His face was burnt dark and there was deep cracks and wrinkles showing from behind a fluffy white mustache that was as big as he was little. What with all the years and wrinkles and snowy hair, though, he stood just as straight as if he was tied tight against a post stuck in the ground.
There wasn't a way that anyone could tell if he was mad at us, not from his expression. As close as I could tell he didn't have any expression.
"I may help you, please?" he asked. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but I couldn't tell what it was. His eyes were black, I noticed then.
Jesus didn't say anything at first. I swallowed hard and then gave up and nodded my head. I mean, you could tell that this old man was muy hombre, as the Mexicans say—much man.
"I may help you?" he asked again.
Jesus got his tongue back then. He seemed as embarrassed as me. "My cousin, Ramon Nunez, he told us to come here an' talk to Senor Alfredo Valdez. We need some horses. Fifty, sixty head. Ramon said Senor Valdez has the best horses anywhere around here."
The old man thought about that some, then he nodded one time, slow like he had thought over every horse and horse ranch around and decided that Valdez did have the best to be found. "That is so," he said. "And this is the place you want."
The old fellow took his time then looking us over from top to bottom. In truth I'd have to say that he wasn't seeing much to inspire confidence, for if there was one thing we did not look like, Jesus and me, it was a pair of stock buyers with the savvy and the cash to strike a bargain. Not even for the worst, scrubbiest animals around, much less for the best there was.
"It ain't for us," I told him. "We come down here for Mister Sam Silas up to Dog Town." I hoped that would make him feel better about us. Especially since from the way he looked, I had got the idea he had to be someone with some say-so around the place. Either Valdez himself or maybe Valdez's papa. And, for a change, I turned out to be right.
"I am Alfredo Valdez," he said, "and I have heard about Senor Silas. These are good things I have heard about him. You come in and we will talk some more."
Senor Valdez led us inside the ranch house and straight on into that big, beautiful room we'd been looking at before. From the other side of the window it was even grander than we had seen before.
There was candles nearly everywhere we looked, some even stuck into wood doodads on the walls, and there was a couple of real lamps that had gold-looking designs worked all around them and glass pieces wrapped around the wicks. You could tell that even at night he could have it just as bright as he wanted.
I would of loved to of walked on the rugs we'd spotted before, just to see what it felt like, but my shoes was awful dirty so I stayed clear of the rugs. I was ahead of Jesus, and when I walked around the rugs he did too, figuring he'd better not mess them up either. Valdez just walked right across them like they wasn't there.
Valdez might not of paid it any mind, but I couldn't help lookin' around at all the things in that room. I had always figured Mister Sam Silas's house was pretty elegant with its wood floors and rag rugs and wax candles, but this old Mexican's place was more than I had ever heard of even. And I saw Jesus peering about the same as me in spite of the way he took on sometimes about having been places and seen things that I hadn't.
Valdez didn't say anything to us at first, and nothing showed on his face exactly, but I did catch that same little flicker down inside his eyes again like as if he was laughing to himself without letting us see. Still, it wasn't like he was laughing at us to make fun of us, more like he was getting a kick out of showing off for us, so I took no offense. I had to figure he had aplenty to be proud of in that hacienda of his.
He let us look at it a while more, then he motioned for us to set down in a couple of carved wood chairs. He settled in a big one with thick, leather pillows on it and said, "Now, boys, you have come to talk with me about the horses. All right... I will talk of business with your fine Senor Silas."
Valdez glanced over at me with a concerned look. "I beg for you to forgive me, please. My English is not so good, and for the business it is better I should use my own words, yes?"
"Sure," I said. "Jesus knows more'n me about all this. I just come along to help drive the horses. That is, if you're willing to swap."
He cocked an eyebrow at that. Couldn't understand what "swap" meant, I guessed. I could see his point about wanting to talk to Jesus about it in Spanish.
Jesus grinned and cut loose with a bunch of Mex words, and after a while, Senor Valdez said something, but slower and softer. They kept on and pretty soon Jesus was waving his hands around and Senor Valdez was talking louder and louder. This went on quite awhile.
After a great big lunch of the best Mex food I ever put a tooth to, Jesus handed over Mister Sam Silas's bills of sale for the fifty head of horses we was swapping, and Senor Valdez had a couple of his vaqueros ride up the river to fetch back the forty head we was to take in trade.
"It'll work out good for everybody," Jesus told me. I guess he had seen me shake my head some when I heard we'd only be taking forty horses down river. "Senor Valdez, he will get more money when he sells horses this year, and Senor Sam will have the fresh horses for us to bring in cows so he can make more money this year too."
It made some sense, I guess, but I wasn't used to the idea of having stock enough not to worry about losing some, even if horses were real cheap right then. There wasn't so many of them that cash buyers couldn't be found, like it was with cattle, but even up to San Antonio where the rich eastern buyers came for horses a mustang would go for maybe fifteen dollars and an American horse for about twenty-five—more if it was a special good one.
Anyway, whether Mister Sam Silas liked it or not, we'd done what we came to Fort Ewell to do. The horses were brought up into the big holding pen—nice stuff most of them and not but four or five years old. Senor Valdez loaned us a couple of saddles to get back to Ramon's place with, said we could leave them at Mr. Stuart's store to be picked up later, so we didn't wait around. We each of us picked out a likely looking animal to ride back on, and as soon as they'd pitched enough to work the kinks out of their bones we moved the bunch out of the pen and on down the river.
"It sure feels fine to be up on a horse again," I hollered over to Jesus when we had them strung out.
He grinned back at me and wheeled his horse around in a little circle, playful-like. "Seems like it's been a month," he said and pulled the horse around in another circle going the other way.
Him cutting up like that made some of the other horses nervous, and for a few minutes, there, we had to pay attention to what we was doing, for if those young broncs took a notion to run, the two of us'd have us a time getting them stopped and quiet. And worse, if a bunch of horses takes off on a run one time they're spoiled and will do it again and again.
The way we was handling them was for Jesus to ride on one side of them to keep them strung out with the river on the left and him there on the right. I came along behind to keep them moving and not let them string out so far apart that one might slip off past Jesus.
Once we got to minding what we was doing, we had no troubles taking them on down to Ramon's place. We got there late in the afternoon and put about half the horses into his corral, but since it wasn't big enough to hold any forty head, me and Jesus and Ramon strung up a rope corral to pen the rest of them overnight.
When we was done, it was getting sort of late, so we slung Senor Valdez's saddles over a rail at Ramon's place instead of carrying them on down to the store right away.
"Fine cousin of mine, you are so close to my heart I could feel no more for you if you were my own mother's son," Jesus told Ramon with a big smile and a slap of an arm across the shoulders. "You have done much for us, eh?"
Ramon thought on that for a minute while Jesus stood there grinning at him. That Jesus, he wasn't fooling anybody. Ramon got real serious looking and said, "Si. I 'ave done much for you already. Maybe too much, eh? Maybe I don't do
this one more thing you are going to ask of me."
Jesus's face started to drop. It kept on falling, lower and lower, until Ramon caught it up short with a smile. "Jus' one more, eh?" Ramon said.
"One more only, my cousin," Jesus said. "You see these saddles we have borrowed of Senor Valdez. He say for us to leave them with Senor Stuart, but if we go there in the morning, it will slow our start an' we do not know how far we got to go to find the boys."
"An' you want me to take these heavy saddles all the way in to the store for you?"
Jesus spread his hands and said, "Si."
"Hokay," Ramon said. "I do this for you since you are my own blood cousin." He looked at me then. "But you ... why I should do this for you?"
"Well…" I said, "about the only real good reason I can think of is that I'm not your own blood cousin and you don't have to do things for me. You can do just this one more thing an' be done with it."
"Ha. You see there, Jesus? He got the better reason than you, eh? Maybe I do it for him an' not for you."
We started back toward the 'dobe where we could tell from the good smells that Teresa had some supper fixing, but Ramon stopped short and hit himself up side the head with his open palm.
"Aiee, I almos' forget what Senor Stuart tells me today. Is about the two of you. I stop in there to see if maybe he will buy some smoked meat from the pigs I kill out in the Brasada an' Senor Stuart say there is a man there today very early. This man, he say, comes in an' buys some little things in the store an' then asks have Senor Stuart see anything of two boys with mules. One a Texian an' the other a 'greaser.' Senor Stuart, he say this rico asks of him like it is a thing of no importance but his eyes is all tight an' little when he asks it. Senor Stuart, he don't talk much anyway an' he don't like this rico much, so he don't say anything about you. He says he thinks you will want to know of this so he tells it to me to tell it to you." Ramon made a face. "An I almos' forget to tell you. Is important, this?"
Jesus shrugged, and I was as puzzled as him.
"It might of been one of the cow bunch," I said. "What's a rico anyway?"
"It sure ain't one of the cow bunch," Jesus said. "There ain't none of them rich, an' that's what a rico is—a rich, fancy gringo. Besides, any of them'd of asked for us outright with no beatin' around the bush. And they wouldn't of knowed anything about them mules."
"I guess not," I admitted. "How about somebody down from Dog Town?"
"Naw," Jesus said. "Anyone who'd had our way pointed out by old man Trembel would've asked for Ramon's place. That's no good either." He thought hard for a minute. "About the onliest one I could think of would be that big horse buyer from San Antone—that Jonathon Louis Hutch. Now, he's what I'd call a rico for sure. It must of been him, though I sure can't figure why he'd be asking for us."
I really was confused then. "Who in thunderation is Jonathon Louis Hutch, and how would he be looking for us two here in Fort Ewell when he's up in San Antone an' never heard of me, nor prob’ly of you, neither?"
"He ain't in San Antone. I said he's from San Antone— and he seen us on the road down here just yestiddy mornin'."
I started to ask Jesus just what he thought he was talking about when I remembered who it was he meant. "You mean that dude that rode on past us without a howdy? What would he want with us?"
"I don't know," Jesus said. "Maybe he dropped something an' figured we might of found it." He shrugged again. "Who can tell about ricos?"
"Oh, well," I said, "it must not of been anything much."
We went on into the house, then, to where Teresa had fixed up some beans and fried peppers and tortillas. I was hungry and they tasted good. And I was in a good mood anyway— Jesus had told me that dude's name without being asked.
10
WE GOT AN early start that next morning and didn't have any trouble moving the horses along once we got them over the bridge and onto the proper side of the river— though we did have a bit of fun getting that done.
Once they got across, we got them strung out and headed east along the Nueces, working them the same as we had before with Jesus keeping them close to the river and me pushing from behind—back where the dust was. I had a suspicion that I might just as well learn to like the taste of dust for as the junior member of a drive I was sure to get real well acquainted with it before I got home again.
We moved them horses right along and in about twenty miles or so we caught up with the rest of our cow crowd at a curve in the river where the Nueces turns up toward the north. Jesus said we was back home in McMullen County by then, but I couldn't tell it from looking. The grass and mesquite and agarita seemed the same as always.
Before we reached the others we didn't exactly see any of them, but we found a burnt-out fire and a bunch of sacks hanging up in some cottonwoods where they'd left their supplies and bedrolls and stuff.
"This here's it," I told Jesus. "That's my soogan and stuff over there."
"Hokay, Duster. We'll move the horses on down a ways, then you hold 'em there while I come back and see if they've left anything to eat."
Now, it was way past noon already, and a long time back to the breakfast we'd had at Ramon's place, so that sounded good.
We took the horses on a little further until we found an open flat along the river where I could keep them in a bunch by myself. Our regular remuda was broke to a bell mare and would stay close to her, so it was no trouble keeping them handy. I could just turn the bell mare loose with hobbles on her to keep her from running off and the rest would stay where they could be got. We didn't know yet if these new horses would stay with a mare and we didn't have any idea of trying them out ourselves. We probably could have hunted up the rest of the remuda and turned the new stuff loose with them, but it would of been somewhat embarrassing if they turned tail and walked back to the Valdez place...so I held them there in a bunch.
Jesus went back to the camp to see if he could find some food. The horses seemed happy enough just to stand there and maybe pull at some grass from time to time after the drive down the river.
They was quiet and Jesus was gone and I sat there all by myself with some time to think. It was the first time that had happened since I'd joined up with the cow hunt, and it felt good for a change.
I stretched and leaned back in the saddle until I could hear the leather creak, then I sat back up again and closed my eyes so's I could just sit and listen to the quiet.
There wasn't hardly a sound except for that of grass tearing when a horse would pull up a mouthful and every once in a while the wet flutter of a horse blowing out air. It was kind of pleasant really, having it so peaceful and with the sun coming down hot against my shoulders.
With my eyes closed, too, things felt different to the touch. I mean I could really feel the reins, for instance. I don't know how many times I'd had those reins run through my fingers or for how many miles or how many days, and I'd never before noticed them one way or another. Now, they felt sort of thick and rougher than I'd ever noticed before. I dragged the tips of my fingers over them, and even without looking, I could tell which was the inside of the hide and which had been the outside when those strips of leather was cut.
It was nice being all peaceful like that for a minute or two, but then I heard a little flurry of sounds, and when I looked, there was a young gelding the mottled color of oak bark trying to slip out of the bunch on the far side of the herd so I had to go to work again.
I picked my horse up into an easy lope and got the gelding turned back where he belonged. After that, I just sat easy and waited until Jesus came back.
"I found us some cold pone an' some cooked beef that ain't too old," he said.
"It'll do," I agreed.
"No sign of the rest of them nor of the cows they've cotched. Can't be too far away, though. They'll be along directly, I s'pose."
I took a sight on the sun and figured it to be just shy of mid-afternoon. "Directly," I agreed.
Jesus handed over a chunk of beef hal
f again as big as my fist and a good-sized piece of corn pone, and for a time, the two of us sat easy on our horses with that food tasting good and the sun warm and a job done that we could look back on. He must of felt pretty much the same as me about it all for every once in a while he'd look over my way and grin around a mouthful of beef.
When we'd finished eating we switched our saddles to fresh horses and turned loose the ones we'd been riding so they could roll in the dust and get the sweat off their backs. They seemed to enjoy it, too, laying on their backs and kicking their legs around and grunting like a couple of happy hogs.
Those horses looked so comfortable once they'd got back up and shook themselves off that I left the horse herding to Jesus and walked on over to the river.
I shucked out of my shoes and leggins and coat and sat down in that water at the edge, clothes and all. It felt most too good to be true. It felt so cool and nice I began to wish I could swim so I could take off my clothes and get all the way under instead of sitting at the edge dipping water over the top half of me.
Still, I managed to get myself plenty wet, and in truth, I must of looked a sight sitting there in the water with my clothes sopping wet. I didn't mind, for it felt good, and couldn't help but make my things cleaner. They hadn't been washed in some time and was beginning to get a bit rank.
Right then, the rest of the crowd came riding up. One second I was all quiet and cool hunkered down in that water and the next, I was feeling mighty small and unprotected with those boys on their horses standing over me with a hundred eyeballs among them—with every pair of eyes perched up on top of a noisy, flapping tongue, too.
At least it seemed there was that many. They made noise enough for it, sitting on a bunch of horses that looked taller than any I'd ever seen before—taller, that is, from my point of view down below the riverbank level. Those horses looked tireder than most too. I could see that even being startled like I was. Those horses was beat. Jesus and me hadn't got there any too soon with the fresh stuff. Not that I was thinking much about that at the time.
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