by Tim Tingle
“One blow and you’re dead, Fire Eye,” he said with a sneer on his face. “Are you ready for that?”
Danny said nothing. He met Mr. Dime’s strong gaze with one of his own.
“Maybe Jim Davis and I will die on the same day,” Danny thought. “Maybe it is meant to be.”
“Let’s put it to a vote,” Mr. Dime said. “So, who wants to bury this boy today, right here in the cotton field?”
He turned and expected his fellow prisoners to cheer him on. Instead, no one said a word.
For the first time in Mr. Dime’s life, the other prisoners were standing up to him. They looked at Danny Blackgoat and saw a brave young man, a young man who had done something they had never had the courage to do themselves. This Indian boy had thrown himself at the meanest bully they had ever known, a man known for killing a dozen men.
Mr. Dime asked again, “Who wants to help me kill this animal?”
One by one the men turned away. They picked up their hoes and walked back to work. If Mr. Dime wanted to kill the Indian, he would have to do it on his own.
Mr. Dime cursed the other prisoners. “You are no better than he is, you bunch of cowards!” he called to them as they moved away.
When he turned to Danny, the boy stood his ground. Mr. Dime struck him in the face with the handle. Danny tried to block the blow with his wrist, but Mr. Dime was powerful. In a few minutes he stood over Danny, kicking him again and again.
“That’s enough!” shouted the guard.
POW!
He fired his shotgun into the air to make his point. Mr. Dime picked up his basket of cottonseeds and walked away, leaving Danny Blackgoat lying in a pool of dark blood. Two prisoners carried him to his cot in the barracks. Danny moaned in agony. Whichever way he rolled, a new pain shot though him.
“Lie still for a moment,” a man’s voice commanded.
Danny looked up to see a soldier he had never seen before.
“I’m a doctor,” the man said. “I’m here to help you.”
“He’s an Indian,” said a prisoner. “He don’t know how to talk.”
The doctor nodded and turned to Danny. He moved a finger to his lips, telling Danny to be quiet. Then he held his palms in front of him and moved them up and down slowly, telling Danny to stay still. Danny relaxed.
The doctor picked up Danny’s arms, one at a time. He lifted his legs, too.
After ten minutes, he stood and said, “Well, he doesn’t have any broken bones. He’s lucky. He wouldn’t be the first man Mr. Dime killed.”
Chapter 9
Mr. Dime and the Rattlesnake
Danny stayed in bed for the next two days. On the morning of the third day, he returned to the cotton field. While the other prisoners drank their coffee, he lingered on the edge of the campfire. He wanted to avoid the glaring eyes of Mr. Dime.
“Look who’s come to work today,” Mr. Dime said. “You ready for a real whipping, boy?”
“There won’t be any more whipping, Dime. I’ve got my eyes on you,” a soldier said. “This boy came back to work and that’s what he’s gonna do, same as you. Now, let’s get started!”
The guard handed him a basket of seeds, but Danny shook his head.
“It’s your life,” said the soldier.
He lifted Danny’s hoe from the back of the supply wagon and tossed it at his feet.
“Just remember,” he warned, “it’s not a weapon.”
Mr. Dime stared hard at Danny. On his way to the field he stuck his hoe handle in front of Danny, trying to trip him.
Danny was ready. He turned around and walked away, to the far side of the cotton rows.
“I know his plan,” Danny thought. “He will leave me alone mostly. But he will never forget what I did, how I fought him back. One day, when everybody has forgotten about him wanting to kill me, Mr. Dime will come at me. I know he will. He’ll wait till dark and try to kill me.”
A week later, an hour before dawn, Danny felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He was asleep in the barracks. When he opened his eyes, there stood Jim Davis. He sat up, surprised to see his friend.
“Didn’t think you’d ever see me again, did you?” Davis asked. “I snuck out. I’m not supposed to be walking yet, but I had to come see you. I can’t stay long.”
Davis sat on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know how to talk so you’ll understand me. But I’m gonna try anyway.”
Davis gripped Danny on the shoulder and looked him in the eyes.
“Thank you, Fire Eye,” Davis said. “You saved my life. I will never forget that.”
He pounded his chest with his fists, smiling. Then he took a deep breath till his cheeks swelled, still pounding on his chest. Finally, Danny smiled, too.
“Good,” said Davis. “You understand me. Thank you,” he repeated, and Danny nodded.
“I wanted to tell you,” Davis continued, “I’m not working in the fields anymore.”
He pointed to the fields and made a hoeing motion with his arms.
“No field work for Jim Davis,” he said, shaking his head.
“No?” Danny asked.
“Well, you are understanding,” said Davis. “I am the carpenter now.”
Davis pointed in the other direction.
“Car-pen-ter,” he said slowly.
“Car-pen-ter,” Danny echoed.
“Yes,” said Davis. “I build things. Like coffins, when somebody dies.”
Danny tilted his head in a questioning way.
“You don’t understand yet,” said Davis, “but you will. I’ll make sure you do. But I better go before they catch me.”
He waved good-bye and slipped out the door.
“Ahéhé,” Danny whispered to himself. He opened his deerskin pouch and tossed corn pollen to the morning sun.
The night after Jim Davis’s visit, Danny had the worst dream since his arrival at Fort Davis.
“Your dreams are important,” Danny’s grandfather always told him. “They carry warnings. No one should ignore their dreams.”
Danny dreamed he was digging tall weeds in the cotton field. He heard something in the grass. When he parted the weeds to take a look, a giant lizard rose far over Danny’s head.
The lizard opened its mouth and flashed two rows of shiny, sharp teeth. He pulled back his head and sank his teeth into Danny’s chest. Danny called out, but nobody came to help him. The lizard lifted him from the ground and tossed him across the field. Danny fell at the feet of Mr. Dime.
“I see you’ve come for your punishment,” Dime said. And just as he was raising his hoe to strike, Danny woke up.
He was sweating and breathing hard. He glanced around the barracks. The other prisoners were snoring as usual.
“I guess they didn’t hear me,” he whispered to himself.
But Danny couldn’t get back to sleep. He sat on the edge of his bed and remembered the words of his grandfather: “No one should ignore their dreams.”
“I should be very careful today,” he thought.
Danny had coffee and breakfast with the other prisoners that morning. He kept his eyes to the ground, as usual. But he knew exactly where Mr. Dime sat. And when the prisoners rose to go, he grabbed his hoe and walked quickly to the field before Mr. Dime finished his coffee.
Danny’s dream came true in less than an hour. He saw the dry weeds move and sway before he heard anything. When he did hear the sound, it was stronger than he expected.
WHIRRRRR.
Danny knew this sound. Many mornings while his sheep grazed in the canyon, he had heard this sound.
“Rattlesnake,” Danny thought. “That’s the lizard of my dreams!”
He turned to the other prisoners, wanting to warn them. But he didn’t know what to say. When he looked to the weeds, the snake lifted himself high and waved his head back and forth. He opened his mouth and Danny saw two large fangs.
As the snake struck, Danny raised his hoe and caught the blow. He dropped the hoe and ran acro
ss the field to the guards.
“Hey, hey!” he shouted. “Hey, hey!”
“What is it?” asked a guard.
Danny lifted his arm and moved it back and forth in the motion of a snake. Then he opened his fingers wide and made a striking motion, flinging his arm forward.
“A rattlesnake,” said a guard. “He’s telling us there’s a snake in the fields.”
Danny pointed to the spot where his hoe lay. The guard readied the firing pin on his shotgun and moved quickly across the field.
“There it is!” he shouted.
He raised his rifle and fired, but the shot missed.
“He got away,” he said, kicking the dirt.
“All right, men,” said an officer, turning to the prisoners. “The excitement is over. Nobody’s hurt, so get back to work. Be careful where you step. If there’s one rattlesnake, there are others.”
At the noon meal, Danny saw Mr. Dime talking quietly to a group of prisoners. Those prisoners spoke to others, but never when the guards were around.
“He must be planning something,” Danny thought.
Danny was right. But what Mr. Dime was planning was so dark and evil, Danny would never guess it.
Just before quitting time, Danny saw a flurry of movement from a group of prisoners. They pointed to the ground and backed away.
“They’ve spotted a snake,” Danny thought.
“What is it?” shouted a guard.
“Nothing,” said Mr. Dime. “Just a prairie dog. These men are scared of their own shadows today!”
But the men did not return to the cotton row. They moved to another row, all but Mr. Dime. When the guard looked away, Mr. Dime emptied his bag of cotton. He slapped the ground hard with his hoe, then tossed the hoe aside. Holding his bag in front of him, he jumped into the bushes.
“He’s trying to catch the snake,” Danny thought.
Mr. Dime disappeared between the cotton rows.
On the far side of the cotton field a prisoner shouted, “Here’s another snake!”
The guards turned their attention to this new disturbance.
“Leave him alone!” shouted a guard. “It’s time for supper. Come on!”
“There was no second rattlesnake,” Danny thought. “They were giving Mr. Dime time to catch the snake without the guards knowing it.”
On the way to the supper wagon a guard said, “We’ll have the young soldiers look for snakes after supper. They’ll have the fields safe by morning.”
Mr. Dime stayed behind the other prisoners. Danny watched him hide his cotton bag in the bushes near the campfire. He dug a hole and buried the bag, placing a heavy stone on top of it.
Danny also saw the bag move. The rattlesnake whipped its body back and forth as it was buried.
“What does he plan to do with the snake?”
Chapter 10
Death of Fire Eye
That night, after everyone was sound asleep and snoring, Danny crawled from his bed. He crept slowly from one creaking board to another and slipped outside. Clouds covered the moon.
Danny stayed close to the buildings and away from any windows. He moved through the shadows until he came to the door of the carpenter shop. The door was unlocked, so he entered. Closing the door behind himself, Danny froze.
“What if Jim Davis is not alone?” he thought. “What if someone else lives here too?”
“Who is it?” a voice boomed.
Danny leaned against the door without moving.
“Fire Eye?” Jim Davis asked. “Is that you?”
Danny said nothing. He moved to the bedside of his friend. Davis laughed and patted the bed.
“Here,” he said, “have a seat while I get dressed.”
Danny hung his head and waited, embarrassed at what he had done.
“I’m glad you came,” Davis said. “Let’s go outside. No need to be afraid.”
He opened the door and Danny followed. Davis sat on the porch step and Danny sat beside him. The two sat without speaking for a long time. Finally, Davis moved his hand to Danny. He lifted his chin until Danny looked him in the eyes.
“Son,” Davis said, “you won’t know what I’m saying. Not yet. But I’ve been thinking about this for a while. You are smart. That’s why you are trouble for the soldiers.”
Danny stared at his friend.
“You need to learn how to talk, son. Two languages. And I know your name is not Fire Eye. I don’t want to call you that anymore.”
Davis pointed to his chest.
“My name is Jim Davis,” he said. He tapped himself on the chest. “Jim Davis.”
Danny nodded.
“Say it, son. Jim Davis.”
“Gee-um Day-vis,” Danny said, slowly and carefully.
“That’s it, son! Say it again!” Davis stood and patted his chest with his palm.
“Jim Day-vis,” Danny said.
“Yes! Again! Say it again!” Davis shouted.
Danny smiled and pointed to his friend. “Jim Davis,” he said.
Davis threw his head back and laughed. He pulled Danny to his chest and gave him a powerful hug.
“Jim Davis,” Danny said, his voice muffled.
“Now,” Davis said. “I want to know your name. I know it’s not Fire Eye. I want to know your real name. How can we do this?”
He stepped back. Very slowly he pointed to himself.
“Jim Davis. My name is Jim Davis.”
Then he pointed to Danny.
“Fire Eye,” Davis said, shaking his head.
Danny understood.
“My name is Danny Blackgoat,” he said.
Jim Davis stepped back. His jaw dropped and tears streamed down his face.
“Danny Blackgoat,” he said. “My name is Jim Davis. Your name is Danny Blackgoat. I am so proud of you, Danny.”
Chapter 11
Fangs of Poison
Mr. Dime never slept soundly. His dreams kept him awake. Sometimes he dreamed of dying in a blaze of gunfire. Other nights he was chased by soldiers and rode his horse off a cliff. But he always woke up, tossing and rolling on his bed, just before he hit the ground.
Tonight’s dream was about the rattlesnake. Dime dreamed the snake slithered from the bag and crawled out of the hole. It slid through the gates of the fort and entered the barracks. As if it knew exactly where it was going, the snake came to Mr. Dime’s bed.
The six-foot-long rattlesnake climbed up the log wall and hung himself over Dime’s head. It opened its mouth and dangled its fangs. Closer and closer it moved to Mr. Dime’s face. Finally, it reared back its head, ready to strike.
“NO!” Dime shouted, kicking his legs and rolling to the floor.
When he realized it was just a bad dream, Dime stood up and looked around the barracks. No one heard him holler. But something was strange.
“Where is that Fire Eye boy?” he whispered to himself.
Danny Blackgoat had already left for his visit with Jim Davis. His bed was empty. Mr. Dime smiled.
“I’ll have a gift for him when he comes back to bed,” he said.
Dime dressed in a hurry and slipped quietly out the door. He crept behind the building and ran to the back gate of the fort. There was no road leading from this gate, only a path winding to the mountains. On most evenings, this gate was left unguarded.
Dime circled the fort and dashed to the campfire grounds. Moving the rock from the hole, he picked up a small tree branch. He tapped the snake through the bag. The rattlesnake jerked and hissed, snapping its jaws and striking. Mr. Dime waited until the snake coiled into a circle, still in the bag.
WHIRRRRR. WHIRRRRR.
He grabbed the snake by the neck and held tight. The snake shook and wriggled, but Dime’s grip was strong.
When the snake relaxed, Dime tied a knot at the opening of the bag. Never loosening his grip on the rattlesnake’s neck, he ran back to the barracks. He glanced through a window, making certain everyone was still sleeping.
“Good,�
� Dime said. “Fire Eye’s bed is still empty.”
He entered the barracks and hurried to Danny’s bed. He untied the knot. Very carefully he tucked the bag under the covers of Danny’s bed. The rattlesnake slithered from the bag and coiled into a circle, waiting.
Ten minutes later, Danny returned from his visit with Jim Davis. Tired and sleepy, he crept across the floor to his bed.
“Jim Davis is like my grandfather,” he thought as he crawled into bed. “He is a wise old man.”
He smiled and whispered the closing words to his grandfather’s prayer: Nothing will change.
Danny closed his eyes and was almost asleep when change came. He felt something move beneath the covers. Danny waited for a moment.
“What could that be?” he asked himself.
He reached for his ankles. Then he heard it.
WHIRRRRR.
Danny threw back the covers in time to see the rattlesnake whip his head back and strike. He sank his fangs deep into Danny’s leg, just below the knee.
“Oooooow!” Danny shouted. He grabbed the snake by the neck and yanked it from his calf. A sharp dagger of pain shot up his leg. Danny flung the snake across the room as he fell to the floor.
“Hey! Keep it quiet over there!” a prisoner hollered.
“What’s that noise?” said another.
“Hey, Fire Eye’s hurt!” shouted another.
Soon twenty prisoners surrounded Danny, who lay on the floor clutching his leg.
“Looks like he’s been bit by a rattlesnake. Somebody get the doctor.”
“Leave him alone!” a loud voice boomed across the barracks.
The prisoners turned to Mr. Dime.
“He’s better off dead,” Dime said. “He ain’t getting out of this fort alive, anyway. That snake did us all a favor.”
The men looked at each other without speaking. Suddenly, without a word, a prisoner dashed out the door. In less than a minute he returned, but without the doctor. Instead, Jim Davis entered the barracks.
“I heard the young man got snakebit,” Davis said. “Where is he?”
The men parted their circle and pointed to Danny, rocking back and forth and writhing in pain. Danny looked to his friend, pleading with his eyes.
