two weeks and couldn't stand the fact that he was no longer the owner of Rancho Romero."
"I assume that the new owner is at the ranch?"
"The new owner moved to the ranch as soon as they had finished the house that they built on the old foundation of the hacienda."
Noriberto poured Silas and Gus drinks of his mescal from a bottle that lacked a label. They raised their shot glasses and said "Salud" to Noriberto and sipped the drinks. Once the glasses were drained, Silas put a coin on the bar. Noriberto waved his hand and said, "Es Mío"."
"Thanks Noriberto," Silas said. "I reckon we'll have enough sun to reach Ranch Romero if we leave before that mescal gets any tastier."
They went back to the hitch-rail, mounted, and continued through the village. They followed the trail down the hill from the mesa, crossed the river and headed over the road past La Reforma until they came to the side trail leading to Rancho Romero. The trail through the mesquite trees and catclaw went for a quarter mile until it opened onto a large green field. Immediately, Gus saw the mares with their mule colts and fillies at the far end. He kept focused on the animals, but Silas drew his attention to the big house that stood almost in the middle of the pasture. "That house was not here the last time I came through," Silas said. "There was just a thicket of bushes."
Along the Trail to Freedom Page 12
