Puma Son of Mountain Lion

by Dicksion, William Wayne

  Michael continued with the events of going to Santa Fe. Puma had heard these stories before, but it seemed that no matter how often he heard them, the stories always touched him deeply.

  After he had completed the telling, his great-grandparents asked many questions and Michael patiently answered. Then, realizing it was getting late, Grandfather stood and expressed his gratitude to Michael for telling them what had happened to their daughter. He then stated how happy he was to meet his beautiful granddaughter-in-law and his handsome great-grandchildren. He said, “I’m sure you want to rest now. I’ll show you around the plantation tomorrow morning after breakfast as this will all be yours, one day.”

  Carmen went wild when she was shown her room. She exclaimed, “I’ve never seen such a beautiful room!”

  Great-grandmother smiled. “This used to be your grandmother’s room when she was a little girl like you. She was very beautiful, but you’re just as beautiful.”

  Puma’s room was more masculine, but it was just as nice. He had the feeling that the room had not been used often. When he asked about it, Great-grandmother explained, “This room was meant to be for the son we never had. We are pleased to have our great-grandson occupy this room. We hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

  Puma smiled as he thought, How could I not be comfortable here? Great-grandmother would faint if she saw some of the places I’ve slept.

  * * *

  At dawn, Puma was awakened by the crowing of roosters and the sound of men and women going to work in the fields. He stood for a moment watching them from his window. He saw no happiness on their faces, only resignation. They looked healthy. Their houses looked substantial, and the area surrounding their homes was clean and well maintained. Their homes looked better than the houses the peons lived in at the hacienda in New Mexico. Still, it seemed that there was something wrong, but he couldn’t figure it out.

  He noticed a tub of hot water had been placed in his room and fresh clothing lay across a chair. Puma was concerned that someone had been able to enter his room and do all of this while he was sleeping. A man could get killed in the west by being that careless. “I must have been more tired than I realized. I will not be that careless again,” he muttered.

  A knock at his door startled him and a voice, heavy with accent, said, “Breakfast will be served in half an hour.”

  The large clock on the wall indicated six. Puma bathed and dressed quickly, then hurried out the door to look for his father. He knew that his father would have gotten up early and would be somewhere outside. He walked around the plantation home. A river flowed about a hundred yards behind the house, just like at the hacienda, only this river was larger. The water was slow-moving, and it was muddy. He saw his father standing beside the river, looking at the water. He didn’t look up, but Puma knew that his father was aware of his presence.

  “Good morning, Father,” Puma said.

  Without turning, his father responded, “Good morning, son. You must have slept well. You were tired; it’s good that you slept a little longer.”

  “You seem troubled, Father. Is Mother or Carmen not well?”

  “No, I’m not troubled. I’m just reflecting on a situation that exists here. This is a beautiful place. Your great-grandparents are good, honorable people. I do not believe that they would willingly do harm to anyone or anything, yet all this beauty was built and maintained by slave labor. It seems wrong to me.”

  “I don’t understand,” Puma said.

  “No, of course you don’t. You have no way to understand. It’s good that we have these moments to talk. I want to explain the lifestyle of the people who live here. I doubt that you will understand, even after I explain it, because I don’t understand. These dark-skinned people are not paid for their labor. They are slaves.”

  “What does that mean—they are slaves?”

  “They are owned by your great-grandfather, like we own the animals at our ranch.”

  The look on Puma’s face showed his father that he truly didn’t understand.

  “I could sense that there was something wrong" Puma said, "but they seem well cared for. They don’t look hungry. Their homes are better than the homes of our peons.”

  “Yes, they’re well cared for because they’re valuable property. You own Lightning. She is valuable to you, and you take good care of her. Your great-grandparents are kind to their slaves, but not all slave owners are kind. Many are cruel and harsh. I think no man should own another man. We pay our workers, yet we prosper. Your great-grandparents are getting old. One day, we’ll inherit this plantation, and when we do, we’ll free all of these slaves. I hope they’ll be willing to work for wages, but they may not. A deep resentment has built up inside them. They’re hatred is justified, but it will do them more harm than good. They can’t read or write. They can’t even do simple arithmetic. It will be difficult for them to provide for themselves. I think that is the greatest harm that has been done them. They have been denied the knowledge and skills they need to take care of themselves.”

  “What can we do?”

  “I’m not sure, but we must try to understand that both the black people and the white people have been harmed by this lifestyle. We must not be critical of their way of life until we are able to understand it. My mother was a product of this lifestyle, yet she was gentle and kind. These people have been living this way for generations. I doubt that many of the slave owners believe they are doing anything wrong. While we are guests here, we must remember that, and try to be considerate. One day, we’ll do what we can to make it right. We’ll free the slaves and offer them education and employment. Many will reject our offer because they will not understand, or trust our offer. We can’t force them to accept. All we can do is make the offer, and try to help them to adjust to the problems of earning their own way, the same as other men.”

  “Yes, Father, I think I understand.”

  “I’m pleased to have had this chance to tell you about it. Now we must explain it to Carmen. Let’s go to breakfast.”

  For breakfast, they ate hot biscuits and gravy, with ham and grits. It was a happy occasion. After breakfast, a carriage was brought to the front entrance, and everyone jumped in it for a drive around the plantation. The grandparents showed them the bountiful crops and the people working in the fields.

  After a while, Grandmother Constance said, “Drop me and the girls off at the house; then you men can continue looking at the plantation.”

  The carriage driver again stopped at the front entrance, dropped the girls off, and the men continued on. Grandfather spoke in a serious tone, “I would like to try to explain a very complicated social and economic system that exists here. It is not my intent to apologize for it, or to condone it; I only want to explain it.

  “This plantation consists of hundreds of acres of land with fields of cotton, corn, and cane. We have large herds of cattle and a stable of fine horses. The plantation is like your hacienda in New Mexico, in that it is self-sustaining. The people produce almost everything that is needed. We have orchards and gardens where we grow fruit and vegetables. We raise cows for milk and butter, chickens and pigs for meat and eggs. The slaves build and maintain their own homes. On the plantations where the owners treat them well, the slaves live comfortable lives, but they are still slaves. On most plantations, the slave have the run of the place, but they can’t leave the plantation without written permission.

  “On some plantations, black women are bred like cattle. They are forced to submit to the black men, who the owners think will produce the biggest and strongest slaves. The result of this selective breeding is that a race of people has been produced who are bigger and stronger than their ancestors. Many of the owners buy and sell them like cattle. Little or no thought is given to the breaking up of families. The slaves have no say in the buying or selling, and if they object too strongly, they are oftentimes beaten.

  “Women, both black and white, look admiringly at some of the fine specimen of manhood t
hat has been produced by this selective breeding. White men notice the admiring glances that their wives and daughters give these young black men, and they are becoming concerned. Even though strong precautions have been taken to prevent intimacy, there are still occasions where physical joining occur. A strong social stigma is placed upon white women who are found to have been intimate with black men. They are often found to have been involved only after the women become pregnant and produce a baby that has dark skin. To relieve their sense of guilt and society’s condemnation, some white women claim that the sexual encounters were forced upon them. The white men are honor bound to protect their women, and many times the black men are wrongly accused, and they are hanged.”

  Grandfather continued, “White men and boys have been engaging in sexual activity with their female slaves for generations. Sometimes the black women are consenting, and at other times, they are given no choice and are forced to submit. The inevitable results of these sexual encounters are that there are children being born to these black women who were fathered by white men. These activities are strongly criticized, so the white men almost never recognize the children as their biological offspring. The children simply become slaves and are treated as property to be bought and sold. In time, this has created a class of people known as “mulattos.” When children are born as a result of sexual encounters between mulattos and whites, they are called “quadroons.” This combination produces beautiful children, and the females are highly sought after for the purpose of prostitution. They can be found in many of the social clubs that are frequented by the plantation owners.

  “Feelings of resentment, mistrust, and anger have grown between the races. The seeds of strife have been planted, and the end product of that strife is inevitable. There will be violence and bloodshed.”

  Neither Puma nor his father said anything. After a long pause, Grandfather O’Hannon continued showing them around the plantation, until they came to the horse stables. Puma expressed his admiration of a beautiful palomino stallion.

  “You have a good eye for horses,” Grandfather said. “The palomino is yours.” He spoke to one of the servants and said, “Saddle him up for this young man.” Then he looked at Puma. “He is frisky. Do you think you can handle him?”

  Both Michael and Puma smiled. Grandfather nodded and said, “Well, mount up.”

  Puma took the reins, leaped into the saddle and rode off at a full gallop. Grandfather was impressed. “I see what you mean. He’s a fine horseman and an unusually fine young man. I can see he is very perceptive. He doesn’t miss much, does he?”

  Michael replied, “Yes, he’s a fine young man, and he has been trained to be perceptive. His background and training have prepared him well for life in the West, but now I must see to it that he gets a good education. That is one of the reasons we’re here. Both he and Carmen need formal training, and it’s not available in New Mexico.”

  Grandfather O’Hannon said, “Carmen is beautiful, and she should be—like her mother and her grandmother. Carmen is going to be an exceptional woman. She’s very bright. Her great-grandmother and I would be pleased if you would leave her and Puma with us. We have excellent schools in Atlanta. We’ll see to it that they both get the best education available.”

  “Thank you. I’ll discuss it with Juanita. There are things we must do first. I must introduce them to my father’s parents, and then Juanita will be taking Carmen to visit her mother’s family in Spain. She’s the descendant of Spanish nobility on her mother’s side, and they’ll want to meet her.”

  Grandfather O’Hannon, with an astonished look replied, “I never realized until now, but those children’s wealth is vast. You have inherited the McBain shipbuilding business in Virginia. And you’re also heir to your grandfather McBain’s land in Tennessee. You and Juanita own large areas of land in New Mexico. You’re the only descendant of both your mother and father’s people, and now, I find that Carmen may be heir to property in Spain. This is astonishing. It’s all the more reason why the children should get the very best education possible. I think it can be provided right here in Atlanta.”

  Michael said, “As you can see, there’s much to be considered. In any event, we’ll be seeing you again before we return to Santa Fe. We’ll talk more at that time.”

  “Yes, I understand, but please give it careful consideration. Your grandmother and I have been wondering what we should do with the plantation when we pass on. We are so pleased to at long last get to meet Juanita and our great-grandchildren. We were beginning to fear that we might never get a chance to see them.”

  Puma rode back on the palomino and exclaimed, “He’s great! He’s not as fast as Lightning, but he’s strong and quick. Thank you, Grandfather, for offering him to me. I’ll accept him and ride him while we’re here on the plantation, but I cannot take him with me when we leave.”

  “All right, I’ll keep him for you until you return,” Grandfather smiled. “Now, we must let Carmen select one that she likes.”

  “I’ll get her.” Puma dashed off and soon returned with his sister.

  He pointed to the stable of horses and said, “Carmen, you can have your pick. Select whichever one you want.”

  “After watching your brother ride, I won’t even ask if you can ride,” Grandfather laughed.

  Excitedly, Carmen climbed to the top rail of the corral and looked at the horses. She saw a beautiful white mare and asked, “May I ride that one?”

  Grandfather O’Hannon replied, “She’s yours.” Turning to the servant, he said, “Saddle her up.” Quickly he turned to Carmen and asked, “Wait, what kind of saddle do you want?”

  “I want a western saddle, of course,” Carmen answered.

  Grandfather smiled, nodded to the servant and said, “Of course.”

  Puma said, “Come, we’ll ride together.”

  Juanita and grandmother came to see what was happening. Juanita said, “Carmen is an excellent rider, but is it safe?”

  Grandmother said, “Yes, it’s safe and there are many beautiful trails to ride. Would you like to ride, also?”

  “I would like to ride later,” Juanita answered. “I think the children would like to be alone, and it will give us time to talk. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “Yes, we do,” Grandmother agreed. “I want to make preparations for a party so that we can introduce you to our friends. Grandfather and I want them to see what a wonderful family our grandson has. We’re proud of you and our great-grandchildren. They are beautiful.”

  While they rode, Puma told Carmen what their father had told him about the workers.

  “I don’t understand,” Carmen said. “They seem happy. Don’t you hear them singing?”

  “Yes, I hear them singing, but they’re singing sad songs. What Father said was that we must not be critical or voice our opinions about what we think until we have had an opportunity to understand everything a little better.”

  Carmen sighed. “Don’t worry. I won’t stir up trouble.”

  Puma shrugged his shoulders and said, “We’d better ride back now and put these horses away. They’ll be serving lunch soon. Oh, I forgot, they call it ‘dinner’ here. The evening meal they call ‘supper.’”

  When they returned to the plantation home, the men were sitting on the porch, talking seriously. Juanita and Grandmother were inside supervising the arrangements for dinner. Puma remained outside with the men; Carmen went into the house to be with the women.

  Grandfather said, “I’m afraid there’s a civil war coming. The textile mills in the North have been buying all our cotton, but now they don’t want to meet the price we can get if we sell it to France or England. Many of the planters are shipping their cotton to England. The northern textile owners want to force the growers to sell to them at their reduced prices. The northern citizens will not back the forced sale of cotton. The textile owners are using the slave issue to inflame the people of the North into allowing the textile owners to force their prices on the souther
n planters. The critical issue of slavery is taking hold. The true cause of resentment is changing—from the price of cotton to the freeing of slaves. Many who write for periodicals and some prominent speakers are taking up the question. There’s a lady writer—her name is Harriet Beecher Stowe—has written a book called “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” that paints an ugly picture of the life of the slaves on the plantations. Some of the northerners are becoming emotional to the point of violence, and some evangelical preachers are sermonizing on the subject. Emotions are building on both sides, and it’s just a matter of time until it ignites into a conflict.”

  “Would it not be prudent for the planters to take the force out of the argument by freeing their slaves and hiring them as laborers for a wage?” Michael asked. “We do it that way at the hacienda and we operate at a profit. Everyone is served and everyone is happy.”

  “Yes,” said Grandfather, “that could possibly be done, and it has been discussed. Many of the planters are concerned. They fear that if the people who are now slaves were freed and allowed to roam freely around the countryside, because of their anger the plantation owners would not be able to maintain order. Many blacks with just cause harbor deep resentments. The option of freeing the slaves is not without the possibilities of violence. It is a complicated problem with no easy solutions. I think we planters are in for some serious problems.”

  “Have you talked to your workers to see how they feel about it?” Michael asked. “There must be some of them who would be willing to discuss the problems. Perhaps they could be made to understand that it is to their advantage to bring about a solution.”

  Grandfather replied, “Unfortunately, there are many planters who would not be willing to sit down and discuss anything with their slaves. I don’t dare talk to my slaves until I’m prepared to respond to their questions. I’ve overheard the slaves talking. They’re aware of the rising problems, and they’re afraid, also. They don’t dare discuss it openly for fear of being accused of inciting a revolt. That has been done in a place or two and the results have been dire for the slaves. No one has benefited from that approach, but we must find a solution, and we must do it soon.”