Kee was about to say, “I do not want to learn.” Then the memory of the horrible day he forded the Rio Grande flashed through his mind. Had he been able to swim he might have saved Small Burro for his grandmother. “You will show me how to swim. We will help each other.”
“It’s a bargain, Kee, and we’ll have fun doing it.”
While Jeff’s many scratches were healing, Kee found a place on the riverbank behind a growth of salt cedar where he could practice wading without being seen. He shuddered with fear each time he tried, even in water that came only to his knees. He persisted until he could force himself to wade in to his waist. The first day Jeff was able to go in the river, Kee mustered up enough courage to get wet all over. In a few days, Jeff had him swimming clumsily, then with more ease. Soon, Kee showed such enthusiasm he was able to coax a few other Navajo boys to take advantage of Jeff’s lessons.
As Kee was on his way to the stables one morning he heard galloping hoofs behind him. He whirled around to see Ganado Mucho astride his big, black horse. The Navajo headman reined in beside Kee. “I stopped at your hogan to find you. Kee, our Comanche enemies are making more and more raids upon our horses and cattle and sheep. So we need more men and boys to help keep the animals closer to the fort. I know you are a good horseman. I have seen you on the captain’s horse. Will you have time with your school and work at the stables to help bring some of the animals in each day before sun-bearer leaves the sky?”
Kee’s eyes shone. He was proud to be asked to do a man’s work. “I do not have to work at the stables. I just like to be with Smoke. I have taught the captain’s son to ride and will show him how to take care of Smoke. But what can I ride to bring in the animals?”
“You can ride Little Mare. She is one of my horses I keep staked near my hogan. Do you know which one I mean?” Ganado Mucho asked.
Kee answered, “Yes, I know her.” But he thought, “Ugh, that ugly little brown beast with the crooked white stripes down one side of her face.”
Ganado Mucho must have noticed the boy’s disappointment. He said, “I know Little Mare is not large and handsome like Smoke, but she is good with cattle.”
Kee managed a half smile. “She is a horse so I will like her.”
At first Kee compared everything about Little Mare with his ideal, Smoke. She was ugly; he was the most beautiful horse in existence. She had stubby legs and a rough gait; he had long graceful legs and the smoothest gait of any horse he had ever seen. But after riding Little Mare for several days, he began to admire her wisdom. She seemed able to outguess ornery animals and she soon had Kee convinced that she could have rounded them up by herself, she was that smart.
He began to look out for Little Mare’s welfare. When work was finished he took her to the stables where he could find her a little hay. He improved her coat by grooming her with a brush and a currycomb. She kept one brown ear pointed forward and her head turned in the direction Kee was working on her. He talked softly to her as he worked. Before leaving her at night, he staked her with a long rope near the river where she could find something to eat.
One afternoon as Kee approached Little Mare to begin work, she raised her head and gave a whinny of delight. Kee ran to the horse, put his arms around her neck, and laid his face against hers. “That’s the nicest greeting I have ever had. Smoke has never done that for me.” The whinny became a daily greeting.
Now whenever Kee had time, he and Jeff took long rides together, he on Little Mare and Jeff on Smoke. Although Kee was sure he would never ride like a Navajo, Jeff was becoming a fair horseman and loved to ride. And for Kee, Little Mare was the finest of all horses.
Chapter Nineteen
A Big Surprise
One morning at the end of May, not only the bugle but the fort cannon shattered the quiet m dawn. Kee rolled from under his sheepskin, pulling on his shirt as he ran in the direction of the fort. Along the way, Navajos were climbing out of dugouts, running from brush shelters or rolling out from under ragged blankets to hurry toward the fort. All had expressions of wonder on their faces.
Kee saw Jeff coming on Smoke. As soon as the horse was close enough, the white boy told Kee, “General Sherman and other officers came late last night. The cannon firing was a salute to them. They have come to talk about a peace treaty. Barboncito and Ganado Mucho and some of your other headmen are also at the fort. Hop astride. We can go sit underneath the window outside the council room and maybe hear what some of them say. But you’ll have to tell me what the Navajos say.”
Happiness surged through Kee. “There will be an interpreter, or how could the general and other chiefs understand each other?”
Hundreds of Navajos from all directions were converging on the parade grounds. Kee tethered Smoke to the hitching rail. The boys ran around to the back of the officers’ quarters, along the narrow, wooden porch to the window of the council room, and squatted down to listen.
Kee whispered, “Barboncito is begging General Sherman to look at the burrows that are our homes. He wants the general to taste the nasty, bitter water of the Pecos. He asks him to watch the few sheep we have left trying to find a blade of grass in this bare land. He says this land does not like us, and neither does the water.”
Kee’s eyes shone with love when he heard the voice of Ganado Mucho pleading, “Let us go back where we can build hogans and live as men, not animals. We will live in peace. Only let us go home.”
The long talks lasted three days. On June 1, 1868, a peace treaty was signed between the United States of America and the Navajo, allowing the Navajos to return to their home territory, that would now become their reservation.
To Kee, the days and nights of waiting to start their journey seemed to last forever. At last, army wagons were filled with provisions. The horses and sheep that had survived were rounded up by the Navajos who owned them. The Diné, so sad and silent during the four long years of captivity, began to talk and laugh and sing once more.
Excitement kept Kee awake most of the night before their departure. Many times he climbed the dugout ladder to lift a corner of the canvas. Each time Wise One would ask, “Is sun-bearer in the sky yet?” Kee smiled to know his grandmother was as anxious as he was to begin the long walk again.
At dawn, groups of Navajos began passing the dugout, ready to start when the wagons pulled out. Kee wanted to take Wise One to the wagons and find her a place to ride. “No,” she said. “We will walk slowly because Hasba’s three sheep must eat. I can keep up with you.”
Kee wished to leave his white friend a token of friendship. When he told this wish to Gentle Woman, she insisted he give Jeff the only blanket she had been able to weave for themselves. “But mother, our others are nothing but rags. You will need the new one on the journey home.”
“To show you are a friend to the white boy is a greater need.” Gentle Woman replied.
Carrying the blanket, Kee hurried toward the fort. He had so hated being a prisoner, it was only since the signing of the treaty he had thought how much he would miss Smoke and Jeff. It was going to be hard to say goodbye.
At the stables, Kee went inside Smoke’s stall. Tossing the blanket he was carrying over the side of the stall, he rubbed Smoke’s muzzle saying, “This is the last time I will pet you, my beauty.”
A voice behind him shouted, “Kee, I’m glad you’re here. I was just going over to your place to say goodbye.”
Kee pulled the blanket down and pushed it at Jeff while patting Smoke’s neck. “Here is small blanket my mother made for you to take to your mother.”
Jeff’s face lit up. “Kee, that’s wonderful. My mother never had an Indian blanket in her whole life. Now don’t forget I’m going to be an explorer and I’ll come to visit you someday.”
“Will you bring Smoke?”
“You bet I will, if we still have him. Then you and I will ride together in the Navajoland you talk so much about.”
Giving Smoke one last pat, Kee managed to say, “It’s a bargain, Jeff.” The
n he dashed out of the stable.
Knowing he would be needed to help carry family bundles, Kee hurried toward the dugout, lost in thought. Suddenly a horse nickered behind him. He knew that happy sound. Whirling around, he faced Ganado Mucho riding his black horse with Little Mare on a lead rope.
Kee rushed to the little horse. “Do you want me to help drive the cattle on the way back?”
The headman shook his head. “No, it is more important that you help your family, since you are the only boy.”
Kee knew that was true but he was sorry. He would have liked to ride the mare on the long march.
“Get up on Little Mare,” Ganado Mucho said. “You can take her to your hogan and I will go back to my animals.”
“Why should I take Little Mare to our hogan?”
“So Wise One can ride her. Your grandmother is too old to walk so far. And you can take care of Little Mare because now she is yours to keep always.”
Kee’s mouth flew open but no words came.
Ganado Mucho laughed, then said, “Do not look so surprised. You have earned the horse for the work you have done for me. I know she will be happy with you for I have watched you two together.”
Through tear-filled eyes, Kee looked at his little horse. The first one that was truly all his own. He wondered how he could ever have thought she was ugly. She was so beautiful and so intelligent.
Chapter Twenty
Homeward Bound
The Diné laughed and sang as they trudged along, or rode in wagons or on horses. Many wore old, blue army coats. Some women had dresses made of the white man’s bright calico. Some men had trousers of the same material. Blue-coated cavalry men rode as escorts to the company for protection against other Indian tribes, and to keep the Navajos moving until they reached Fort Wingate.
The first day’s march was long. Dust caked on sweating bodies. Yet when they camped for the night Kee thought his grandmother looked younger than she had since coming to Bosque Redondo. She helped Gentle Woman prepare the meager supper. The only water they had was what they carried in their water jars, but they used a little to wash the caked dust from their faces. “It is good to be going home,” Wise One said. “We have lived four years in that evil place. Lived on promises made by the white man that they would give us hogans and sheep. Now again they promise us sheep and goats to take the place of those Kit Carson’s soldiers killed. What a happy thing it will be if it comes true. But we must make plans to work hard and take care of ourselves with our own efforts as we did before.”
Kee wanted to say, “Before, we had a father to help us.” But he kept silent. He wondered if the others thought of his father as often as he did.
He looked forward to crossing the Rio Grande. Now that he could swim he could help Hasba and his mother and grandmother. When he finally stood on the river-bank, he laughed and laughed. Being July, the river had long since carried away the spring run-off. Only in the center was there a narrow current of water to swim. The rest was shallow enough to wade. The Navajo waded joyfully in to wash their tired dirt-caked bodies. They drank the muddy water. It tasted sweeter than the bitter water of their prison camp.
Grandmother ate only a little of her share of bread and beans that night. Kee noticed her eyes glistened with moisture. Gentle Woman put her arm around Wise One’s shoulder, though she said nothing. Then Kee remembered the sadness of the first crossing when Wise One’s beloved Small Burro was washed downstream.
Summer evenings were long. After eating, Kee decided to hunt for a rabbit. A change of food might make his grandmother feel better. He called Gray Dog. Though the animal was getting old, and was tired after the long day’s walk, Gray Dog seemed as happy as Kee to go away from the noise, dust, smoke, and crowds of the camp. No rabbits were hiding in the gullies they searched.
When shadows began to lengthen, Kee turned back toward camp. The first thing he saw was a prairie dog, sitting on its haunches a short distance away. Gray Dog saw it too. Though the prairie dog was swift in running toward its hole, Gray Dog was swifter. He caught and killed the little animal. Bringing it to Kee, he dropped it at his feet. Kee patted the dog. “You are a good one. I know you are hungry, yet you give your catch to me. This will make grandmother happy. She has not tasted prairie dog since she left Navajoland.”
They hurried back to camp. Dropping the prairie dog in Wise One’s lap, Kee said, “Gray Dog brings you this.”
Wise One smiled, though tears still shone in her eyes.
Gentle Woman skinned and cooked the animal. Small as it was, Wise One insisted everyone in the family must have a taste. Gray Dog chewed the bones.
The way home led again past Mt. Taylor, the sacred southern mountain. Now, every night when the Diné made camp, some of them found rabbits or prairie dogs to help stretch the short rations issued by the army. “We are once more within the circle of the sacred mountains,” Wise One told them. “The spirits remember us.”
When a slight red coloring appeared in the cliffs along the route, the Navajos knew they were at last nearing home. Once more they reached Bear Spring. They saw the American flag flying over nearby Fort Wingate and were told to make camp for a long stay. Their reservation was to begin just beyond the fort, but the boundaries had not yet been set, so they were to stay at Fort Wingate for a while.
The blue-coats went back to Fort Sumner. The Navajos were no longer prisoners of war.
“Now that we are supposed to be free, why do we stay here?” Hasba asked her mother. “Why can we not go to our hogan on the mesa? I want to take my sheep where there is a corral and more food for them.”
“Try to be patient, Little One,” Her mother replied. “The white man has many things to decide for us.” She sighed. “Things will never be the same as before we went to Bosque Redondo.”
Waiting for the free life to begin was hard. So many people and animals were crowded together, all of them wishing for the silence of vast space. Often the oxcarts bringing rations from Albuquerque were late. The Diné were hungry most of the time. They gathered seeds, roots, and herbs. They hunted rats, rabbits, and prairie dogs for food. When riding away from camp on Little Mare, Kee was sometimes tempted to take off on his own. He knew several families had sneaked away, and the soldiers from Fort Wingate made no attempt to bring them back. They were no doubt glad to be rid of them. Kee felt sure he could find his way to Fort Defiance and from there to the mesa hogan. But he also knew his mother and grandmother and sister looked upon him as the man of the family. He could not disappoint them by leaving them behind.
Chapter Twenty-one
Back to the Mesa
The Navajos moved on before the first snow fell. A few days later, they looked again on the log and adobe buildings, mud pig pens, and sheep corrals of Fort Defiance.
The Diné could not feast their eyes enough on the hills covered with juniper and pine trees, nor breathe enough pine-scented air. Strong Man’s family found their hole in the side of the wash still there. All the time they were unloading Little Mare and unpacking their bundles, Kee complained. “My mother, why do we not go on? We will be allowed to go anywhere now. We can be at our hogan in less than two days’ journey.”
“I know, my son, but we do not know what we will find there. We have no food. With winter already upon us we cannot find any. How can we live on the mesa?”
“Let me ride Little Mare to our hogan. I will see how things are there and come back for the rest of you.”
“No, my son, you are too young to undertake such a journey alone.”
Wise One then said, “Let us all rest here until the first ration day. When we receive food for the week, let us all travel to see our hogan. We can return before the next ration day.”
“Oh Mother, would you do that?” Kee asked with excitement in his voice.
Gentle Woman hugged the little old grandmother. “It is easy to see why you were given the name Wise One. We will go.”
Ration day arrived. The Diné were not frightened by the hig
h-walled corral that had been built at Fort Defiance. They crowded in, laughing and talking.
Ganado Mucho, standing on top of the corral wall, waved to Kee as he walked through the gate. Then he began to talk to all Navajos in a loud voice. “My kinsmen, remember we have made a promise to keep the peace. No stealing. No killing. You must all work. Come for your rations each week. In the spring, the government will give each Navajo a few sheep and goats to start your herds once more. A school will be started here at the fort as the white men promised in the treaty. Those of you who want your children to have an education, send them to the school. Now, go home and live in peace.”
The next morning, when the first streaks of light were showing in the winter sky, Strong Man’s family was already at the top of the hill leading out of the valley. They looked back down the hill. “I hope we never come back to this place,” Hasba said. “I hate it.”
“I could come alone on Little Mare for our rations if Mother would let me.” Kee told them.
Gentle Woman patted Kee’s shoulder. “My son, you are too anxious to grow up.”
Little Mare was so loaded with the family’s belongings and rations there was no room for Wise One to ride. Gentle Woman insisted on stopping often. She said it was to let the sheep graze in peace, but she kept watching that Wise One did not get overtired. Kee was unhappy when they stopped to camp. He was impatient to cover more ground so they would arrive at the hogan early the next day.
Snow had fallen a few days before. In the warmth of the sun it had melted from the mesa except under trees. Kee went to a pine tree to get a bucket of snow to melt, so Gentle Woman could cook some of the beef they had received. Under the snow, he found a few cones still filled with nuts. “Piñon nuts,” he shouted.
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