“And being away from our own hogan and red rock canyons,” Gentle Woman added.
Up and down the Pecos River from Fort Sumner, the United States government had set aside forty square miles for an Indian reservation. Each Navajo family was expected to make some kind of shelter near the fort. The rest of the land would be used for farming and grazing. But there were no materials to build hogans.
“What are we going to live in?” Gentle Woman asked. “There’s no wood for hogans.”
“I saw some people coming from the fort with tents,” Kee said.
“Maybe we can get one,” Gentle Woman suggested and she and Kee left immediately to try. But when they got to the fort, all the worn out army tents had been given away. Some Navajos had gotten pieces of canvas, but for Kee’s family there was nothing.
The next morning soldiers came by giving each family a shovel.
“We can try digging a hole in the ground to make a hogan,” Wise One suggested.
Hasba laughed. “We can pretend we are prairie dogs.”
Kee looked at her in disgust. “Who wants to be a prairie dog?”
His anger helped him dig furiously for a few minutes. Then his mother and grandmother insisted he let them take turns digging. It was hard not having a father in the family. He had begun to believe that his father was dead. He tried to push the thought from his mind, but it kept returning. Surely his father would have found them by now if he were still alive.
When they were completely tired out from digging, the sandy sides of the hole began to cave in. Gentle Woman sighed, “It’s no use to dig deeper. But this hole will do if we can find something for a roof. Our blankets are all in rags.”
“If we had some poles or tree branches, we could cover them with brush,” Wise One said. “But we must have something to hold up the brush.”
“Hasba, let us see what we can find along the river bank.” Kee said.
Hasba tied Small Lamb’s rope around a rock so she could not follow. Gray Dog went with the children. Walking toward the fort, they passed many Navajos building makeshift shelters.
The children hunted along the river’s edge, picking up a few small tree branches. They watched some soldiers swimming in the river. One of the soldiers came out of the water toward them. Gray Dog growled as he placed himself between the soldier and the children. Kee recognized the soldier as the one who had saved his grandmother from the Rio Grande. He put his hand on Gray Dog’s head, speaking quietly to him. The dog stopped growling.
The shivering soldier picked up his heavy coat from the river bank and threw it around his shoulders. “How is the Tiny Grandmother?” he asked, making a sign for a small person.
Kee recognized that he was talking about his grandmother and his face lit up.
The soldier smiled back and motioned for them to follow him. Kee had to almost drag Hasba along as he followed the soldier.
Hasba had tears in her eyes. “Let us run back to Mother.”
“He is the one who saved Grandmother. He will not hurt us.”
When they came to a building where the soldier lived, the soldier put his hand on Kee’s shoulder and pointed to the ground where they stood.
“He wants us to wait here,” Kee told Hasba when the soldier went inside. Hasba wanted to run away, but Kee held onto her hand and said, “Wait.”
The soldier came back out carrying a large piece of canvas. Kee smiled and thanked him in Navajo. Once more he wished he knew the white man’s words for “thank you,” but he was sure the soldier understood.
As the children walked away, Kee looked back. The soldier was watching and raised his hand in a farewell gesture. Kee returned the gesture, and hurried toward the dugout.
Chapter Thirteen
Kee Meets Smoke
Held down by rocks, the canvas proved a good roof for the dugout. The next day Kee and Gentle Woman grubbed out weeds and brush to cover the canvas. Hasba helped Wise One gather grass from which her grandmother made rough mats to line the walls of the dugout. Now they had a place to sleep, with protection against the rains and strong winds that blew across the open plains.
Long Earrings and one of his friends walked by. They stopped to look at the shelter. Long Earrings told Wise One, “They are giving us a reservation—only ten miles along the river and four miles wide!”
Kee didn’t know what a mile was. There were no such words in Navajo. “Is that big?” he asked.
“Big? Ha! It would be enough for no more than five families to raise their crops and their sheep back in Navajoland. And they think we can grow enough food for all the Diné on it!”
Soon the men were ordered to use the shovels they had been given to dig irrigation ditches from the river to the fields that would be planted to raise food for the tribe.
Gray Dog carefully herded Small Lamb to join Eagle Feather’s little flock each day. “What a big herd of sheep we own,” Kee said with bitterness. “A herd of one.”
When the fields were ready for planting, Kee and Hasba spent many days with other children, helping to plant corn, wheat, beans, and pumpkins. The soldiers insisted everything be planted in rows. Kee could not understand why the white man always wanted things different from the Navajo way. They made a hole and planted seeds anywhere in the field.
By now most of the Indians were in rags. About the time the crops were planted, a shipment of bolts of material for clothing arrived at the fort. As soon as they were told it would be distributed, everyone hurried to the fort with the ration tickets. Kee went with his family. They were passing the officers’ quarters on the way to the store when Kee saw the wonderful gray horse tethered to the hitching rail. He ran to the horse. Admiring the animal from all directions, he wondered if the horse would allow him to touch it. He was stretching out his hand to pat the horse’s muzzle when someone said “Oh, so you like Smoke, too. He is the most beautiful horse at the fort.”
Kee whirled around, expecting to see a Navajo. He saw the Mexican who interpreted Navajo for the soldiers. Kee smiled. “So that is his name. It is a good one. His color looks like smoke. Will he let me pet him?”
“I think so. I have never tried. He belongs to Captain Harris.”
During Kee’s lifetime, his father Strong Man, had owned many horses. Kee had learned to ride almost as soon as he learned to walk. He had a gentle, confident way with animals, and they quickly learned to trust him. He patted Smoke’s neck, then slowly ran his small brown hands underneath the silky black mane. The horse twitched his ears and pointed them forward when Kee quietly spoke Navajo words of endearment to him.
“Smoke likes you, I think,” the Mexican said.
When Captain Harris came out of the officers’ quarters, Kee dropped his hands and backed away. Smoke stepped forward and nuzzled his shoulder wanting more attention. Captain Harris smiled at Kee, then began talking with the Mexican. The Mexican turned and told Kee, “He says he has been watching you through the window. He thinks you have a way with animals. He wants to know if you can ride. I told him all Navajo boys learn to ride very young.”
Captain Harris spoke again to the Mexican. Again, the Mexican turned to Kee. “He says he needs someone to take care of Smoke, someone to feed, water, groom and exercise the horse when he is too busy. He wants to know if you would like to do it. There might be extra rations if you do a good job.”
Kee could scarcely believe his ears. Imagine being with Smoke every day. It was the best thing that could happen, except, of course, to own such a horse and be free to ride him in Navajoland.
Captain Harris smiled down at Kee and talked to him. The Mexican translated. “He says he can see that you would like the job. He wants you to come to the parade grounds early tomorrow morning when there isn’t a mob around like tonight. He wants to be sure you can handle Smoke.”
As the captain walked back to his quarters, Kee put both arms around Smoke’s neck, whispering, “You and I will be the best of friends, my beauty.”
Happiness filled the tiny
, dugout hogan that night. Wise One had received blanket strips large enough to make Gentle Woman and herself new dresses. Gentle Woman would make Hasba a new dress and Kee some trousers from the flowered calico.
Kee was not interested in woman-talk about new clothes. All he wanted was for morning to hurry and come so he could ride Smoke.
Chapter Fourteen
School Begins
Captain Harris had only to see Kee astride Smoke to know the boy could handle the horse. Kee soon began spending a good part of each day at the stables and horse corral. His happiest days were when he was told to take Smoke for a run.
Sometimes Kee was given a small bucket of milk to take to the dugout. His family would rather have been drinking goat milk from their own herd in Navajoland, but the cow’s milk helped to stretch their scanty rations and they were grateful for it.
When Kee was not busy with the horse, he went to the fields to try to help the men plant the crops. Since he had no father he felt that it was his duty to try to do the job of a man as well as he could.
It was not many days before he came back to the dugout and reported that the corn was up and growing. By the middle of summer it had tasseled and the family’s mouths watered as they talked of the fresh roasted corn they would soon enjoy. But before the ears were half mature, corn worms destroyed most of the crop. Then hail storms ruined most of the wheat. The Navajos shared what crops there were, but there was little to store away for winter use.
Gentle Woman paced back and forth, shaking her head, saying, “What will we do? We will all starve before spring.”
“We will live somehow,” Wise One assured her. “The Diné always have. Perhaps Captain Harris can give Kee some extra rations.”
But Kee told them, “Even the soldiers are getting short on food. They say they have sent word to a far-away place called St. Louis for more supplies, but it is a long, long, hard journey for the wagons. It may be the middle of the winter before they arrive, even if the snows are not deep this year.”
Officers at the fort divided the tribe into twelve groups. They chose twelve Navajo headmen as leaders of the groups. Each headman was asked to encourage his band to build an adobe village. But adobe houses were the way of the Pueblo Indians, not the Navajo. Besides, this land was not good for them. They could not feed themselves from it. Why should they build a village that would never become home? The villages were never started.
Indian men had been set to work finishing an adobe building at the fort. Now that it was completed, they were told it would be used for a school for Navajo children. Young priests were coming from Santa Fe to teach them to speak the white man’s language. The headmen were asked to encourage Navajo parents to allow their children to get an education.
Strong Man’s family was under the leadership of Ganado Mucho, “many cattle.” He was one of the few Navajos who had a big herd and was able to bring most of it with him to Fort Sumner. At times he even sold animals to the soldiers for food. Gentle Woman shook her head when Kee told her this. “That is not the way of the Diné. He should share with his own people, not deal with the enemy.”
“People do what they have to do to survive,” Wise One said. “Some of them no longer keep the Indian ways.”
Ganado Mucho went from one miserable shelter to another, talking about the school. When he reached Strong Man’s family, they were sitting on the ground near their supper fire, dipping into a pot of mutton stew. Wise One invited him to join them.
Kee listened carefully as the headman talked about the school to Gentle Woman. “It will be a great help to the tribe if some of our boys will learn the white man’s language. Life is so much easier if you understand what people are saying.”
A worried expression crossed Gentle Woman’s face. “But is it safe for our children to be shut up with strange, white men all day? What do you think, Kee?”
Kee swelled with pride. His mother had asked his opinion as she would have asked his father had he been there. Although he felt a little afraid about the school, he said, “My mother, we will be as safe there as anywhere else at this fort. I would like to learn the white man’s words so I can know what soldiers say when I am working at the stables.”
Hasba ran to her grandmother, “I do not want to go to school,” she said.
Wise One drew the little girl down to her lap. “You don’t have to go to school, I think. You can instead learn to cook at the hogan fire and herd sheep. And learn to card wool and weave it, if ever we can have sheep again and poles to make a loom. Kee can teach you the white man’s language.”
Ganado Mucho smiled. “That reminds me. At a meeting of the head men and the fort officers, we spoke about getting poles for looms so warm clothing and blankets can be woven before the worst part of winter arrives. The army will send wagons to the mountains for poles and needed firewood.”
Gentle Woman turned to Ganado Mucho. “Kee will go to the school. I will go with him until I see that it is safe.”
Ganado Mucho nodded. “As many mothers as children will be there the first day, I think.”
Picking up a tin plate of discarded mutton bones, Kee carried it to the back of the dugout where Gray Dog waited patiently for his supper. A shadow fell across the ground as Kee gave the bones to Gray Dog. He looked up to see Ganado Mucho smiling down at him. “Kee, I am happy you want to learn the white man’s language. Many of our boys will not try because of their hatred for the white man. It is true I acquired my big herd of cattle by raiding, but those days are over. We will never survive as a tribe unless we learn to live in peace with the white man, for he is here to stay.”
On the morning school began, Gentle Woman and Kee joined the large group of boys and mothers sitting on the ground in front of the adobe school building. A tall priest in a long black gown came out with the interpreter to tell the children to come into the classroom. Mothers crowded forward with the children, but were told to wait outside.
Kee felt a small sickness in his stomach as he walked into the classroom, but he was glad he did not give way to tears, as some of the younger boys did.
The children sat close together on long benches. The teacher held up white cards with black marks on them. He told them the white man’s words for the marks. Then the interpreter told them Navajo words for the marks. The priest had the interpreter tell them, “I will teach you the white man’s language. You will teach me the Navajo language. We will both learn.”
School lasted only a short time that first day. The children, not used to being confined, laughed and shouted as they tumbled out into fresh air and sunshine, joining mothers who were now able to smile again.
Hasba ran to meet Kee and Gentle Woman when she saw them approaching the dugout. “Say a little of the white man’s language for me,” she shouted to her brother.
Kee laughed. “It is not that easy. Tomorrow I will bring you a white man’s word.”
Chapter Fifteen
Weaving Brings Happiness
The promised poles arrived at the fort. Ganado Mucho sent Navajo men to help Strong Man’s family build a loom. They put poles in the ground to make a shelter where the women could weave. Kee and Hasba gathered weeds, brush, and tree branches to cover the shelter.
Gentle Woman and Wise One were given a small amount of wool at the supply warehouse. The towcards and slender stick spindle Wise One carried on the long walk were once again put to use. Hasba was delighted to hold towcards again. She had begun to learn carding before leaving the hogan on the mesa.
The spindle danced under Wise One’s small, strong hands. Kee marveled at the swiftness of her fingers as she rapidly spun the wool into twisted yarn. He waited anxiously for her to burst into song as she always had when spinning at the hogan on the mesa. She remained silent. The dancing spindle caused him to recall the sings in Navajoland. He wondered if the Diné would ever again know such happiness.
Here in this alien land beyond the sacred mountains, the spirits had deserted them. There was no use in holding cere
monies for the sick. Besides, who could provide food for the great feasts to follow each day’s ceremony? Here no one had enough to eat, so how could anyone invite friends or relatives to share with them? He could almost hear the voices of the singers chanting, chanting, chanting. He could hear drums. He could see dancers and smell good food cooking on campfires.
His mother’s voice brought Kee back to the present. “You and Hasba go to the river and hunt some tree bark and roots that might darken the wool. I also need a bucket of water to heat the dye.”
The family worked together until warm blanket dresses had been made for the women and Hasba. A blanket was made for Kee to wear around his shoulders.
Strong Man’s family was lucky to have the warm clothing. Snow and sleet blew early across the open plains that first winter at the fort. Because of the crop failure, rations had to be cut. Sickness spread among the Navajos. Unhappiness at being so far from their beloved homeland caused old ones to give up in despair. Many died.
Early each morning, Kee lifted the corner of the canvas over the dugout and climbed out. Whether snow, rain, sleet, wind, or sunshine met him, he trudged to the fort. His one happiness was taking care of Smoke. His fondness for the horse grew each day.
Only a small number of boys faithfully attended school now that winter had come. For Kee, the hours passed quickly. After school, he ran errands for Captain Harris. With great patience, the captain explained what he wanted done. This extra contact with white people improved Kee’s English. Captain Harris talked to Kee about his own son, Jeff. Kee soon understood that the boy lived with his mother in the place where the wagons came from with the supplies. It was many days’ journey by ox team from the fort. Kee understood it had been many moons since the captain had seen Jeff. “He will be about the same age and size as you are, Kee,” Captain Harris said. “He writes me letters and tells me about his school and his friends. I miss him very much.”
Navajo Long Walk Page 5
