Kah squinted at me in disbelief. “I’ve seen you shoot. Why did you miss?”
“I can’t hit what I can’t see. Beela-chezzi and I went back to Juh’s camp. Three days later, a warrior sent by Victorio to ask Juh for help with bullets and horses said he was resting his pony in the Río Casas Grandes bosque and saw the witch. He heard him tell the Comanches that he would meet them in Elias’s camp in the Blue Mountains in three moons and to stay there until he came. Juh sent a warrior, Kitsizil Lichoo’, his son with the red hair, to show Beela-chezzi and me the trail to the camp. Elias welcomed us but said no Comanches had yet come.”
A smile of disgust formed on half of Kah’s face. “Elias lied.”
“Yes, we all thought so. We told Elias we would return in two moons to wait for the Comanches and the witch. We left for Juh’s stronghold, but stopped and watched the camp, and after a while saw a rider take another trail east. We followed him and found the witch with the two Comanches at a hacienda a little east of Casas Grandes. That night the witch and Comanches left the hacienda. I followed the witch east, and Beela-chezzi and Kitsizil Lichoo’ followed the Comanches north.
“Four days ago, the witch ambushed me and killed my pony, and the next day I killed his. I wanted to catch him before he crossed the great river and disappeared into the land of the In-dah. I made a child’s mistake hurrying to catch him. He ambushed me again from the mesquite thicket four bowshots west of the bosque. I had enough strength to stagger to the bosque and see him wading across. He was almost to the far side. I was bleeding and sweating, and the darkness had almost taken me when I tried to aim. The witch saw me and brought his rifle up. Even half-blind, I was quicker than he was and shot him high in the chest. He fell backwards and then rose to the surface facedown in the river and floating to the far side. I thought maybe he was dead, but soon he stood up and staggered out of the water and into the trees. Blackness overcame me, and I slept until you woke me up. The witch and I have wounded each other and lived to fight another day.”
Kah sat shaking his head. “Ussen watches out for you, Yellow Boy. Sleep. I’ll watch through the night in case the witch comes back. I’ll track him and kill him myself when the sun comes.”
CHAPTER 7
KAH RETURNS
Birds calling in the trees and squawking flocks on the water woke me. The sun, a metallic orange egg fast turning yellow, lay just above the horizon. Kah had built up the fire. Tilting up my head and looking around, I didn’t see him anywhere. I felt better than the day before, but my wound throbbed with every breath, and I had a thirst as though I had run all day in the desert with only pebbles in my mouth. Kah had left the Indah canteen next to my blanket, and I worked the plug off and drank half of it before I rolled off the blanket to my knees and managed to stand without falling into a pit of darkness.
My side felt like Kah was still sticking his red knife in it. Little flashes of light drifted before my eyes until I steadied myself and staggered to the bushes to do my morning business. It took the last strand of my will to keep from falling when I returned to the blanket. I lay down with no strength left and hoped Kah would return soon.
The fire died down to a few coals in the cool, moist air of the dark, green bosque, and I drifted in and out of consciousness, floating along like driftwood bobbing on the surface of the river. The sun shot its arrows through the trees as it rode toward the top of the sky, their pools of light, shimmering and bright, drifting across my body. Then suddenly, as if stepping out of a dream’s mists, Kah stood at my feet watching me, his arms crossed, concern filling his face.
“How do you feel, Aashcho (my friend)?”
I spoke as if in a dream, slow and thick-tongued. “My side thumps with every breath, but doesn’t bleed. I’m weak and can barely stand to visit the bushes. Where did you go and what have you learned?”
Kah nodded, his eyes never leaving me, and said, “I looked for the witch. I found where he came out of the water. Truly, he’s a giant. I have never seen such tracks. I think you shot him good. I found little splashes of blood on bush leaves, and his path was crooked as he staggered forward.”
“He’s a giant, bald and ugly. He’s over a forearm taller than you are, and you’re tall for an Apache, even taller than I am. Where’d he go? Is he dead?”
“Not far from the river are a few Tejano vaqueros with a cattle herd headed for Blue Coat places along the river, places the In-dah call Camp Rice and Fort Quitman. Blue Coats with dark faces and short, curly hair camp with them. Victorio thinks these are good places to take a Blue Coat fort and then ride deep into the land of the Tejanos. The witch’s tracks say he took a horse from the drovers’ herd and rode hard north and east. He’s gone, and I’ll never catch him, but the drovers might. They left their cattle to chase him.”
I nodded. “They won’t catch him. He’s too smart for them. Vengeance must wait until he returns.”
“How do you know he’ll return?”
“He told the Comanches who were with him he’d go to the Comanche reservation, find warriors, and come back to take Apache scalps for Nakai-yi pesh-klitso and to find me. Our business isn’t finished.”
Kah looked at his feet and shook his head. “No, it isn’t finished . . . if you live. I must get you back to Juh’s camp before the Happy Land calls you. Do you think you can stay on a pony?”
“Yes.”
“Good. The cattle herders will lose another pony tonight. Rest while I fix something to eat.”
Kah roasted a rabbit and found some wild onions and potatoes for us to eat. I slept as the sun fell in the west. I awoke stronger, but my side still felt on fire. Kah took a tan mustang from the cattle herders, and, by the time a fingernail moon rose above the Tejano mountains, he had me on the mustang ready to ride. Kah made a rope halter for my pony so he could lead him. All I had to do was hold on to the saddle horn and stay on the pony. My wound burned like fire in my side, but I am an Apache, taught to endure and overcome suffering. I managed to stay in the saddle all that night.
We stopped at a small water seep to rest and water the ponies. Kah gave me water from the canteen, but he took none, saying he didn’t need it. I lay down in the grass by the seep and tried to rest, but the fire in my side kept me awake and conjured up images of the witch and what he did to He Watches. I thought of Juanita and remembered what the witch said he would do to her if he found us. The thought tore at my heart and gave me the strength I needed to return to her and our coming child.
Dawn, a dusty golden glow on our backs, came, and still we rode. Flashes of black, the opposite of lightning in a storm from the season of rain and wind, closed my mind for moments at a time, but I held on with all my strength and did not fall from the saddle.
In the middle of the time between dawn and the sun’s shortest shadows, we came to a Mexican water tank where a creaking wheel on a tower pulled water from the ground. The cattle tracks around it showed that many watered there. We knew vaqueros must use the water, too, but decided our need to rest the ponies greater than our fear of discovery. Kah watered the horses while I fell into deep sleep in the shade of thick creosotes growing tall and green from the water spilled from the tank.
We stayed by the water tank the rest of the day, Kah watchful and napping; me, weaker than when we left the river, locked in a deep, dreamless sleep. I finally opened my eyes to see the blood reds, purples, and oranges covering the sky as Kah shook me awake and gave me water. We ate all that was left of the food cache Juanita made for me when Kitsizil Lichoo’, Beela-chezzi, and I left for the camp of Elias. I was weaker than the night before, and my side continued to burn and throb. Kah changed my poultice and said I was not bleeding, but that the place around the wound looked red and felt warm, which was not a good sign. He helped me mount, and we rode on through the night.
As the night sky began disappearing with the coming sun, we rode in the Río Casas Grandes bosque and, staying in the trees, rode around Casas Grandes village past the little hacienda where th
e witch had brought the baby. My strength nearly gone, I held on to the saddle horn as if it were my last link to life when Kah helped me down and hid me in the willows by the river.
He decided we were far enough from Casas Grandes that it was safe to build a small fire and make stew with the rest of the jerked beef he carried and plants growing near the river. We ate it as the sun began to fall toward the Blue Mountains, and I felt strength begin to return to my body. Still, Kah had to help me mount when we rode away from the river, its night sounds from frogs and insects filling the air.
I showed Kah the way to the witch’s hacienda and told him that, while Beela-chezzi and I had taken much from the place, it still ought to hold much of use. He said, “Good. I’ll tell Victorio and lead him here.”
The night passed. The trail clear and easy, we traveled far and found the arroyo approaching the trail up to Juh’s stronghold as the sun spread light on the llano. My side had grown numb. I felt nothing, but the black flashes to my mind came more frequently until one came and stayed. I slumped off my pony and fell in the sand in the arroyo. I was lucky and didn’t hit a rock, break a bone, or crack my head.
Kah came back for me and drove the darkness from my mind. He helped me stand and mount his pony. He mounted behind me and put his left arm under my shoulders and around my chest, and we rode up the steep trail to Juh’s stronghold that way. Juh’s camp wickiups had no one living in them, but Kah saw plumes of smoke from the Mescalero tipis at the edge of the trees by the little stream and rode toward them. It had been the hardest ride of my life, and I could not have made it without the help of my friend.
CHAPTER 8
BEELA-CHEZZI’S STORY
The darkness left my head like black thunderclouds slowly parting for the sun. I opened my eyes and saw a rough, brown star-burst of lodge poles surrounded by white and pointing toward a sky blotched with branches from pine trees. Although thirst filled my throat, my mouth watered at the smells of a meat stew and mesquite bean bread. I lowered my eyes and saw the concern and strength in the face of my woman. Juanita sat next to my blanket studying my face, her legs folded under her, her belly starting to swell with the child we had wanted for a long time.
“Yellow Boy, my man, is in our lodge. My heart has wings. His wound will heal, and his strength will return.”
“My woman brings my heart the goodness of life. Is there water?”
She nodded and smiled, and holding my head up brought a water gourd to my lips. I drank it dry and nodded enough when she raised her brows to ask.
“I smell your stew pot and mesquite bread. I have great hunger. Is it ready?”
Her eyes sparkled with delight. “I’ll bring it to you.”
She helped me sit up and then lean back against a woven willow backrest she pulled in place before getting the stew and bread. I felt a fresh bandage over the bullet hole in my side and knew the smell of a poultice for which Kah could not find the herbs at the great river. She handed me a bowl of stew and the bread on a broad, green leaf. I ate as if I hadn’t eaten in days, and I realized I hadn’t had much to eat since I began the chase for the witch. Perhaps he wanted to kill his enemies through starvation.
I finished wiping the bowl clean with the last bite of bread, sighed, and said, “My woman makes the best of stews and bread. I thank her. How long have I slept?”
“Kah brought you to me three days ago. We feared you might not wake up. My stew pot says that is not so. My husband returns to the land of the living.”
“The child in your belly, all is well?”
She smiled and nodded. “All is well. Your mother and Carmen Rosario tell me I can do no better. Now, tell me what happened with the witch.”
I looked down and shook my head in disgust.
“We found his hacienda in Casas Grandes. Beela-chezzi and Kitsizil Lichoo’ followed the Comanches that were with him north, and I followed the witch toward the great river, staying out of sight and looking for a place to ambush him. Somehow, he learned I was following him and ambushed me. He missed me but killed my pony. Later in the day, I managed to kill his pony, and then it was a foot race for the great river. I knew if he made it across the great river into the land of the Tejanos, I’d probably never catch him. There are too many Indah on the land, too many Blue Coats looking for us.”
A breeze passed through the trees, and I heard the voice of my mother somewhere outside speaking to my little brother. I looked at my hands, sorry that I had to tell my wife what happened next.
“In the dawn light of the fourth day, I could see the great river’s bosque and, in a hurry to stop him, I made another mistake and ran exposed across an open space. He was hiding in the mesquite thicket I ran for and shot me. The ground was sandy and I fell in a low place. His other bullets missed me. I waited, listening for him to come and finish me off. I was ready to kill him, but he ran for the river instead. When he didn’t come, I crawled to my feet and got to the bosque in time to see him wading across the great river and nearly to the far side. My strength failing fast, I rested my rifle on a log, darkness filling my eyes. He turned to look over his shoulder and saw me. He threw up his rifle to shoot, but I was faster and shot him here in his upper chest. I thought I had killed him because he floated facedown in the river and drifted a little way, but soon he stood up and staggered up the bank on the far side. Then darkness filled my eyes until I woke by Kah’s fire. He has told you the rest?”
She murmured, “Yes, Kah told me the rest. Will the witch come back?”
“He’ll come back, and I’ll shoot out his eyes.”
She stroked my hand and curled her fingers around it. “I’m glad Yellow Boy lives to fight another day. The witch is powerful. It will take much strength to kill him. Now rest.”
I nodded. “Before I do, tell me if Beela-chezzi and Kitsizil Lichoo’ have returned.”
“Yes. They came three days before you. Neither is hurt, and they say they’ve sent one of the two Comanches to the Happy Land, and they believe the other one is riding for the camp of Elias.”
My eyelids, heavy with sleep, I said, “Hmmph. Good. I’ll speak with them when I wake up.”
Beela-chezzi, Kitsizil Lichoo’, and I sat in my tipi and smoked one of my strong, black cigarros. After we blew smoke to the four directions, I said, “Tell me how you took the Comanche.” Beela-chezzi looked at Kitsizil Lichoo’, who dipped his head toward him, as if to say, You tell it.
Beela-chezzi gathered his thoughts and said, “The Comanches rode north along the Río Casas Grandes and then turned west as if they would ride back to the witch’s hacienda. I told this to Kitsizil Lichoo’, and we decided they planned to return and look for anything of worth left for the taking. We rode our ponies hard and fast to get ahead of them and stopped at the stone watchtower on the hill where we had watched the witch and his warriors before we attacked the hacienda.
“I studied the place using Blue Coat be’idest’íné (binoculars). The hacienda, burned black and crumbling, still had a few walls standing. White bones from those we killed lay scattered over the ground, picked clean by the big black birds and coyotes. We had left the stable standing after we loaded the slave women and children in wagons and sent them to Casas Grandes. When I’d searched the stable, looking for your Yellow Boy rifle on the night we freed you, I’d seen that the witch kept many good things there such as boxes of rifles, bullets, saddles, and even a big gun with many barrels riding on wheels. Because of this, I thought maybe the Comanches planned to guard the witch’s treasure until he returned with more warriors. Looking back down the trail, I saw a small dust streamer on the wagon road to the hacienda, so we mounted and rode for the stable.”
I smiled as I thought of what the Comanches must have thought when they opened the stable doors to stare down the rifle barrels held by Beela-chezzi and Kitsizil Lichoo’.
“Soon the Comanches came. We watched them through the cracks in the stable door. They watered their horses in the arroyo running in front of the hacien
da. One of the Comanches walked over to the stable while the other began to unsaddle their ponies. The one at the stable door began to pull it open when the one unsaddling the ponies yelled, ‘Careful! Fresh pony tracks!’We kicked the door open and killed that Comanche at the door before he could even raise his rifle. The other one ran and, hanging between their ponies, rode into the bosque lining the arroyo and up the other side. Like the wind, he rode out across the llano headed for the eastern hills. We ran for the arroyo. By the time we were through the brush on the other side, where we could get a shot, only streamers of dust in the distance showed him riding one horse and leading the other. Our ponies still hung their heads, worn out from getting to the hacienda first. We had no chance of catching him and didn’t try. I think we’ll see him again sometime and his luck will leave him. That’s all I have to say.”
“Juanita told me you think he’s going to the camp of Elias. Why do you think this?”
“I watched his dust streamer awhile with the be’idest’íné, thinking he might come back to take us when we did not expect him. He made a long, swooping trail from the east back to the west and north toward the Blue Mountains. If I had wanted to go to Elias’s camp, that’s the direction I’d have taken. I think he’ll try to hide there until the witch brings new warriors.”
I looked at Kitsizil Lichoo’. He nodded.
I said, “Warrior with red hair, what do you think we should do?”
He didn’t hesitate. “We must go to the camp of Elias and kill the Comanche before he fills the head of Elias with thoughts of coming after us, and I think we need to cache the supplies in the stable so Sangre del Diablo can’t get them.”
Beela-chezzi grinned. “In two days, I’ll take pack ponies and helpers to get the witch’s treasure. I know a big cave nearby where we can cache it.”
Blood of the Devil Page 5