Stolter had begun to feel tough and mean in the cold weather and hard travel “What arch?”
“The rock arch. We’ll show you.” Eddie urged the stallion on up the trail. The water crashed into the rocks jutting from the river, spraying the trees. Half a mile along a single file trail they came out on a sandy cove with fallen trees.
Juan yelled, “Eddie! Look!” He pointed across the stream to the other bank. A dun horse with black stockings stood alongside a black horse with a crooked white blaze down its face. The third horse was a tall reddish tinted hammerhead roan. All three horses were wet and shivering.
Stolter walked his roan up next to the mustang. “They’ve been trying to get across, but the water is too deep and fast here.” Icksy whinnied and the hammerhead tossed his head and whinnied in response.
Juan said, “The river widens out up ahead. If they follow along with us, they might be able to get across up there.”
Eddie nodded. “I don’t want to leave them over there. One of them will get hurt. If we can get them across, we can take them with us or leave them to graze.”
At the end of the canyon wash there was a copse of alder and birch trees. The white trunks grew up straight. Around the bend in the river there was a couple acres of short grass. The horses waded into the river to drink.
It took half an hour to get through the slick trail along the river. Several times the roan lost its footing and started to slide towards the water. The rocky bank broadened and the water had slowed its rush.
“Mr. Nick, if you’ll take Chita and get a fire started, we’ll sit down and eat after we get the horses across.”
“How are you going to get them across? The water is too fast. I don’t want to have to come after you two.” Stolter sounded doubtful.
Juan shook his head. “We aren’t going over there. Icksy is going to get them. He’s a good swimmer and strong so he’ll walk with them to bring them over.”
“What?” Stolter had no idea what the boy had just said. How could the mustang know to go rescue those horses? Juan handed Chita to Stolter who lifted the little girl to the ground. A well behaved small girl, she started picking up small twigs and sticks. Stolter unsaddled the roan and piled up rocks to get a small fire started.
Juan then whistled to the herd and walked them down to the far end of the clearing were there was a grassy patch. He dismounted the mare and walked back to where Eddie had stopped the mustang. The two boys talked in low voices and pointed at the other horses and from thirty feet away Stolter had no idea what they could say to the mustang to get him to brave the cold river.
Forty five minutes later the mustang had used his body to shield the rushing water from the white blazed black horse coming across. It stepped onto the bank and went to join the herd in the grass. The boys took out two shirts from the packs and wiped down Icksy, rubbing his coat dry. After he went to graze, the boys washed up and brought out the pans to cook.
“The big hammerhead has the same brand that’s on the black horse. They came from the same place. The dun mare has something hurting on her back leg. There is no cut or wound, but she’s been hurt.” Juan shrugged.
Stolter nodded. “We’ll leave those two brands here. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m walking off with someone’s horse. This is going to be too long of a trip for a horse that is hurt.” Stolter watched the steam puff from the coffee pot and dumped in a couple spoonfuls of grounds.
“Eddie, what did you say to Icksy to get him to go into the river?” Stolter looked inquisitive.
Eddie shrugged and said, “Nothing much. We just asked him to go get the horses.”
“That’s all?” Stolter grinned.
Edie let out a breath of exasperation. “He’s a horse, Mr. Nick. He doesn’t understand a lot.” Stolter thought for a moment that the boys were making fun. Then he shook his head with a grin and poured the coffee.
###
Someone had built a broad lean-to out of the trees many years ago. Twenty feet deep, thirty feet broad with saddle stands on both ends to keep the equipment up out of the weather. Strong leather strips had been wound around the trees lashing them together as a shelter. Behind it was an old adobe walled in oven with a small iron grill.
Juan and Chita scavenged around and brought two armloads of twigs and brush and dropped them next to the oven. The children bumped each other and gestured towards the horseman.
Stolter scratched his four-day beard and watched the tops of the canyon walls glow in an orangy, reddish tint as the setting sun cast it last light on the rocks.
“Mr. Nick, you have that look on your face that you are thinking about something. What is it?” Eddie looked at him. Juan broke small sticks over his knee and glanced at Stolter from time to time as he built the fire.
These kids were observant. They didn’t just play around. Then he noticed Chita staring at him. “I had something interesting happen with Icksy on the way. I wanted to tell you about it and see what you thought.” Stolter put the saddle on the stand under the overhang.
Juan looked out at the horse herd grazing in the tall grass. “Icksy? What about him?”
“On the way to Tucson, we stopped under the Sellwood Bridge and met an older man. We sat for a while and drank his coffee. Chatted for a while. When it was time to go, Icksy walked over to him and stared at him.”
Chita spoke in a small voice, “What?”
“White man?” Eddie asked. Stolter nodded.
Juan said, “Icksy is a smart horse. He remembers people.” Stolter nodded again.
“Grant offered something in his hand to Icksy and the horse sniffed it. Then he took it in his mouth but I didn’t see him chewing on anything.”
“Chita said, “Icksy found someone he knew.”
“Grant? Leland Grant? They call him Landy?” Eddie grinned and nodded.
“Yes, you know him?” Stolter’s mouth hung open as he looked at Eddie with an incredulous look on his face.
“I think Uncle Victor knows him. Rio told us to watch out for him. If we got into trouble before we got to Aunt’s house, Uncle Victor said Landy would help us.” Juan nodded to Eddie.
“But Landy is too far east now. Be sure to tell Uncle about it when we get into Yuma.”
Stolter stopped for a moment and wiped off his face with the tattered bandanna. “But how does Icksy know Leland Grant? How does a wild Mexican mustang know one old traveling man out on the road?”
“Mr. Nick, Icksy gets around. A lot. It is what he does. He goes places. He meets people.” Juan gestured to the horizon. “Icksy has been up in Canada, down to the end of Baja Mexico, Texas, and New Orleans. He’s been places we haven’t been.”
Eddie stood up. “Somewhere along the road, he met Landy Grant. He remembered him. And what might be even more important to us, is that Landy remembered Icksy. You’d think all horses look alike, unless they are a paint horse. Their markings tell who they are, Mr. Nick.”
Something about this bothered Stolter but he could not put his finger on it. Grant had met Icksy somewhere on the road. Something had happened between that man and the mustang. Stolter would never know what it was.
Stolter shook his head and rubbed his face. Chita and Juan were warming up food in the oven. Stolter brought out the other steel tin of food and shared it with them. Stolter plunged his coffee pot into the river to fill it up and then set it on the fire to heat.
Juan made rolled up beef and bean tortillas with corn and chilies. The children chattered in Spanish to each other and laughed from time to time. They sat down on the front edge of the lean-to to eat dinner.
Chita eyes got wide and she looked up from her food. “Sugar. It was sugar.” She looked at Juan and Eddie who both nodded as they ate.
Eddie swallowed. “The man, Landy. He gave Icksy sugar. When you stopped to have coffee with him, did he offer sugar for the coffee?” Stolter remembered the little sugar pouch that Beulah had used.
“Yes, he did.” Stolter nodded. Chita giggled. J
uan and Eddie giggled.
Stolter looked at the fire and chewed his dinner. He was a right hungry man. He mused about the horse’s reaction to the man. Grant was one of those men who was more comfortable in a saddle than sitting on a sofa in a house. By the tone of the talk under the bridge, Stolter had gotten the impression that Grant had never lit in one place for too long. He wasn’t a drifter or a no-account bum. He just went his own way at his own speed. And somewhere out on the road the horse had met the man.
The children had hung their hammocks in between the trees behind the lean-to. From time to time Stolter could hear them laughing after they had climbed in to sleep. For the next hour, Stolter kept feeding small twigs and sticks into the fire to keep it going. He was churning something over in his mind trying to make sense of it and nothing would come out. Exhausted, he gave up and crawled into his bedroll against the wall in the lean-to.
Chapter 20
The next day had been uneventful until after five miles. The map showed a lake that they would have to go around, taking them eight miles out of their way or taking the horses onto two ferry trips at five dollars each trip. Gary and Southcott both had recommended taking the ferry for time’s sake. Half a day around the lake or pay the ferryman to get the horses across.
The Mexican children shook their heads. “We’ve never paid to take the horses on the ferry. We always ride around the lake. We aren’t in a hurry so there is no need to pay, Mr. Nick.”
Stolter and the children stood on the butte looking at the lake that stretched to the horizon. Nearby there were several tall, organ pipe cactus where birds lived and flitted around. The tiny flowers had white broad petals that curled with pale yellow centers. As he looked at the blooms and watched the birds he compared one hour on the ferry or eight hours of riding.
“I see what you mean.” Stolter shook his head.
Eddie pointed to the dirt path that lead into the trees on the north side. “If you want us to ride the ferry across the lake, we will, but we don’t want to. We can ride Icksy all the way around, but you’d have to wait for us on the other side.”
Stolter took in a deep breath. “When Griff went over the map with me, he said that the trail up and over Johnson Meyer Pass was rough and steep. It wasn’t a very good trail.”
Eddie frowned as he looked at Juan for a moment. “Mr. Nick, there is another trail around the lake. You don’t have to go up and over the pass to get around it.”
“What?” Stolter twisted around in the saddle to look at the children.
Juan said, “The Johnson Pass road is the main road that travelers take. I don’t know how to say it, but it is the white people road. Not our road. Ours follows the edge of the lake.”
“What? What are you talking about another road?” Stolter brought the roan over closer to the mustang and the children.
Juan pointed to the west end of the lake. “Do you see where the two hills meet at the end of the lake? There is a trail there, a dirt path that we take. It’s only wide enough for one horse at a time, and we have to be careful if we meet anyone else coming head on. Mr. Griff probably doesn’t know about this road because if he did, he would have put it on your map.”
Stolter rubbed his face. “All this time I’ve been worrying about how to get the horses up and over that pass. I’ve been worrying about what would happen if I lost them off the ferry. Okay, we’ll go that way. You’ll have to lead, though, because I don’t know the way.”
The children grinned and without another word, the mustang shuffled down the path headed for the lake, followed by the herd. Stolter followed at the end.
The trail led down along the water’s edge, then swung into the trees. For over an hour they walked single file amongst elm, oaks, and fir trees. Several times the yearlings tried to stop and nibble at grass along the trail. Stolter swatted them with his rope to get them moving again. Another hour went by as they returned out along the water. Up ahead, the kids shouted and pointed out to the water. A hawk was fishing the lake and grabbed a fish for its dinner. Stolter saw several deer drinking at the lake. A swarm of tiny bugs hovered over the surface if the lake making fish jump to get them.
It was an undisturbed beautiful wilderness for someone who had crossed over the bland desert. There was a broad, grassy meadow on the west side of the lake. The horses began grazing. Stolter looked at his watch. Two o’clock. The mustang had trotted to the far side of the pasture and he could see the children had dismounted. Icksy took about ten steps away and rolled in the grass. The children laughed watching the big horse kick his hooves in the air.
In the trees there was a built up wooden platform about fifteen feet square with a pole shed roof. Boughs from the fir trees had been piled in layers onto the roof the help shed the water. Stolter then saw the pattern of adobe walled ovens and grills. Eddie’s family didn’t have to find shelter along these trips. They had built them so they would never be without shelter on the road.
Stolter unsaddled the roan who trotted out to the grass to graze. When he smelled the burning wood, Stolter walked around to the oven. Chita had unwrapped the flat pan and Juan had started to cook food.
Just then Eddie came running up the path and around the side waving his arms. “There’s someone coming!”
Juan set the pan off to the side and the three kids ran out to the path and waited. Stolter stood behind Eddie and waited. From the trees, six kids came running, yelling and whooping. Eddie started laughing. “My crazy cousins.”
“What?” Stolter frowned again. For the next few minutes everyone hugged each other and kisses were given and hands were shaken.
Eddie introduced Stolter. “Mr. Nick, this is my cousin Alberto Zendejas and his wife, Antonia. These are their children, Bianca, Julietta, Nicholas, Fabian, Carlos and Omar.”
After the adults got settled in, Antonia and Juan started the cooking. Alberto and Stolter walked out to see the horses. Barrel chested with dark eyes, longer black hair, and a muscular build, Alberto Zendejas had a strong grip.
“Eddie told me you are headed to California.”
“Yes, I’m headed to my wife’s family ranch in Bradford. It’s called the Flint Hills Ranch.”
“Oh yes, I know where that is. That’s a small town. We have a friend that lives nearby. Papa LaCosta at Faraway Inn. When you get there, give him my regards, please.”
Stolter grinned. “I haven’t heard that name in many years. I remember him making a very good apple pie.”
Zendejas laughed. “Papa spends a lot of this time fishing. Tane, his granddaughter, now runs the Inn.” They heard a voice calling and looked back to the camp where someone was waving an arm at them.
Over the meal, Stolter learned that there was another pasture on the west side of the trees. The Zendejas horses grazed over there in solitude. Eddie, Juan, Zendejas and Stolter talked with enthusiasm about training horses.
Eddie asked Antonia about his aunt. “We came from there four days ago. She is doing much better but she should not be alone. I am glad you are going to see her.” She was a pretty woman with dark eyes with long black lashes.
Stolter asked Alberto how far they had traveled. “Our home is in Baja, Mexico. We have a beef cattle ranch that front up against the Pacific Ocean. Not too hot in the summer and it doesn’t get cold enough to snow so it’s nice in the winter. This is the time of year when we try to get out to see the family.”
Juan asked about a family member. “Yes, we took the train up to Tijuana and found out that your cousin Roberto was sent all the way to Philadelphia to go to school. He’s been back there for almost a year now. You probably wouldn’t recognize him.” They all laughed.
Alberto said, “From there we got on another train and went up to San Diego. We stopped at the Mission San Luis Rey to see Carlitos’ family. They have a ranch with beef and horses there. We only stayed a couple of days.”
“You would not believe how big Los Angeles has gotten in the last year. They are building everywhere. Hotels, restaur
ants, museums,” Antonia picked Chita up and set the small girl on her lap. She spread her arms out wide with a big smile.
Eddie said, “I see you have Soshee, Maxi, Pepito and Ximena. Where were they?”
Alberto took a drink of the coffee. “Soshee and Pepito were at Florencia. Ximena and Maxi were over at Crest.” Eddie turned to Stolter.
“Soshee, Maxi, Pepito and Ximena are the mustangs that Alberto’s family are riding.”
Eddie drew in a quick breath as he sat up straight. “Oh, now I remember what I wanted to ask you. Do you remember a stagecoach driver by the name of Mick Nissen?” Stolter sat up straight and looked at Alberto.
“Mick Nissen.” Alberto knitted his brows together and looked at Antonia who thought for a moment and then shook her head.
“No. It doesn’t sound like someone I know. We don’t take the stage very much so I might now know him.” Alberto shook his head. “If I hear anything about him, you want me to send word?”
Stolter thought for a moment. This was a longshot. Eddie translating, the horseman told the eighteen year old story again.
“Wait!” Antonia stood up and put Chita on her feet.
“The old man that lives on Del Mar. What is his name?” Antonia snapped her fingers with impatience.
“Alejandro? No. Arturo? No. I know who you mean, but I can’t think of his name.” Alberto slapped his own forehead making the children laugh.
Fabian said, “Angel.” They all shouted. Antonia hugged Fabian.
“Yes, Angel. Eddie, when you get to your aunt’s house, go over to Angel’s place and ask him if he remembers this Mick Nissen. Angel used to take the stagecoach everywhere. He was never home. If anybody will know, he will know.” She nodded.
Eddie leaned in and said, “Mr. Nick, if we are going to get to Berry Glen, we have to leave now. It will be dark when we get there if we don’t leave now.”
Stolter stood up and thanked Alberto and Antonia for their company. All the cousins kissed and hugged each other. As they were packing up the supplies, Stolter turned to Alberto.
Nick Stolter Page 19
