Camp Camel: The Heart of Texas

by Eaton, Rosemary

  Bryan put the child down on the rocks and cleaned out it’s mouth. He was looking for a string and there were none at hand to tie off the cord. It would wait. There were people who just let it be until it naturally closed and others that never cut it and let it fall off by itself. So much for white man’s methods. He was just glad he didn’t have to chew it into. He had bigger issues to deal with. The baby hadn’t breathed yet. Bryan’s hands were shaking as he turned the baby upside down facing away from her and slapped the butt cheeks and the boy gave out his own scream in the night as if protesting his sudden return from the spirit world. Bryan took the cord and muttered, “Sorry,” and cut it about two inches away from the baby’s body.

  Jenny muttered, “Ssarre?”

  Bryan wrapped the new born and smiled, “Another boy Jenny. I know you were probably hoping for a little girl this time. Maybe ours will be a girl or maybe you’ve had enough and we just leave well enough alone.”

  Jenny’s eyes closed. She could not look at what came next.

  Bryan looked at the bloody mess on the rocks in alarm. There was so much blood. She was losing this fight and now that the baby was out, he didn’t know if she would fight for her own life. Bryan put the baby back down and took her face in his fingers and shook it gently, “Stay. I order you to stay Jenny. Don’t you dare die on me after all of this.”

  Sparrow Hawk walked out of the shadows and knelt down at Jenny’s side. He had never been so close to a birth. It was both terrifying and beautiful or maybe it was the wokwave that made it seem beautiful but another son. Wokwave might have been right. He would never complain about a son, but a daughter that looked like her would have been welcome. He reached for the boy, but the boy had wrapped his fingers tightly around Bryan’s finger and cried as Sparrow Hawk took the boy. Sparrow Hawk grunted, “I name you Chibitty, last of my sons by Nahuu.”

  Onaabi stood back in the shadows. It had been a hard birth and Wokwave had saved she who was his wife and her baby for her husband. She nodded in acceptance. It was a good name. It meant ‘holding on good’. He would need to do just that if he grew up Comanche like Sparrow Hawk. He might need to do that to make sure he got feed her milk too. Her own son was still nursing and he would not like the intruder taking away his food. The boy had a name and it was time for her to take him. Onaabi walked out of the shadows and took the baby from Sparrow Hawk and left.

  Bryan stood up and faced Sparrow Hawk, “It would have been better to let him feed at least once. Better for both of them.”

  Sparrow Hawk looked at the blood, “Not better. She is full of wokwave. The child might live.”

  Bryan swallowed down his bile at how the man could be so full of compassion and want for her and then coldly watch her bleed as her body tried to shake off the effects of wokwave. Bryan said, “Brother, you have your son as promised and a little more than I promised. You will be moving North now?”

  Sparrow Hawk said, “Yes, you have honored your part Wokwave. Rest with her, then you are free to leave with your woman or bury her in your tradition if she doesn’t live. Tell your Chief, don’t want more camels. Horses and animals not like them much. I ride a horse. I took your ‘Aah Ha’ instead of more camels. May you be as fertile as he who is called Gage was. Besides, braves like to fight and not good to owe one side too much. Comanche not like peace. War makes braves strong and swift.”

  Bryan said, “Wasapi is white. Two white parents. Maybe Peekwi too. According to the treaty they should come with us.”

  Sparrow Hawk frowned, “White Chief already go back on scribbles? You lucky we share warmth Wokwave or I have to scalp you tonight. You keep camels. I keep my sons and Wokwave’s ‘Aah Ha’. You take boy from one called Gage if you need boy to call Wasapi and give him new name. If that not good enough, we fight.” Sparrow Hawk smiled like that was what he hoped would happen.

  It was occurring to Bryan that they had been duped. The man was itching for a good fight. If they had just said take her if you want her, would Jenny have walked out of that camp long ago? Maybe that was what Gage had been hinting at. Perhaps, but convincing officers who never met a Comanche that the best way to get what you want was to pretend you didn’t care was not that easy.

  Bryan swallowed, “I see. Well, maybe Peekwi and Wasapi should have a choice as well as Chibitty, Itsee and Paaka when they grow older. Raise them as Comanche but where they can walk in both worlds like you teach me to be Comanche today. It certainly opened my mind to things I had refused to see.”

  Sparrow Hawk agreed, “Maybe they come when older and see if your sons are brave as you Wokwave. Help you make war on her white father and take land back for your sons. Indian Agent will help them know more about your lies on scribbles. But if we not like new land or this Albert Pike, there is the Western skies to live under.”

  Bryan nodded, “Yes there are, for the now that may be. But for the now that is, go to Indian Territory and smoke tobacco with Albert Pike for your brother Wokwave.”

  Sparrow Hawk grinned, “What if I take her from you. Fair fight, no wokwave.”

  Bryan looked up, “Go ahead. She is dying. Too much blood on rock. You dig her pit and bury her.” There it was. He played his bluff and hoped like hell Sparrow Hawk didn’t call him on it or he would be burying her.

  Bryan didn’t stop what he was doing while he waited on Sparrow Hawk’s answer. He was pushing on her stomach as he talked trying to get her body to stem the blood loss and shed the after birth. Her muscles shivered and Jenny’s eyes rolled up like they were going into the top of her head any moment making her look even more like a ghost.

  Sparrow Hawk shivered in response to hers then said, “Why you work to save her if she is mine?”

  Bryan didn’t look up as he said, “If you decide it too much trouble to dig pit, then I must unless I save her life. Less work for me if she lives, yes?”

  Sparrow Hawk sighed, “Too smart to bate. I talk to this Stand Watie if he comes to my camp to parley. I not foolish enough to think there no price for going through Cherokee and Choctaw land. We must have our own territory. Tell young Chief at fort, we know how to find Indian Territory and will not need his help.” Sparrow Hawk considered the issue closed and turned and left.

  Bryan let out his breath after he left. Bryan and Jenny could have the camels and Sparrow Hawk would meet Stand Watie in Indian Territory. It would be up to Stand Watie to convince him to fight for the gray. Maybe his braves would fight for the Gray, or maybe he and his sons would go further west. The only thing Bryan really cared about right now was he had left without Jenny.

  As if her body had been holding onto his trump card until it knew it wasn’t needed, there was a gush and her body delivered up the after birth into Bryan’s lap.

  Bryan moved over to the side and lifted her head and gave Jenny some water. Bryan whispered, “They’re gone. It’s over. Don’t take this the wrong way, but since the baby can’t help, I’m going to suckle your breasts. It will help the bleeding to stop.” Bryan took each breast gently in his hand and latched on and drank her first milk. He wished he had a cup or bowl he could have put it in for the baby or for her to drink, but there wasn’t time to go back and find what he needed. There wasn’t a lot of milk at this point, but he knew her body would respond to this by making her body start the process of going back to normal. He suckled both breasts then covered her.

  Jenny tried to rise. Every muscle in her body was shaking and she was going to try to walk. Bryan wagged his finger in her face, “Not Indian now Jenny. I am your husband and your doctor and your doctor says I’m carrying you back woman.”

  As Bryan lifted her up into his arms, Jenny struggled to find the word she needed then said softly, “Yes.”

  Bryan cleaned her up once they were back in the teepee and placed cool wet rags on her forehead as she sweated out the wokwave from her system. Bryan wondered how much it took before one found they shared her same fate. Would he be doubled over in withdrawal soon as well? She went through phases of
sheer exhaustion and short periods of sleep, eyes wide awake looking for something that wasn’t there and times when he had to hold her down as she screamed in pain, heartbreak, and perhaps madness.

  At dawn there were sounds of the camp being torn down and packed up. Itsee and Paaka stuck their heads in the teepee and looked over to she who was their mother with her eyes closed and tears running down her checks. The shaking had stopped, but her emotions were everywhere and she was still very weak. Bryan was giving her water and some weak broth to try rebuild her strength.

  Bryan took the boys outside, “Don’t remember her like this. She is grieving for the loss of all her sons. She loves both of you very much.”

  Itsee nodded, “As do we love her father Bryan. Have we killed her?”

  Bryan smiled, “Not yet. Tell your father, I am still having to work hard to keep from having to dig a pit.” Bryan thought of how they addressed him, “So I’ve been put aside already?”

  Paaka grinned, “Yes, you are white again. No more wokwave for you.”

  Bryan smiled, “I was honored to be Comanche for a day, but she is white so I think I must be white too.”

  Itsee handed Bryan a gold coin, “For you to deal with father Bryan. We not want cursed gold. Maybe she not have to leave if we not find it.”

  Bryan looked at the coin. It was Spanish and quiet old, “Where did you find this?”

  Paaka said, “In bat dung cave. Metal covered bones holding coin. Many at his feet, but look like maybe more deep in hole. Should not have taken Ghost money. Father said only men should enter that place. He was right.”

  Bryan said, “Hole. Of course there would be a hole.” Bryan took the coin, “I will give it to our Chief at the fort. You are right. Not good to take Ghost money. Might break leg falling in hole then you join the metal covered bones.”

  Paaka asked, “Ranch not ours now that Uncle know about sons.”

  Bryan answered, “They would need to be recognized by your Uncle Gage first as his sons. Try to keep a foot in both worlds. It still might be yours someday. You will always be welcome in our home.”

  Paaka said, “Maybe one day we help make war with her new sons that we don’t know yet. We will remember her face. We just look at Wasapi and she will be with us. We will tell him to look in water to see her.”

  Bryan grinned, “Well, I’m sure any sons we have would be honored to have such brave warriors at their side.” He would not speak of the loss of the younger boys more to either Itsee or Paaka. It was painful enough for Jenny as it was and to say anything more would not help. Sparrow Hawk had told him that somewhere in that treaty Gage or Albert Pike had promised all the boys would stay with the Comanche.

  Itsee looked around and told Paaka something in Comanche grinning at Bryan. Then he turned and said good-bye to Bryan. Their new mother would be looking for them soon and if she found them talking to Bryan she would whip them. Bryan had the feeling that Itsee had taken one last stab at stirring up trouble so they had an excuse to fight right here. Maybe that coin had been around a long time and the boys thought it funny to tell him they found it in that bat cave or maybe they had. There would only be one way to find out and Bryan wasn’t looking forward to going back inside. Maybe he’d just give Gage that coin and tell him their story the next time he saw the man. Yes, let him find that hole.

  Before an hour had past there was little left of the camp. The Comanche had packed every up and left heading North toward Indian Territory. Bryan wondered if Gage might be following at a distance to make sure Sparrow Hawk kept his promise despite Sparrow Hawk’s assurances that he knew the way. Maybe Sparrow Hawk would found himself going a little further northwest until he felt safe enough to setup another camp in northwest Texas. No he would go to Indian Territory. The man was better than the Great White Chief at honoring his promises even if he was plotting how to bate you into a battle at the same time.

  Bryan looked around. There was a clay jar of dried fish, some jerky, and a water jar left by someone along with a knife and old musket, a few balls, and just enough powder to maybe shoot it once. There were clothes and moccasins some of the women had gifted for Jenny and Bryan. A leather haversack he could use to carry small game. There was enough hemp to rig a snare for rabbits and a hatchet. They had left him what they considered basics to hunt or protect himself while Jenny either died or recovered from the birth. The two camels were tied close to the teepee munching on the pads of a prickly pear.

  Bryan went back into the teepee and rummaged through the clothes left for Jenny. That caught her attention. Her eyes were open and she was wiping away the tears trying to see what Bryan was doing. Bryan asked, “Jenny, can you show me which of these dresses is for your funeral? Surely they left an appropriate dress to bury you in? I dug a pit. That’s what Comanche do, throw the dead person into the pit with their belonging and kill their favorite horse? I guess I might have to kill one of those camels. Would you show me which is your favorite?”

  Jenny’s eyes opened and she rose slowly and went over to find her funeral shroud. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. She pointed to what she had on.”

  Bryan shook his head, “No that won’t due. I guess you’ll just have to live Darling. I won’t be burying you in that.”

  Jenny smiled and went over to his clothes and picked out his army Captain’s jacket and put it over her shoulders and looked at him expectantly.

  Bryan shook his head, “Nope, your not taking my coat either. Maybe my long johns.”

  Jenny pinched her fingers over her nose and shook her head, “No.”

  Bryan said, “Well if you don’t want to be buried in my long johns then don’t die. How about we pack up and go home. Your son gave me something I need to give to your brother. Plus we need to tell Major Sanders there is no need to fight. My office is probably a mess and I need you to help straighten it up for me and then I want to find a little larger cabin. We might have to build it if no body died or transferred lately. Plus, I’d like to make sure Jake is alright too. He might not have any family you know. Little boy about the age of Wasapi all by himself. He might get a rash on his tush with Gage taking care of him.”

  Jenny started packing slowly. Bryan helped and made her drink more of the nasty broth he fixed and sit in between short tasks, but he needed her mind off what she was leaving. Being told to work was familiar and expected. It showed he thought she was better. It has worked for Lacy. The minute he started expecting her to get up instead of lay there dying, it had helped her recover hope. Before long between the two of them they had everything rolled up and ready to pack on the camels. Bryan checked their load and saddles and put Jenny up and mounted behind her and they were off for Camp Verde. They had traveled no more than an hour when Bryan spotted a dust cloud headed in their direction. He stopped and waited until he could make out a camel headed his way.

  Bryan slowed to a walk, “Would you look at that, There’s Daisy looking for you.” Sure enough, Daisy was bellowing as she led a charge toward Bryan and Jenny like a mother who found her long lost child.

  The Return of Jake

  Dallas had spent the night in his office. His head rested on his desk in a pile of crumpled paper that formed a pillow under his head. He had tried to write out a dispatch to be sent to Richmond about the sudden appearance of one Gage Travis, but couldn’t come up with a way to ask about his friend without the possibility of being asked to arrest him as a traitor and deserter if there were no records of his capture or escape.

  Mail arrived with the weekly stage coach. Maybe there would be news then and the mystery of Gage’s sudden appearance would be solved. Where ever he had been, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. Frankly he could use help managing the situation with Sparrow Hawk and Gage had more experience with Comanches that anyone he knew in the Rangers. At least anyone who was still alive or still in Texas. Bo Callahan could have helped, but this might not wait until he could return home.

  Dallas’ other alternative was
to contact Albert Pike and in the process casually ask about his friend in a way that didn’t necessarily say he was right here back from the dead. He owed Gage his life. The thought that he might have deserted seemed ridiculous. But General Hindman shooting Lacy for being a traitor last year was just as ridiculous and yet she had barely escaped with her life.

  War had a way of of making sane men do insane things in order to keep worse things from becoming real. Men were shot because their neighbors suspected they had Union leanings without benefit of trial just because they showed up back home without explanation of why they seemed to be healthy enough to fight and weren’t in uniform. The battle had swung back and forth wildly that day. Maybe it was his lack of self concern that had made them assume the body under his horse was Gage. Maybe if he had been in any condition to look at him before they buried it, he could have been a witness that they had the wrong man’s name on the grave.

  Being a PIU agent for the CSA, Gage sure wouldn’t have wanted to give General Curtis his real name. If they had known what the PIU men were looking for in Arkansas, Curtis would have made a point of going through Searcy and taken every home apart piece by piece. It wasn’t the first time he had just disappeared of the face of the earth for months at a time. There was that time when he and Bo took off with the camel corps without telling anyone where they were headed or when they’d be back. Gage wasn’t the sort that wrote home or bothered his friends with the details of his life. The more Dallas thought about it, the more convince he was that Gage had told him the truth. He had been in some hell hole up North until General John Morgan helped him escape.

  Dallas started to write again this time his letter was addressed to Commissioner Pike, Bureau of Indian Affairs, CSA.:

  I am happy to report we have the white woman Jenny Travis in our possession along with other remaining white hostages reported by the local Friar at the San Antonio Mission to our command. The young boys have been identified and returned to their families. I personally took Jenny to her father’s ranch after no person claimed her from advertisements and public displays of the hostages to the surrounding towns in the area. I felt sure it was Jenny Travers. Her face shows much the same features as her younger brother Gage Travis whom I knew well during our enlisted time both as a Texas Ranger and in the Texas Twelfth Cavalry prior to the battle of Cotton Plant. Despite the evidence supplied to Mr. Travis, he is in denial that Jenny could have survived her capture by Sparrow Hawk even though she has a scar across her throat that very much met the description Gage had related to me many times as we camped. The man is stubborn and left me no choice but to take her into the fort under our protection and care. To our surprise and delight one of our bachelors, Captain Travers who is our camp doctor has offered his hand in marriage and our Jenny has agreed to this with whole heart and soul. Captain Travers will assist in the delivery of the child in question and the return of one Jake Hardgrove as you stated. It is our hope that neither child shall be harmed and we can resolve the one remaining issue with Sparrow Hawk without more violence. Jenny has asked about her brother Gage. It has occurred to me that you might have known Gage and come upon other news that could be of comfort to her. As you know we think he may have died at Cotton Plant, but the body retrieved was near unidentifiable except that he was pinned under Gage’s horse with a bowie knife close at hand. I myself saw many horses mounted by other than their normal riders as one soldier was thrown or received a wound that would dismount him. Others took up their mounts and continued our charge. If you have any information that might confirm whether her brother might have been taken prisoner or seen with the likes of General John Morgan’s raiders in Kentucky who are well know to have freed several of our comrades, please let me know immediately so that I might bring Jenny some words of comfort. She will undoubtedly be most distressed on the loss of her new born even if it should save many lives on both sides. Major Dallas Sanders II, Camp Verde, Texas.