by M L Dunn
“You mean Jonas?”
“That’s right, Corporal Jonas Jackson.”
“I guess we were on a first name basis,” Rachel explained. “He’s still out there, with the child’s father, trying to get the man’s child back.”
“They weren’t able to trade for the child?”
“No,” said Rachel, “the Comanche weren’t interested.”
“I can’t understand that,” the colonel claimed. “How did you happen to be set free?”
“I was traded by the Comanche to some Mexican traders,” she explained. “Then the sheriff and Mr. O’Hara took me away from them.”
“I see. Maybe we should get a full report from you - tomorrow though. It can wait. Is there anything I can do for you, anything you need right now?”
“Some clothing if you have it.”
“I can do quite well in that regard. I’ll have some things brought over,” the colonel said walking away.
Not much later, Rachel rose again to answer a knock at the door again. This time she was met by a pretty, petite woman. The woman had three dresses slung over her arm. Rachel stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.
“I’m Katherine Campbell, the colonel’s wife,” the woman explained.
It had been a long time since a woman of such standing had introduced herself to Rachel.
“Rachel,” she introduced herself.
“You are much taller than I,” Katherine said holding a dress up towards her, “but I believe I have something here that will fit you. Why don’t we go over to my home?”
“If you don’t mind I rather stay here.”
“I understand. Why don’t you take these items in and try them on?”
Rachel accepted the clothing graciously, went back in the room and undressed. She tried the dresses on, slipping them on one after another over her head. There was only dim light coming in through the window now, but she stood outside it mostly feeling how the dresses fit and choosing one based on that. She stepped back into the hallway where the colonel’s wife was waiting.
“Oh, that looks wonderful,” Katherine said, causing Rachel to smile for the first time in some while.
“I could use some needle and thread if you have any,” Rachel said.
“Of course. I’ll be back in a moment.”
The colonel’s wife walked to the end of hallway and left. Rachel stood in the hallway, the light falling on her new dress. It was a red taffeta dress she could see now, with a lace collar. It was a size too small so she had not buttoned all the buttons in back. She went back in the room, sat and looked out the window.
A few minutes later she spotted the colonel’s wife crossing the quadrant carrying a lantern that swung back and forth like a signal light. Rachel met her in the hallway.
“I brought you some things you might need,” Katherine said handing her a small wicker box. “If you like come by tomorrow and we can sit awhile. I got a letter only today from the mother of the captive child and I would like to write her back.” “Maybe you could tell me what you know, but it can wait till tomorrow.”
Rachel nodded. The colonel’s wife left and Rachel stepped back into the small room and shut the door behind her. She opened the room’s window and sat in the chair looking inside the wicker box. Stuffed inside were a brush, ribbons, handkerchiefs, make-up, a small mirror and other items. She spent some time brushing out her tangled hair and tied it with a silk ribbon. She looked over at the well-lit house of the colonel’s and did not fool herself that it would take only new clothes and nice things to make her feel whole again. She put the items away and lay next to July on the narrow bed, listening to his breathing. The breeze through the window slowly cleared the stale air from the room and she lay watching candles burn in the upstairs of the colonel’s house. She stared at them while trying to picture her father and mother.
The flickering lights must have put her some into trance for she recalled a time with them she had thought she’d lost hold of completely. Singing Christmas carols one winter when she was about eight or nine. She wondered if this was how loved ones, since departed, were allowed to communicate with those of us left behind and missing them.
Chapter 28
In the weak light just before dawn, the Comanche horse herd could be seen shifting about and soon teepees began to reveal themselves near the bottom of the hill. Caleb and Jonas took turns lying atop the ridge eyeing the camp, hoping to spot Mattie.
“This ain’t a good spot,” Jonas determined, looking around behind them. “They can’t see us up here from their camp, but anyone coming up behind us would spot us. We’ll have to keep a look out that way.”
That morning, a dozen or more warriors and many women and children started out the camp opposite them. They made their way through the horse herd that parted for them before oozing back together like a puddle of mud stepped in. Caleb looked for Mattie among those leaving, thinking she could easily be taken back outside the camp once the women and children became strung out behind the warriors on horseback. Caleb watched through the binoculars, but did not see her. There were still roughly forty warriors in camp along with other women and children.
“What are we going to do?” Caleb asked.
“I don’t know. We’re not in a good spot here,” Jonas said honestly. “I was hoping to avoid it, but we might have to sneak in there and get her.” Jonas pointed at the young warrior. “His going missing is likely keeping someone up at night and that someone just might be in the same teepee we need to sneak into. Hopefully some other way will present itself before it comes to that, but we can’t sit out here day after day exposed like we are.”
They sat in the heat most of that day thinking on what other way they might extract Mattie from the camp; that and eyeing the approach behind them with the field glasses. When the other warriors came back from their hunt things would only get dodgier. The idea of sneaking in at night seemed a poor one; since waking Mattie would probably cause a commotion and just the idea of getting past the dogs that were staked outside their teepees troubled Jonas. Little else of worth came to them, that is till that evening. In fact it came looking for them. At least Jonas thought the boy was.
“There,” Jonas said pointing. “That’s how we’ll get your child back.”
Caleb looked and spotted a small boy wandering out from the camp. The boy seemed to have no destination in mind as he would head one way and then turn and start another before changing his mind again. It was the same boy who had covered up the dog Caleb had killed.
“That’s the kid that covered …”
“Yeah.”
“How is he any help?”
“He’s looking for us,” Jonas explained.
Caleb did not think the boy was looking for them and he told Jonas as much, but Jonas said he was certain the boy was.
“What good would it do anyway?” Caleb asked.
“He’ll come in handy.”
“For us or them?”
“For us,” Jonas answered. “We’ll send him back to get your child,” Jonas said. “He’ll bring her out to us.”
“He might bring a dozen Comanche warriors out with him.”
“No,” Jonas said. “He wants us to take him with us.”
“I doubt that kid could even count to how old he is, and even if he could it would be in Spanish, you said he doesn’t speak English.”
“He seems pretty bright; I think he figures were out here somewhere. How much Spanish you know?”
“Nada,” Caleb said.
“Well that’s okay,” Jonas said smirking, “that kid probably don’t know a lot either. But we’ll make him understand.”
“You think he can help?” Caleb asked just as he saw the boy lose his balance and fall, dizzy from turning around so much.
“It’s that or the two of us can rush what’s left of the entire Comanche Nation.”
Caleb thought Jonas’ idea over for a moment. “All right, but how we gonna get him up here ta talk ta him?”
“Just hope he keeps coming this way.”
The boy wandered mostly closer and Jonas and Caleb kept their eye on him like farmers in need of rain watching a dark and distant cloud. The boy seemed ready to peter out and turn around when Jonas slipped over the ridge and crawled towards him through the tall grass. The boy spotted him, or so Caleb thought, for he stopped and appeared to be staring at Jonas who motioned for him to come closer.
The boy ran towards Jonas and Jonas drew him down out of sight, and then the two of them came back over the ridge. The boy chattered away and neither man would have been able to understand anything he said even if it was English. Then the boy noticed the young warrior tied up nearby and stared at him.
"Hijo del caballo negro,” the boy said pointing at him.
“What’s he saying?”
“I caught Black Horse,” Jonas said, familiar with those two words. “I think he’s saying we got Black Horse’s son here.
“Oh, I guess that clears that up.”
The boy lost interest in the young warrior and pointed at Caleb’s sombrero. Caleb took it off and placed it on his head. Still the boy did not stop yammering. Finally Jonas placed his hand over the boy’s mouth to shut him up.
“How do we do this?” Jonas asked.
“I don’t know, but we got to do it quickly before they miss him,” Caleb said rubbing the temples of his head - the heat and light and now this boy were conspiring to give him a headache. He looked over the ridge hoping to spot Mattie right then, but did not. Jonas judged the sun’s angle – another half hour and it would be dark and anyone would have difficulty following them then if they could get Mattie.
Caleb figured the boy in front of him, though small and thin and not remarkable looing in any way except for the wide sombrero, was remarkable though because he could go back to the camp, no one thinking anything of it, find Mattie, and bring her out. What it came down to was getting the boy to agree.
“Senorita,” Caleb said, pointing towards the camp with one hand and holding the other waist high to indicate a little girl. It was the only word he could think of meaning female.
“Blanco,” Jonas added.
The boy nodded and smiled, but Caleb doubted he understood - he was happy just to have found them. From there he did not know how to proceed. He knew more Spanish, but what words he could think of were useless and the rest he could not pull from the recesses of his head.
“Let’s give him something to eat,” Jonas said. They gave the boy dried fruit while Caleb looked over the ridge at the camp. A word formed in Caleb’s head and he returned to try it on the boy.
“Vamoose,” Caleb said pointing first at the boy and then towards the camp.
“No,” the boy said shaking his head inside Caleb’s sombrero which moved little with the boy’s head.
“Sí,” Caleb said. “You vamoose con mi gringa.”
The boy did not understand, he had a puzzled look on his face. Caleb was aware that what he was saying probably made little sense, but he was hoping the boy could jumble the individual words together into some meaning. “How do you say you in Spanish?”
“Ustead,” Jonas answered, remembering the phrase the boy had spoken to him.
“Ustead,” Caleb said pointing at the boy.
“Pedro,” the boy stated jabbing a finger into his thin chest.
“Pedro. Your name is Pedro,” Caleb said, aiming his finger at the boy.
“Sí,” the boy answered.
“Mi,” Caleb said tapping his chest, “niña es there,” he said pointing at the camp, suddenly recalling the word Juan Romero had used. “Even if this kid understood English I couldn’t get him to go back to that camp,” Caleb said frustratingly towards Jonas, but looking over the ridge again and suddenly spotting Mattie.
He grabbed the binoculars to check if it was her and when he saw that it was he yanked the sombrero off the boy and drug him by his arm towards the top of the ridge. Caleb pulled Pedro down out of sight and put his hand on top the boy’s head and aimed it at Mattie. He pointed at her, repeating, niña, and held the binoculars in front of the boy’s eyes. After overcoming his initial amusement of them - the boy steadied the binoculars and looked through them.
“La niña blanca,” the boy said lowering the binoculars and having regained his smile. “La niña blanca,” the boy repeated trying to please them.
“Little white girl,” Jonas said. “He’s saying little white girl.”
“Sí, sí, sí,” Caleb said excitedly. “Mi niña blanca,” Caleb said tapping his chest with his fingers to make the boy understand it was his child. The boy nodded, he understood, it was the man’s child in the camp.
“Usted. How do you say get?” Caleb asked Jonas.
“I don’t know.”
“Bring la niña here,” Caleb said pointing at Mattie and signaling her being brought to him by bringing his hand back towards him in an arc and then pointing at the ground. “Bring her out here with you,” Caleb said pointing again at Mattie and motioning with his hand again. The boy nodded. It was not difficult for him to understand that man wanted his child brought out from the camp.
“Llevar a la blanca niña aquí?” the boy said pointing at the space between him and Caleb.
“Sí, aqui aqui.”
“He’s got it. He’s got it,” said Jonas. “I told ya.”
Caleb smiled at Jonas and patted the boy on the head. The boy stood to go and Caleb jerked him back out of sight. “What if she won’t come with him?”
Jonas thought quickly. “You got anything of hers?”
“No,” Caleb said ashamedly.
“Something of yours she’ll recognize?”
Caleb thought about the things in his saddlebag - nothing useful there. The ticking in his pocket seemed to grow louder. “This watch maybe,” he said drawing it out. “She’s seen it a few times; I’ve let her hold it.”
“Give it to him.”
Caleb handed the watch to the boy and closed his small hands around it. “Llevar a la blanca niña aquí,” he repeated to the boy.
“Llevarme con usted?” The boy asked.
“Sí, sí,” Jonas said nodding at the boy. “That’s what he said to me the other day,” Jonas told Caleb. “We’ll take you with us,” he told the boy. The boy believed him and started over the hill towards the camp.
“You ready for this?” Jonas asked drawing his pistol and checking the rounds in the chamber.
“Yeah,” Caleb said picking up the binoculars.
“If we can get away cleanly, there won’t be much light for them to track us by,” Jonas said, calculating.
It seemed a long time before the boy reached the camp. Caleb watched him move in and out of sight like a bird flitting around tree limbs, moving through the camp, looking for Mattie. Caleb spotted her before the boy did and waited nervously for him to find her. The boy did. Mattie backed away when he ran up to her, but only a few feet. The boy pointed, not subtlety, at the ridge and opened his hand to show her the watch he held. Mattie took it from him. She was sure to recognize it, Caleb thought, and looking at her now, he saw her eyes lift and follow the line of the boy’s arm, which pointed at the ridge.
“Don’t give us away,” Caleb said.
Jonas went and gathered up the reins to the horses and then came back. He let Black Horse’s son know he was keeping his eye on him and then he lay on the ground peering over the ridge. The Mexican boy was motioning for Mattie to follow him. She hesitated at first, but then started following him and they both began running towards the ridge.
“He’s got her,” Caleb said.
Jonas quickly scanned the camp to see if anyone was watching Mattie and the boy leaving. A warrior riding along the edge of the camp caught his attention. He looked back at Mattie and Pedro and saw they had stopped. They were looking back at an Indian in the camp that was waving them, or maybe just the boy back. The boy looked towards the ridge, but then started back towards the camp. He motioned for Mattie to keep go
ing, but Mattie remained standing there, frozen.
“Keep coming Mattie. Please God let her keep coming,” Caleb pleaded.
Mattie stood there for another moment, but then she started towards the ridge again. She looked awful thin to Caleb, but for now that was a blessing because she blended in with the tall grass that grew on the hill’s slopes.
Jonas looked again at the warrior making a circuit around the camp on horseback. He took the binoculars from Caleb to look closer. “That’s Black Horse,” he said pointing.
“What?”
“That’s him taking a look around,” Jonas said pointing again and Caleb took the binoculars back to look at him.
When Pedro returned to the camp, the warrior who had waved him back, sent him to fetch water for the horse he was grooming. The warrior pointed to a gourd and Pedro quickly retrieved some water from the stream, brought the warrior it and stepped back. Moments later, when the Indian turned his back, the boy was gone.
Mattie was making her way toward the ridge, but was down a ways from him, so Caleb slid backwards down the ridge until he could stand up and not be seen from the Comanche camp. He ran towards the part of the hill where he thought she was on the other side. When he came back to the top of the ridge he saw Pedro running out of the camp, but then the boy stopped again. Caleb looked and saw the warrior signaling for Pedro to return again and Pedro was frozen, unsure what to do.
Jonas was watching the boy also. “Go back,” Jonas whispered. “I’ll wait for you.”
Mattie had stopped half way up the ridge, wanting to spot her father and Caleb softly yelled to her. She spotted him then and she ran towards the top of the ridge. When she arrived there, Caleb grabbed her and pulled her down out of sight. He hugged her and told her he loved her. He took the watch from her and placed it in his pocket and then they both started back toward Jonas, Caleb carrying her in his arms.
Pedro decided not to return to the camp. Instead he started running towards the men who had come for him. The warrior, watching him, mounted his horse and rode after him. When Pedro saw the brave coming after him, he started yelling and while Jonas could not understand the boy words, he could recognize their desperate and pleading quality. Caleb and Mattie came down the ridge and Caleb put her on his horse and quickly climbed up behind her.
