by Tim Tingle
Danny’s father had talked of raiders who burned homes and took children to sell as slaves. But they stayed away from Navajo communities, like Danny’s home at Canyon de Chelly.
“We look out for each other,” his father had said. “The slave traders look for travelers or people living away from others. They’re easier to capture.”
“Sarah and her family don’t know how much their lives are in danger. Every day,” Danny whispered.
He saw the dust rising on the road long before he saw his friend. In less than an hour Rick appeared, driving his wagon on the road below. Danny climbed on Fire Eye’s back and tugged the reins.
“Easy, Fire Eye,” he said, as he led his horse down the hill and onto the road.
“Whoa!” Rick shouted, pulling his mules to a halt. “Danny Blackgoat, I never thought I’d see the day.” Rick leaped from his wagon, and Danny stepped down from Fire Eye to meet him.
“What’s it like,” Rick asked, “spending the day in a coffin?”
“I don’t want to do it again,” said Danny.
“Tell me what happened,” Rick said.
“Do you really want to hear this?” Danny asked.
“Yes, I do,” said Rick. “Jim Davis couldn’t tell me much. He was being very careful.”
For the next half hour Danny told Rick about his last days at Fort Davis, a Texas prison fort.
“As you know,” Danny began, “Jim Davis came up with a plan to help me escape. He was the carpenter, so he built the coffins when somebody died. The bodies were buried outside the gates of the fort. The plan was for him to build the coffin deeper than usual. I would sneak out of the barracks and climb inside the coffin. The next day, during the funeral, I’d be buried with the body. Then Davis would find a horse for me and dig me up the next morning. I’d be free!”
Rick nodded, his eyes growing wide as he listened to the story.
“Everything went like we planned,” Danny said. “But I didn’t look at the other body in the coffin when I crawled in. I was too scared. That morning, the soldiers dragged the coffin to the graveyard, outside of the fort, and buried us both—me and the dead person. It was the longest day of my life. I thought of my family. I thought of my friends. I knew if I died they would never find my body. Did Jim Davis tell you what he did?”
“He only said they would bury you and that you would escape from the graveyard. That’s all he told me,” Rick said.
“Well, they did bury me. But before they did, Jim Davis laid his leather vest on the body, so I wouldn’t be afraid. But I had my eyes closed when I climbed into the coffin. When I felt the vest, I thought Jim Davis was dead and that he was buried with me. I thought I’d never get out of the coffin alive!”
Rick laughed and laughed. “I’m sorry, Danny,” he said. “But now that you’re alive, it does make for a good story!”
Danny smiled. “Yes, I’m alive,” he said. “And he brought me Fire Eye, the best horse in the world.”
Rick gripped him by the shoulders. “Danny, I was so afraid for you. We all were. My wife and daughter Jane send their best wishes.”
“Tell them I will miss them,” Danny said. “I will see them again. I don’t know when, but I will.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Rick said. “Jim Davis wanted me to give you this. He said it might save your life.”
Rick lifted a leather pouch from his wagon and handed Danny a knife. The blade was five inches long with a sharp point.
“It’s called a bowie knife,” Rick said. “No one knew he had it.”
Danny’s eyes grew big. He had never seen a knife like this before.
“A gift for me?”
“Yes,” Rick said. “And Davis said to remind you that he wants a letter someday. When you learn to write.”
“Tell him I will learn to write. For him.”
“I will,” Rick said. “Now, we should be going. I think it’s safer if you ride with me. I carry prisoners all the time. No one will think it’s unusual.”
“What about Fire Eye?” Danny asked.
“We can tie him to the wagon. He’ll be fine.”
For the remainder of the day, Danny rode beside Rick. As the sky darkened, they neared a watering hole.
“You should climb in the back,” Rick said. “Everybody waters their animals here. No reason to take any chances.”
Danny climbed into the back of the wagon and settled on the wooden floor.
Rick always watered his mules by daylight, but had waited for Danny to get a good head start from Fort Davis. Now he pulled into the watering hole several hours later than usual.
A band of slave traders heard the wagon approaching. They didn’t speak a word. They silently hid in the shadows and watched. When they saw a white man watering his mules, they relaxed.
As slave traders, they sold people, but this white man was too old for anyone to want him. They could steal his horse. There were six of them. It would be easy. They could take his mules and leave him on foot.
“Danny,” Rick shouted. “Are you awake?”
Who is he talking to? the slave traders thought. They froze and waited. Suddenly, a new voice caught their attention.
“Is it safe?” Danny asked.
“If anybody’s here, I don’t see ’em,” Rick replied.
Danny climbed from the rear of the wagon.
When the slave traders saw Danny, they knew what to do. Young men sold well in the slave market. Moving quietly, they climbed on their horses. They were not afraid of Danny. The man would be armed, but not the Navajo boy.
The six men soon surrounded Rick’s wagon. While Danny and Rick knelt down by the water, one man rode behind the wagon. He untied the horse. Fire Eye snorted and stomped the ground.
“Sounds like he’s ready to drink,” Rick said.
He never said another word. A stranger stepped from behind a tree and struck him in the head with a stone club. Rick fell to the ground and lay without moving. Blood flowed from a cut above his broken nose.
Chapter 4
A Bargain with Death
Two men knelt below the bed of the wagon. When Danny stepped to the ground, they grabbed him from behind. One man put a sack over his head and tied it tightly around his neck. The other tied his hands behind his back.
Unable to see, Danny kicked out at his captors. He heard their laughter.
“Who are you kicking, boy?” one man asked. He picked up a handful of dirt and tossed it at Danny.
Danny shook his head in anger. A man took him by the shoulders and spun him around and around. Danny grew more and more dizzy, until he finally fell to the ground.
“Let him lay there,” a man said. “We need to finish off the old man.”
They mean Rick, Danny thought. They are going to kill him!
“Manny, you want me to shoot him?” one man asked.
“No, Marcos,” Manny replied. “A gun makes too much noise. Finish him with the club. Then toss his body over the hill. After the buzzards are done with him, nobody will know what happened.”
Danny feared for his friend’s life. I have to stop them, he thought. Rick was only here to help me. I can’t let them kill him.
“Wait!” Danny shouted.
“You better shut up!” said Manny. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Just listen to me,” Danny said. “I can lead you to a ranch. Many workers live there. Not far from here.”
“Why would you do that?” Manny asked.
“I want you to let the old man live,” Danny said. “He didn’t see any of you. Just leave him here.”
“Even if we let him live,” said Manny, “you’re coming with us.”
“I will,” said Danny. “I won’t be any trouble. I will take you to the ranch.”
So far, the men had spoken English. Danny could understand everything they said. But now they spoke another language, one he didn’t understand.
“Que piensas, Manny?” asked Marcos. “What do you think?”
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��Si habla la verdad, es bueno. Mas jovenes, mas dinero,” Manny said. “If he speaks the truth, it’s good. More young men, more money.”
Danny guessed what they were saying.
“I am telling the truth,” he said. “Many good workers and few guns. They won’t have any guards at night.”
“You’re a smart young man,” said Manny. “Smart enough to know what happens if you are lying.”
“I am not lying,” Danny said. “Let’s go now. We can get there while it’s still dark. They’ll be asleep.”
“Take the sack from his head,” Manny said. “But keep his hands tied.”
Danny kept his eyes to the ground. When the sack was removed, he took a deep breath. He could at least see the slave traders.
The six men surrounding him were a mixed band of Mexican and white people. But no Navajos, Danny thought.
The one thing they all had in common was a meanness in their eyes. They would do whatever Manny says. They would kill Rick—or me—as easily as they would slap a fly, he thought.
“You ride with me,” Manny said. “On the saddle behind me. Take us to this ranch.” Two men lifted Danny onto Manny’s horse.
“What about the old man?” asked Marcos.
“Tie him up and leave him,” Manny said. “If this boy is lying, we’ll be back.” He turned to Danny, saying, “Which way to this ranch?
“Down the hill and east,” Danny said, pointing.
“Put your hands on my shoulder,” Manny said. “And don’t move them unless you ask my permission. You understand me?”
“Yes,” Danny said, lifting his bound wrists to Manny’s right shoulder.
Now, Danny thought, I wait and I watch. The time will come when they will let their guard down. I must be ready.
Danny still had his bowie knife, his gift from Jim Davis. It was tied to his ankle, under his pants leg. And he had the beginning of a plan.
“How far to the ranch?” Manny asked.
“A three-hour ride,” Danny said. “There is a watering hole there, too.”
“How come we don’t know about this watering hole?” asked Manny. “I’m warning you, boy. If you want to live, don’t lie to me.”
“I am not lying to you,” said Danny.
The slave traders eased their horses down the hill. Moving from the trees to the road, they entered the light of a full moon.
We will arrive at the ranch before sunrise, Danny thought. I hope I am still alive to say the morning prayer and greet the dawn. He wanted to touch the leather pouch hanging around his neck, filled with corn pollen. It was a gift from Rick’s wife, he remembered. I hope Rick is safe.
While his mules slept nearby, Rick lay in a pool of his own blood. His hands were tied, and he was barely breathing.
Chapter 5
Fire Eye’s Bloody Saddle
As the moon crept over the sky, the slave traders rode east, in the direction of the Grady ranch. They rode in the middle of the road, in full view.
They are not afraid of anybody, Danny thought. That’s good. They will never suspect what they are riding into.
The hours dragged on and the men grew sleepy. Pretending to fall asleep, Danny let his hands slip from Manny’s shoulder.
“Hey, boy!” Manny shouted.
“I’m sorry,” Danny said, shaking his head back and forth. “I fell asleep.”
Half an hour later, he let his hands slide down again. He leaned his head against Manny’s back. Danny waited for Manny to holler at him again, but he didn’t.
He thinks I have fallen asleep, Danny thought. Very slowly, he slid his hand to his ankle. He lifted his knife and tucked it into his belt. His knife was still unseen, but would be easy to grab when he needed it.
Several times he jerked himself, as if he were waking up suddenly.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sputtering his words. “I’m sorry. Was I sleeping?”
“Try to stay awake,” Manny said. “How far to the ranch?”
Danny lifted himself on the saddle and looked down the road. “Not far now,” he said. “Maybe an hour.”
Manny rode for another hour. Then he pulled his horse to a stop.
“Arrete,” he shouted. “Stop!”
The men surrounded him, waiting for orders.
“Boy,” he said, turning to Danny. “Start talking. Tell us about the ranch.”
“When we come to the trees,” Danny said, “ride over the hill. The watering hole is on the other side. There is a clump of trees around the spring. The ranch house is half a mile away, hidden by the trees. No one will see us. You can attack the ranch house from the trees.”
“Good,” said Manny. “And I do not need to warn you what will happen if you are lying to us.”
“I understand,” said Danny.
“Escuche,” Manny said. “Listen! We will have a new leader today. Bring the boy’s horse. He will lead us down the hill. If he’s lying, they will shoot him first.”
He turned to Danny. “If you try to get away, we’ll have our guns at your back. You’ll never make it. Both you and your friend will die.”
Danny said nothing. He kept his eyes to the ground to hide his excitement. His plan was still brewing. But he knew he had a chance with Fire Eye.
I have my knife and my horse, he thought. Both gifts from Jim Davis.
“Lead us to the watering hole,” Manny said. “Boy, you say we can see the ranch house from the trees?”
“Yes,” Danny replied.
“Good,” Manny said. “Men, we’ll stay together in the trees and plan our attack. Be careful and quiet. Keep your guns ready. If you have to shoot, do not shoot to kill. Remember, the men and women at the ranch will be our slaves. We want them to bring a good price.”
Danny’s eyes grew big. The men and women would be slaves? he thought. I never knew they were capturing women, too! Sarah. And her mother. I have brought danger to the Gradys. What am I doing?
“What’s keeping you, boy?” Manny said. “Get on your horse and take us there.”
Danny climbed down from Manny’s horse and mounted Fire Eye.
I know what I am doing, he thought. I am trying to save the life of my friend, Rick. I hope I’m not bringing death on us all.
The moon slipped behind the clouds, casting dark shadows on the hillside. Danny led Fire Eye up the slope, patting him on the neck.
“Good boy, Fire Eye,” he whispered. “Danny is here. Go slow and easy.”
Fire Eye shook his head and blew a soft breath of air.
He knows to be quiet, thought Danny. Fire Eye is smart.
As they topped the hill, the clouds parted. Moonlight shone on the spring water below. Danny reached for his knife. He knew the time was near. He had to make his move.
Instead, Fire Eye made it for him. He stepped on a thin sheet of rock. It crushed beneath his weight, and Fire Eye stumbled. Only for a brief moment, but it was enough. Danny rolled forward in the saddle. He gripped his knife to keep from dropping it, and the blade cut deep into his palm.
Blood gushed from Danny’s hand, covering Fire Eye and the saddle.
If Fire Eye’s bloody saddle doesn’t warn them, nothing will! thought Danny.
He tumbled from the saddle to the ground. As he fell, he gently stuck the point of his knife in Fire Eye’s hindquarters.
“Go, boy! Run!” he said in a loud whisper. “Find Sarah!”
Fire Eye sprang to life. He lifted his front legs from the ground and let fly with the loudest cry Danny had ever heard from a horse!
“Wheeeeeee!”
When his front legs struck the ground, Fire Eye took off running.
“Follow him!” shouted Manny. “He’ll wake them up.”
The men at the Grady ranch were already awake. They had spotted the slave traders as they topped the hill. Seeing Fire Eye running in their direction, they aimed their guns and waited.
The slave traders followed Fire Eye, riding at a slow and careful pace. Their guns were strapped to their saddles. T
hey had expected an easy ride to the watering hole before they began their attack. As the slave traders rode down the hill, they were met with the guns of ten men and one strong young lady.
Danny had heard the blast of the shotgun that killed his favorite sheep, Crowfoot, and Crowfoot’s blood had covered him. But Danny had never heard the sound of a dozen shotguns firing at the same time, again and again.
He crawled to the edge of the hill. Gunfire rocked the valley. With every shot, a puff of smoke rose from the dark trees.
“Look at them,” Danny said to himself. “They must have known the slave traders were nearby. Mr. Grady and all of his men are here!”
Manny’s men tried to halt their horses, but they had nowhere to go. The horses panicked. Rocks exploded around them. When the first horse was hit, he flopped on his side and slid down the hill, dragging his rider with him.
Chapter 6
Bodies on the Hillside
“Fire Eye,” Sarah shouted, tossing her shotgun aside. “Here, boy!”
Fire Eye knew Sarah’s voice. Even surrounded by the noise of the shotguns, he knew that voice. He crossed the spring and entered the dark woods.
“Over here!” Sarah shouted. As Fire Eye rubbed against her, Sarah felt the wetness of Danny’s blood before she saw it. “Fire Eye, you splashed yourself,” she said, covering her ears from the gunfire.
“Here, let me dry you off.” Sarah lifted her sleeve and wiped his saddle. A soft breeze blew the tree branches, just enough to let the moon squeeze through. In the yellow light, Sarah saw the blood.
“No!” she cried out. “Where is Danny? What did they do to him?”
“Sarah,” her father shouted. “We need you! Get your shotgun.”
Sarah turned from Fire Eye. She lifted her gun and took careful aim. The fallen horse had stopped his slide. His rider, bruised and battered, tried to stand.
“This is for Danny Blackgoat,” Sarah whispered. She pulled the trigger. The blast knocked her to the ground. When she stood up, she saw the rider. He fell on his back and grabbed his leg.
She had hit him just above the knee.
