Apache Winds

by Danny Jewell

  The medicine man built a small fire in the center of the teepee. As the fire grew to its limits and then died out, the strangely painted man sang to the spirits, who then whispered into his ears what they had heard about Quo-Qui. At the end of his song, the medicine man looked at the troubled Quo-Qui and told him what the spirits in the fire had said.

  “There are those who seek to be great,” the old man declared, “but in doing so, they become small. I see in the ashes that you are small, but in time you will be great.”

  “How can I be great, Holy One?” Quo-Qui questioned in disbelief. “I cannot fly! I am not made to look like my brothers! I am troubled by my people’s laughter and, except for my parents, I am alone. There is a great weight in my heart. I do not understand.”

  “The Great Spirit guides your fate,” the old man told him. “But he cannot control your heart. You have courage. Let it serve you now! The ashes tell me that you have been chosen. Nothing can change that. Your destiny awaits the moon; do not fight it.”

  “I do not doubt my courage, Holy One,” replied Quo-Qui confidently. “I await my destiny. All I ask now is, have I dishonored myself? This I must know so that I may cleanse my spirit.”

  “Your fate is now in the wooded hills north of our camp,” the medicine man advised. “There, within the empty bellies of our brothers who cry out in the wind, lies your future. But do not seek it, for even now it approaches. You have not been dishonored, but will bring honor. If you are now alone, it is because on the day of trial you will be alone. Go my son. Allow your heart to remember that true courage is the greatest shield.”

  Days passed and the boy endured all the laughter which came to him. Quo-Qui’s parents were proud of their son who still walked tall through the camp. Soon a new moon rose and the day of trial arrived.

  Since the first celebration of the Choosing there had been other celebrations. Each was a ceremony to give thanks or to ask the Great Spirit for something. During the Eagle Dance in which the chosen were seen, the result was always the same. The other boys were magically changed into great eagles except for Quo-Qui. So discouraged did he become that he told the others that he would not join in any longer. No one argued otherwise. Quo-Qui’s spirit was in deep despair, even on the day when the chief sent all of his hunters on a five-day hunt for game.

  Left behind in the camp were the women, the children, and the aged who could not fend for themselves. The chosen boys of the Eagle were given the task of guarding the camp against intruders. All of them eagerly took their assigned positions throughout the camp. Yet when Quo-Qui asked the oldest boy where he should go to stand guard, he received only laughs and jeers and was told to go and hide with the women and children where his little feathers would not show his disgrace. Quo-Qui became very angry, but he said nothing as he turned and walked away. Behind him he could hear the others call him names. He felt completely alone.

  So loud was the growing laughter that few heard the frightful howl of starvation coming down from the nearby woodlands. It was the terrible cry of a great timber wolf. Joining this awful whine came the added growls of many other wolves, all of which sounded terribly close. Down in the camp, the people recognized the cry of the silver wolf and knew it meant they were searching for food. They also remembered that, when wolves went on the prowl, nothing short of death would keep them from their prey. The camp people grew horrified as certain destruction came closer and ever closer.

  Numbering fifty in all, the silver-gray forms with their black manes came charging out from the thicket. They looked lean and savage. Their blood-red eyes glittered in the noonday sun. The entire camp panicked and everyone scattered for the shelter of their tents. As fear gripped the people, the Eagle boys looked at the howling pack and saw their long, sharp teeth. For a moment, they were hypnotized by the fearful sight.

  Throughout the Ndee camp, the screams of frightened women and the wail of little children created a great din. Hearing it, the Eagle boys quickly gathered themselves to prepare a plan of defense. It was obvious that they were all that stood between the wolves and their people. Although the boys did not lack courage, they lacked a plan of action.

  “What shall we do?” asked one.

  “We must go for help!” suggested a second.

  “We will all be dead by the time it arrives!” shouted another.

  “We were given the task of defending the camp!” said the bravest of the boys. “It is clear, we must die to save our people.”

  “Our brother, the wolf, does not understand who we are,” announced the eldest of the group. “Therefore. we shall perform our sacred Eagle dance and change into our Eagle form, proving that we are the chosen of the Great Spirit. Then, they will be too frightened to do any harm!”

  “Yes!” encouraged another. “When they see us fly above them, they will become fearful and run away! Let’s hurry, because our campfire burns low!”

  All the boys agreed and were too busy to notice that Quo-Qui had joined in the dance as well. The chanting began while the murderous wolves were moving steadily into the camp. Once inside, the wolves immediately stopped. There before them was a strange sight. Instead of running for their lives, the boys had chosen to dance. Despite their hunger, the wolves waited, suspecting a trap. Then, when nothing happened, the wolves again bounded forward toward the group. All at once, the boys changed into eagles and shot up into the sky above them.

  However, instead of being impressed, the wolves only became annoyed that some of their prey had gotten away. They did not understand the dance and, what was more important, they were not frightened by the magical transformation. Ironically, the boys had not realized that once in the air, the eagles could do little against the wolves except to cry out in their high shrill voices and distract them with their claws. The people in the camp saw that Quo-Qui, the boy they had ridiculed, alone remained to save them. The wolves readied themselves to devour the remaining people hiding in their tents. Then, they noticed a curious looking little bird still dancing on the ground in front of them.

  Quo-Qui, who had changed into a bird, had not flown into the air. He remained and was still circling the fire with his dance. Round and round he went, creating such a distraction that the wolves decided he should be the first to die. Turning aside from the women and children, the great timber wolves regrouped and attacked the tiny bird in the center of the camp. That was what Quo-Qui was waiting for.

  Peering through the flaps in their tents, the frightened people saw the silver horde chasing the agile bird round and round the fire. With his little gray wings firmly outstretched, Quo-Qui kept himself just out of reach by shooting himself forward each time the wolves lunged at him. Finally, the tiny gray bird with the soft brown feathers turned away from the fire and headed away from the camp. The wolves, determined to catch him, went fast on his heels.

  Each time the leader and the rest of the pack thought they were just within reach, they opened their powerful jaws and sprang for him. But each time the pack attacked, the little bird turned to the right or to the left and glided along on the air to land a few yards ahead of the surprised predators. The wolves became furious and increased their speed, sure that they could catch the tiny form. Little did they realize that the clever bird had by this time led them miles away from the camp.

  At last, in one final desperate charge, the entire wolf pack formed into a wide semicircle and forced the streaking bird to smaller and smaller turns. Then, when they were sure that Quo-Qui could not turn, they all sprang forward in one massive leap, unaware that a sharp cliff lay ahead.

  As before, when the pack sprang toward him, the speedy bird shot forward into the air. Unknowingly, the entire group vaulted into a great open canyon. Flying out into the immense gorge, the timber wolves fell quickly to their death on the rocks below, while Quo-Qui shooting farther, eventually glided slowly and softly to the canyon floor on the same tiny wings that had changed him into th
e fastest little bird in the Southwest.

  The flying eagles, who had been following the chase, saw that their brother had been transformed into a magical bird that all men would forever after recognize as the Roadrunner.

  Today in memory of that event, the Apache look upon the story of the Roadrunner as a good example to pass on to their children. If one looks for greatness in size, one may never find it”.

  The drums died down and the shadows returned to the way they were leaving Billy and Zeke flabbergasted.

  Finally, Zeke turned to Billy and said “That almost makes me wish I could stay here for eternity”.

  Billy replied by saying “You have no idea how it made me feel, wishing the guys back home could see what I see.’’

  23

  A COLD WIND BLOWS

  The next morning brought a severe change in the weather and found the two of them doing their best to stay warm.

  Billy threw more wood on the fire and both men huddled as close to it as they could.

  They were talking about whether to wait it out or try to make it to shelter.

  Billy looked towards the trail in the pre lit dawn and saw something that made his hair stand on end.

  He looked at Zeke then pointed towards the trail and said “An evil spirit comes this way”.

  Zeke had heard the tales of those from Creole Country that there were evil creatures always looking to take one’s soul or haunt them to no end and what he saw scared the heck out of him.

  Billy called for Mangas and when the horse came close Billy asked for help to be rid of what seemed to be getting larger and larger with each step.

  Mangas just replied “You are on your own with this one” and walked away.

  As the creature got close the men put the fire between them and what now was on the edge of the clearing.

  Covered in snow and looking as wide as it was tall the creature spoke and shocked both men.

  “Hello; I hope you don’t mind sharing your fire with a worn out and cold old woman; do you?”

  Zeke’s senses came to him as the person they were facing dropped the large bags she was carrying and stepped even closer to the fire.

  He got up and went over to help whoever it was get settled and said “Excuse us for not being more hospitable; we thought you was some kind of evil spirit”

  Billy added “Or the Boogie Man”.

  She laughed and said “My name is Mary Fields and some call me ‘Stagecoach Mary”. My stagecoach broke down about five miles back and my horses done run off. I deliver the mail and that is what is in those two sacks”.

  Zeke was curious and he asked “What is a woman doing driving a stagecoach anyway”?

  The woman had a Buffalo Coat on and she reached underneath it and brought out a large and used cigar then put it between her teeth and started to talk.

  “I was born a slave in Hickman County Tennessee in Eighteen and Thirty-two and was freed along with all the others in Eighteen and Sixty-Five.

  I went to work for Judge Edmund Dunne and when his wife Josephine died in Eighteen and Eighty-Three in San-Antonio Florida I had to take the five children to their aunt, Mother Mary Amadeus in a convent in Ohio. I worked for her and when she was called upon to open a school for Native American girls in The Montana Territory I went along with her. The Native Americans called me “White Crow” because I acted like a white woman and was as black as a Crow. One school child wrote an essay and said I drank whiskey, smoked cigars, had a foul mouth and was a Republican which made me in her eyes a low, foul creature. Well it just so happens that I was able to outwork any man around and when the runt of a fool I worked with caught wind that I was making more money than he was, he got mad as hell and started complaining to anyone that would listen. I had had one too many at the saloon and went looking for him. Found him behind the nunnery and a heated conversation led to gunplay. I always keep a loaded .38 in my waistband and I unloaded on his sorry butt. I do mean that literally cause although many of the shots missed their mark and found their way into the Bishops freshly washed clothes; one ricocheted its way into his sorry buttocks. Fool got what he deserved and I got fired. Mother Amadeus helped me open a restaurant in Cascade. I wasn’t made for cooking and found myself giving away more than I sold to those in need. One year later at the age of sixty they had a contest to see who could hitch up the horses to a team the fastest. I won and with it came the job of the first mail carrier as a United States Postal Carrier. This brings me to here where I am looking for my team to get them hitched back up and my wagon fixed”.

  Billy and Zeke offered to help and Mary said that it was nice of them to do so and when Zeke passed a cup of coffee to her she pulled out a jug of whiskey and added to the mix then offered both men the same. They took it without hesitation. Billy was surprised to find the desire for more alcohol had diminished greatly since the joining of spirits with Zeke. He was staring at the cup in his hand when he had the feeling that someone was watching him.

  It was Zeke and he said; “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know. What I do know is that this stuff doesn’t have the hold on me that it once did”.

  Zeke smiled and said “Good; now that is one less thing to worry about on our journey”.

  Mary was watching with an intent look on her face and she said “What Journey?”

  Billy spoke up and said “We need to find out what is missing in the Apache Chief; Cochise’s life”.

  Mary said “Since the “Indian Removal Act” by President Jackson, the whole Indian Nation has been in turmoil. Chances of finding out anything having to do with any Indian Chief at this time will be difficult. Thomas Jefferson opposed any removal of Native Americans in the south”.

  How did you know of this? Billy asked.

  I was the only woman given the ability to enter and drink in the local saloon and you can learn a lot from a drunk traveling from back east. It is the only way we can get good news. They even beat the local paper sometimes in getting the word out”.

  They got up from the fire and help round up the team then set Mary on her way with a handshake and wave goodbye.

  24

  A WARRIORS REGRET

  They had helped Mary and with the morning almost gone mounted their horses and headed the way that she had come.

  They were wondering if they could make it through the frigid cold and soon they noticed that with each step the horses took, the weather changed as if someone had flipped a “fast forward” switch.

  Within minutes spring came into view and the two men shook off the cold they were feeling in their bones.

  In the blink of an eye they went from riding their horses to walking and their horses nowhere to be seen.

  They heard if before they saw it coming up from behind them. The clanking, creaking wagon pulled up beside them and came to a halt.

  On the seat of the old wagon sat an old man who had seen too many hours in the sun. His weathered and wrinkled face beneath a straw hat with a feather in it was outlined by a gray beard and tobacco stained teeth that only showed themselves after a long chaw and big spittle out the other side of the wagon.

  He said “My name is Patch and I wonder what brings two Apaches out to the middle of nowhere on this Daggle-Tail”.

  Both men were surprised that he was speaking in Athabaskan (Apache native language) and Billy answered by saying “We are trying to make it back to our homeland”.

  Zeke said “I am Black Buffalo and this is Kicking Bird”.

  Zeke started to step up at the old man’s request only to find Billy’s elbow jammed in his ribs.

  The old man laughed and said “Ladies first, I guess” and as Billy went past Zeke he whispered “Kicking Bird” and Zeke laughed.

  Patch worked the reigns and his team started forward.

  “I am from Nicodemus Kansas. Perhaps you heard of it, a town with no
thing but colored folks. He went on to speak of his childhood and how he missed his family and one day would like to return for a visit.

  It was early in the evening and they stopped for the night.

  As with all supply wagons of the day there was no shortage of supplies and foodstuffs. He told them his only rule was “No whiskey and No guns”.

  Patch made Chuck Wagon Stew and Coffee.

  Zeke searched his pockets in hope to find money and as he did Patch waved him off. Still he managed to find a two-dollar gold piece and he gave it to the old man and requested paper and candy.

  It was a surprise to the old man and he said “Hmmmmm. An educated Indian with a sweet tooth and he went to the wagon and brought back hard candy, licorice, several sheets of paper and a small bottle of ink.

  Zeke gave Billy most of the candy and then set the ink aside.

  Patch reached into his coat and handed him a pen and said “Doesn’t work too good without one of these”.

  Zeke asked Billy to tell them more stories of Cochise and Geronimo but just before he could speak Patch interrupted and said “This is not a good time to be caught on the open road. Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse are talking war. The govment done sent some young upstart General named Custer to put an end to any uprisings. The young fool has no idea as to what he is getting into. Tomorrow mornin I may be going south till this is all over with or maybe even home for a visit. If I was the two of you I would be careful as to who I speak with or anyone else for that matter. Trust nobody. There is still unrest over “The Sand Creek Massacre” some fifteen years ago. Shoot; it seems the gold miners back then meant more to the government than a bunch of peaceful Indians”.

  The fire had taken ahold of those gathered around it and Billy finally got his chance to speak.

  “Geronimo’s parents raised him according to Apache traditions and after his father died his mother took him to live with the Cheyenne. He married a woman named Alope from the Nedni-Chiricahua band of Apache when he was seventeen and she gave him three children. In March of Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-One a company of four hundred Mexican soldiers from Sonora led by Jose’ Maria Carrasco attacked the camp outside of Janos while the men were doing trading in town. Among those killed were his wife, children and mother which led him to hate all Mexicans for the rest of his life”.