by Len Levinson
“But what is truth?” asked Tobey. “Is it knowable?”
“We are all mere particles of the dialogue that sometimes produces truth, but more often results in calamity. Unfortunately for Nathanial, he is an idealist in a world filled with desperate fiends. You see, your brother actually believes he can redeem the universe, but don't be angry at him, because where would we humble scribblers be without heroic jokers like Nathanial Barrington to inspire our pens? Come, my lad, let us perambulate to Pfaff ‘s, where you shall permit me to buy you a mug of fine lager, and we shall speak of the age of heroes, of glorious damsels and gleaming embattlements, not the usual garbage of the damned slavery debate. Why, I'd rather spend an hour alone with Nathanial Barrington, listening to him ramble on about Indians, than with the greatest politicians in the land.”
Following two months in New Mexico Territory, Special Agent George Bailey wrote a preliminary draft of his much-anticipated evaluation of the Apache wars. His information was based on extensive interviews with soldiers, settlers, cowboys, bull-whackers, and all who'd speak with him, but no one expected an official of the U.S. government to travel into dangerous mountains and actually speak with free-roving Apaches.
The testimony of all who have any knowledge of the Apaches concurs in pronouncing him the most rascally Indian on the continent. Treacherous, bloodthirsty, brutal, with an irresistible propensity to steal, he has been for years the scourge of Mexico.
The amount of property stolen by these Indians over the years is incalculable. According to the returns of United States marshals, there were taken in New Mexico Territory alone, between 1st August and 1st October 1857, 12,887 mules, 7,050 horses, 31,581 horned cattle and 453,293 head of sheep.
Grave doubts are expressed whether any process short of extermination will suffice to quiet the Apaches.
During the season known among the People as Thick With Fruit, they traveled to the higher elevations of the Chiricahua Mountains to harvest chokecherries. Warriors patrolled the area, to warn of snakes, bears, and other predators, such as the bluecoat Army, while squaws advanced among heavily laden bushes, dropping handfuls of plump red cherries into baskets.
One of these women was Jocita of the Nednai clan, first wife of Chief Juh, herself a foremost fighter. Despite her widely acknowledged prowess in battle, she especially enjoyed being with her sisters, performing their time-honored task of picking chokecherries, and speaking of children, men, and the future of the People. She believed women had a special understanding that men did not know: The earth would abide.
It was sunny, peaceful, and cool, reminding her of when she'd been a girl, romping in the wilderness with her friends. Yet even then there had been danger, which had increased throughout her life, but she tried to be hopeful and see the happy side. It will be many harvests before the White Eyes find this remote place, she consoled herself as she placed a choke-cherry into her mouth. At least we can live according to the Lifeway a while longer, and when the ultimate struggle comes, we shall be thankful for this happy time.
She gazed at children wrestling playfully in a clearing not far away, her son, Fast Rider, among them. He was becoming taller, his hair turning darker, and he was as wily a fighter as any of them. One day he will ride with the warriors, she told herself, and smiled a secret smile as she returned to the cherry patch.
She remembered the boy's father, the bluecoat war chief called Sunny Bear, and imagined that occasionally Sunny Bear thought of her as well. Something powerful and strange had passed between them one night long ago, burning a brand on their quivering souls. The Mountain Spirits gave us one special time of pure pleasure, she realized. Perhaps we were not strong enough to endure such ecstasy, or maybe the Mountain Spirits did not want us to spoil their perfection.
Yet I know that Sunny Bear shall return one day, she thought, because no matter how many women he marries, and how many children he sires with them, he will never forget me. And I will not forget him either, in this world or the next. For such a love can never die.
