by Verna Clay
A few minutes later, Warrior closed his eyes and sighed. Gently, Tana inspected his leg and discovered it was broken. With precision and skill she splinted his leg and then placed him in a flatbed wheel barrel to transport to an empty stall in the barn. After she'd made him as comfortable as possible and set a bowl of water within reach, she collected eggs, milked her goat, led her mule to the creek to eat and drink, and began daily rounds of the injured and sick animals that had come to her. At the completion of her chores she perched on a stool in the center of the barn and sang Irish songs to her beloved guests.
6: Reaching the Trail
With his pack mule named Petunia loaded with supplies and Stanton saddled, Thomas lifted Amy onto his horse. His housekeeper Polly showed her concern for their departure by twisting her hands in her apron. At best, the trip would take three or four weeks to reach the red rocks. Standing beside Polly, Josiah swiped his eyes. Thomas had never seen the child cry, not even when he'd been abused by the cowpokes, and it deeply touched his heart. Kneeling in front of the lad, he pulled him into a hug. "We'll return soon, Josiah. You're the man of the house while I'm gone, so take good care of Mrs. Nettles and the animals."
Josiah croaked, "Yes, sir. I will." He lifted his gaze to Amy on Stanton and said, "Bye, Amy."
"Bye, Josiah. I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too," he choked.
Thomas patted Josiah's shoulder in a gesture of comfort, then stood and turned to Polly, embracing her. The poor woman released a sob and Thomas said, "Now, now, Polly, I hope to be back before the summer heat sets in."
The kindly woman returned his hug and then turned to compose herself. Thomas glanced between his housekeeper and stable boy and knew they had become so much more than hired help; they were family.
Although Amy had already said her goodbyes, tears glinted in her eyes. Thomas understood how she felt. They were leaving everyone and everything dear to them. With resolve, he grabbed the reins of Stanton and started forward. Petunia, tied to his horse, showed no resistance as she followed behind. They were headed for the Yavapai Trail, a track traversed by the native population for perhaps hundreds of years.
Although Stanton was large and strong and could carry Thomas' weight, Thomas would walk most of the journey to lighten his horse's load. He and Amy would begin their trek by following the road in front of their home away from the direction of town, and by nightfall they would reach an unnamed trail blazed by scouting parties over the past twenty-five years. That trail would eventually catch up with the ancient Yavapai route northwest of Globe and lead them through the Superstition Mountains.
When Thomas had moved his family from Fort Apache to Globe they had followed a goodly portion of the Yavapai Trail through the White Mountains that, at times, was steep and treacherous as it traversed the Salt River Canyon. However, steely determination to live a stable life among civilians had strengthened their resolve. In the end, the journey had been worth the hardship, and although Ruth only lived a short time to enjoy the fruit of their hopes and dreams, Thomas was grateful for that time.
To quell his misgivings about his current journey, he said to Amy, "Why don't you sing? It'll make the time pass faster. And I love hearing your voice."
"What song should I sing?"
"How about Shenandoah?"
In a beautiful voice that Amy had inherited from her mother, his daughter sang into the crisp, cool air. Occasionally, Thomas joined her, harmonizing with his baritone voice, but mostly, he just listened.
Shortly after midday they reached a junction with a weathered post and cross post nailed to it. Etched into the cross post was an arrow and the faded words, "25 miles to Yavapai Trail." Turning west onto the path that would lead them to where they wanted to go, they immediately encountered ruts and potholes. Their journey had begun in earnest.
At dusk they set up camp. After caring for the animals, Thomas started a fire from the mesquite wood he had gathered throughout the day and set his tripod over it. Soon he had a pot of Polly's beans warming over the fire. Next, he brewed strong coffee. Finally, he erected his tent and laid out bedrolls. Amy helped, but when she stumbled, he caught her before she landed on a rock. After that, he insisted she sit beside the fire until supper was ready.
"I'm sorry for being so clumsy, Papa."
Her innocent words twisted his heart. "Honey, you've spent a long day on a horse and it's not unusual to be a little wobbly on your feet." He wanted to believe his own words, but he knew they were a lie. She was wasting away from the same disease that had killed her mother.
After supper they remained by the fire eating slices of apple pie sweetened with agave nectar that Polly had packed for them. Amy said, "Do you think Mama is watching us from heaven?"
"I know she is."
"Papa, why do mamas sometimes die and leave their children? My friend Phoebe's mama also died and she had seven children."
"I don't think I have an answer for that, Amy. There are lots of things that happen in this world that no one understands."
"Like how some people are bad and some are good?"
"Yes."
"Do you think we'll meet bad people before we get to the healing woman?"
"I certainly hope not."
"Do you think the Indians are bad people, Papa?"
"Maybe some are, just like some white folk, but most people are fair-minded and just. Even some of the bad ones I think are basically good. The problem is they've been forced into situations that caused them to make wrong choices."
"So you think a bad person could maybe become a good person again?"
"I do." Thomas heard Amy yawn and patted her head. "I also think you're a tired little girl who needs to go to bed."
Tucking his daughter in, he said, "Goodnight, baby girl."
"Night, Papa."
Thomas watched his daughter drift to sleep and then lifted his eyes heavenward, breathing a prayer for their safety and Amy's healing.
7: Salt River Scare
It took two days to reach the Yavapai Trail and travel over the next week proved to be quite strenuous as Thomas led his horse and mule through a ravine cut by the Salt River. The trek was often alongside steep cliffs falling hundreds of feet to the river and jagged rocks below. More than once, he again questioned his sanity, but then Amy would display yet another symptom of her disease and his resolve would strengthen. He had promised his daughter she would live a long, productive life, and he found solace in believing the chance meeting with the outlaws had somehow been serendipitous. He'd never been a religious man, but right now he needed something to hang on to, and the healing woman was his lifeline.
During that first week on the trail they only crossed paths twice with others. Their first encounter was with a weathered miner leading a mule loaded with pick axes, shovels, pans, and other necessities for such a grueling life. The white bearded curmudgeon acknowledged Thomas' greeting with only a grunt as they passed on the narrow trail.
Three days later an Indian family traveling in the same direction as Thomas and Amy, caught up with them, and by the father's friendly smile, Thomas had no fear for himself or his daughter. He had often acted as physician to Indians and their children, and they had always treated him well.
Thomas guided his horse and mule close to the cliff face so the family with two children could pass by. He didn't know if they spoke English but he said in a friendly tone, "Hello. My name is Thomas Matthews and this is my daughter, Amy."
Amy said, "Hello," and gave a little wave to a girl about her own age. The Indian child ducked her head behind her mother.
The father said in broken English, "I Running Elk." He pointed to the woman beside him. "Little Deer." Then he pointed to the boy. "Big Bear." The girl peeked from behind her mother and he said, "Flower in Wind."
The boy named Big Bear, who was indeed very large at the age of maybe eleven or twelve, nodded respectfully. The girl shyly smiled.
Thomas said, "I'm pleased to meet you. Where are you
traveling?"
"We go to other side of mountain. You?"
"We're headed toward the red rocks."
Running Elk appeared to know exactly where Thomas meant because he said, "Very pretty. I see red rocks as boy. I never forget." He frowned. "But Great White Chief now take Indian land."
Thomas had no response to the truth of Running Elk's words. Over the years many whites and Indians had lost there lives in a ceaseless tug-of-war for the land. Although tensions were always high and unrest could erupt at any time, the wars had quieted due to General Crook and his Indian scouts.
Running Elk said something in his own language to his wife and she nodded in reply. His expression became serious and he pointed toward Thomas' black medical bag hanging from Petunia. "You are doctor?"
"Yes."
"You have white man's medicine with you?"
Cautiously, Thomas replied, "Very little medicine."
Running Elk's expression turned to disappointment as he motioned Big Bear forward. Obediently, the child stepped beside his father. Again, Running Elk spoke in the Apache language, this time to his son. The boy nodded and lifted his buckskin breeches above his calf to reveal a large, infected gash.
Thomas asked, "May I look at the wound?"
Running Elk waved him forward.
"How did this happen?" asked Thomas.
"Boy fall on stick," replied Running Elk.
Thomas glanced up from kneeling beside Big Bear. "I have medicine for this. I'll give you some. It should make the wound better."
Running Elk gave a relieved smile. "Yes, we need medicine."
Thomas walked to his mule and opened his leather bag. He removed a bottle of tincture of iodine and some bandages before reaching for a canteen of water and returning to Big Bear. Thomas said to the child, "Please sit there," and motioned toward a rock jutting from the cliff wall.
Running Elk instructed his boy in their language and Thomas set about cleaning and bandaging the wound. Although the ministrations must have hurt, especially when the gash was coated with the iodine, the child only flinched. Finally, the injury was bandaged and Thomas explained to Running Elk as simply as he could how to care for the wound and gave him one of his two bottles of the tincture.
Running Elk said, "Thank you. You good white man."
Little Deer, with an expression of relief for her child's care, smiled her gratefulness.
Flower in Wind ducked behind her mother again and smiled at Amy.
Big Bear nodded a thank you to Thomas.
Running Elk then motioned his family onward. Soon they rounded a bend in the trail and Thomas lost sight of them.
Throughout the remainder of the day the heat climbed steadily and Thomas was thankful they were traveling during spring. If it had been the height of summer or winter, the journey would have been impossible. Again, the opportune timing was not lost on him.
As their trail neared the bottom of a ravine increased vegetation made traveling much more pleasant. Toward evening they reached the Salt River and Thomas decided to set up camp earlier than usual. He wanted to take advantage of the nearby water. As the sun blazed a path to the horizon, he and Amy, in their undergarments, sat on the riverbank laughing and splashing water on their dusty faces. Thomas reached for the bar of soap he'd placed on a rock but paused when he heard rustling behind him.
He turned and froze.
8: Dreaming
Tana yawned and couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so sleepy. Her day had become strenuous when a bull elk showed up with an infected hoof. Cleaning and trimming the hoof had proven to be quite difficult.
Sitting in Frannie's rocker on her porch, she yawned again and leaned her head against the headrest. Within moments she drifted into a dream state. Surrounded by fog, she watched it slowly dissipate until she realized she was standing in the midst of juniper trees. Through the trees she caught a glimmer of water and started toward it. She was halted by the roar of an angry bear. Focusing her attention to her left she saw the animal standing on her hind legs, pawing the air, and preparing to attack. Tana's heartbeat quickened when she realized the bear's anger was directed toward two shapes still shrouded in mist. One was obviously a child. Returning her attention to the bear, she suddenly understood her rage. Her two cubs had been captured by trappers and now she hated all humans.
Out of the mist she heard her grandmother's voice. You must save them, Tana.
Tana replied in shock, "Frannie, you've never spoken anything to me other than the coming of a man. Is that him? Is that his child? Why can't I see them clearly?"
Frannie spoke again, Save them, Tana.
Tana returned her attention to the bear and spoke aloud, "Please don't harm them. These people are innocent."
The bear paused in her charge and turned to face Tana. For long moments they stared at each other before the grieving animal turned and lumbered away. Tana spun around hoping to see the man and child clearly, but as intangible as the fog, they faded into nothingness. "Frannie, are you still there?"
He's coming and he's not alone. He will make you cry.
Tana jerked awake and bolted upright. The dream was unsettling because Frannie had added another dimension to the mysterious stranger. Was he the one in the fog, the one who was coming? And was he bringing a child? She reached for the shawl draped over the back of her chair and wrapped herself against a sudden chill.
Thomas had his rifle raised and his finger poised over the trigger when the bear started toward them. He was just about to fire when the animal suddenly stilled and sat on her haunches. She turned her head as if seeing or hearing something in the trees. After heart pounding moments she simply turned and retreated. He felt weak with relief. He knew gunshots rarely stopped an angry bear. Whatever the reason for the animal's departure, he whispered a prayer of thanksgiving. However, he kept his rifle trained toward the trees. He chanced a quick glance at Amy. With eyes widened in wonder, she said, "Why did the bear just run away, Papa?"
"I'm not sure, but I'll keep watch while you finish washing up."
Long after Amy had gone to sleep in their tent, Thomas sat beside the campfire with his rifle next to him. As a doctor, on more than one occasion, he had treated the victims of bear attacks. He shuddered at the remembrances.
Again he replayed the scene in his mind. The bear had been angry and roaring and intent in her purpose as she started toward them, but then she suddenly became docile. Moments later she disappeared into the trees. The event had been very strange.
Sighing, Thomas bowed his head and again offered a prayer of thankfulness for whatever had distracted the animal and saved their lives. Still, he spent the rest of the night keeping the fire lit and his rifle nearby.
9: Encampment
Thomas hoisted himself behind Amy and onto the back of Stanton. His sleepless night was catching up with him. Although it was late afternoon, he didn't want to break for camp just yet. By his calculation, only ten miles remained until they were out of the Superstition Mountains and then maybe twenty to the cut off leading to the Verde River.
Amy wasn't tired and kept up a running conversation about the flora and fauna surrounding them. "Papa, look how tall that cactus is." A minute later. "Oh, Papa, there's a herd of donkeys. See how cute the babies are."
Drowsily, Thomas shifted his gaze and absently said, "They sure are." He let his lids droop. Half asleep, he watched the passing terrain and listened to Amy's chatter.
"Look, Papa, at the Indians coming toward us."
Instantly, Thomas shifted upright and looked in the direction his daughter pointed.
She said, "Maybe they know that nice family we met earlier?"
Thomas certainly hoped so. After having lived at Fort Apache and treating the wounded after skirmishes, he knew how cruel both sides could be. General Crook's strategy of enlisting the aid of Indian scouts for tracking renegade Indians had generated much hatred against white man and the scouts. However, for all their tracking expertise, Chief Geron
imo still roamed free.
Thomas' heart quickened as the dust cloud kicked up by the horses came closer. These were Apache braves.
"Papa, we should ask if they know Running Elk."
"Amy, honey, I don't want you to say anything. Let me do all the talking."
"Yes, sir." She must have felt his tension because her little body suddenly stiffened.
Thomas halted Stanton, which stayed Petunia, and waited for the arrival of the braves. The closer they came, the more dread entered his heart. They were young and the young ones always wanted to fight. He wrapped his arms around Amy and pulled her against him.
Three braves halted their horses in front of Stanton. The closest one smirked and said something in his native language while the others began circling Thomas' horse and mule. One of them paused beside Stanton and pulled Thomas' rifle from its scabbard.
Thomas said, "We mean you no harm. We're just passing through."
The Indian who had first spoken said bitterly in English, "You are white man on land stolen from us. You have other gun?"
Thomas knew that if he lied and said no and his pistol was found, things would not go well for him and Amy. He nodded and pointed. "Inside that pouch."
The brave who had relieved him of his rifle, now confiscated his pistol.
Thomas said to the leader, "We're not staying on your land, we're merely passing through. My daughter is ill and I'm taking her to a healing woman."
