Along the Trail to Freedom

by John Duncklee

  "Dat Noriberto says dey built a new house, so I reckon that's da new house."

  "I expect you are right, Gus. Let's ride over to it and find out if there is anyone home."

  They rode up to the house that had a long, deep front porch with various seats and barrels on it. Three mongrel dogs came prancing out as they barked to warn their owners about the strangers. Two men came out of the large front door putting on their felt hats as they stepped off the porch, squinting into the setting sun to see who the visitors might be.

  Gus and Silas had almost reached the hitch-rail.

  "I'll be damned," Billy yelled. "Gus, what in hell brings you here?"

  "I've seen everything now," Homer said, stepping up to Gus and slapping him on his left knee, and then shaking his hand.

  "I asks da same. What you fellers doin' here way down in Mexico?"

  "We are raising your favorite means of transportation, Gus. Look out there and see those mares and mule foals."

  "I seen dem on da way in. By da way, dis here be ma fren Silas. He tole me about someone raisin' mules down heah, but I dinna tink it was you fellers."

  "Get down and come in," Billy said. "I want you to meet my wife, María."

  Silas and Gus dismounted. As the four men walked to the door, there was backslapping and hand shaking among all of them including Silas.

  "I thought you joined the Army," Homer said.

  "I did, but da Army ain't no different than slavery. I quit and went to da mountains where dey cain't find ma black ass."

  "They won't find you here, either," Billy said. "I don't know how many times I have said to María that I wish ol' Gus would show up and train these critters."

  They went inside where Billy introduced Silas and Gus to María. Supper was on the table so she brought out two more plates and utensils before they all sat down to the meal of birria that she had made that afternoon while the men were out checking the cattle in the hill country.

  The conversation was all about what they had all been doing since they had parted company in Tucson.

  When there was a break in the talking, Gus reached over and tapped Homer on his arm. Homer turned and looked at Gus.

  "Homa, I gots sumthin ya needs ta know. I know where yer Auntie Doreentah is at."

  Homer, wide-eyed, looked straight at his friend. "Where did you see Auntie Doreentah, Gus?" Homer asked.

  "She up in da cave wid da udda Apache where I bin since I quit da Army."

  Gus told Homer about meeting Doreentah and that it was her son-in-law that Homer had saved after their skirmish with the four Apache raiders. He also told Homer that he had promised to tell him where Doreentah was living and he would take him there whenever he wanted to go.

  "I can't go right now," Homer said. "I feel like I should stay here and help Billy get this mule operation going smoothly. He is counting on me to sell off some yearlings in Tucson. He is afraid to go and risk meeting his father-in-law who has a wanted dodger out for him."

  Homer then explained what had happened between Billy and Juan Elias.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "Just think, my friends," Homer said. "It is 1871 and it seems like only yesterday we were sitting around that fire when Gus came in as hungry as an old horse that had been rode hard and put up wet."

  "Well, I, for one, am sure happy that we are all together again," Billy said. He rose from his chair, went to the cupboard by the wall, and brought back a bottle that had no label. "This here is a bottle of Noriberto's mescal. Let's drink a toast to this great occasion."

  María rose from her chair and fetched five glasses from the top shelf in the cupboard. Billy poured the glasses full and handed them around. "Here's to the three most stubborn men in the world and to you, too, Silas for even daring to join us."

  They all took deep sips from the glasses and everyone smiled warmly. A knock on the front door brought silence to the group. Billy walked over and opened the heavy, ornately carved wooden door to find Tesuquilla and her mother Caratewa standing in the entrance. "Come in, come in," Billy said. "Come in and meet an old friend and a new one."

  The two curanderas, female shamen, entered the house and walked over to the group that stood around the dining table. Billy introduced the women to Silas and Gus, explaining that Gus had been his and Homer's companion on their trip West and that Silas was a friend of Gus. "They just arrived and we are about to have supper, and we would be honored to have you two join us."

  Billy used all of the southern manners he could remember.

  "Thank you, but my mother and I are on our way to Arivaipa," Tesuquilla said. "A messenger came and told us that my mother's aunt is not well and needs my mother's cures. We should be on our way without delay. We will come here when we return from Arivaipa. I must ask a favor from María."

  María stepped over and stood in front of Tesuquilla. "What can I do for you, my friend?" María asked.

  "I don't know how long we will be away and our livestock need caring for. I must ask you to make sure they are provided for," Tesuquilla said. "While in Arivaipa, I must also learn the final plant lessons from Eskimizin, our Shaman while we are there."

  "I will be happy to do that, my friend. Do not have that on your mind while you are away. We have been friends since I arrived in Tubutama."

  "Then, I will speak for my mother, and thank you. We are sorry that we cannot stay."

  María accompanied the two women to the door and opened it again. Once the two had mounted their horses, she went back inside the house and joined the others. They sat down to supper and Silas started telling stories about the Apache in the Sierra and his life among them.

  Tesuquilla and her mother rode away in silence until they reached the main trail to Saric and points north. It was Caratewa who spoke first.

  "Daughter, what did you think of him?"

  "Who are you talking about?"

  "The black man they call Gus," she said. "I thought he was a good looking man and he has a softness about him that shows with his smile."

  "I agree with you. It was interesting that he came west with Homer and Billy. The White Eyes don't mix well with the colored people. But, Billy and Homer seem to consider Gus an equal and a friend. I like that attitude."

  "I agree with you, daughter. I am wondering what you think about having this Gus father your child."

  "That thought did not cross my mind. Why?"

  "Do you remember what I told you about the power we both get from the colored blood we have?"

  "Yes, Mother. I remember all about what has been carried down from your great, great grandmother. The story about the black slave, Estevanico, who, according to some old time priest named Fray Marcos de Niza, came to the Zuni Pueblo where the people killed him."

  "Yes, that is what the priest wrote, but our people know differently," Caratewa said. "Our story is that Estevanico arrived at Tesuque and lived peaceably. Several maiden women loved him so that they gave the pueblo his sons and daughters."

  "Yes, I always enjoy that story," Tesuquilla said. "And, there is the story about him disappearing one day after he had sired so many babies that he could not successfully hunt to take care of them and their mothers. Nobody heard anything about where he had gone or what he was doing. The last question didn't need an answer."

  "That is the story and all the descendants of Estevanico have held great power as shamen and curanderas."" Caratewa continued. "That powerful blood has become diminished throughout passing time, and it is now your duty to our people to give birth to some half-black babies so that the mixture comes back to strength. We first went to Tubutama because it is near where Estevanico started north. We were hoping that his spirit might have remained near so that we can benefit from his power."

  "I understand all that, dear Mother," Tesuquilla said. "When we return to Tubutama I will learn more about Gus and make my decision about him once I get to know him well. There is more to a baby than black skin."

  Their conversation about Gus ended, and they
rode steadily north, stopping only for food where they could find it and enough sleep to give them strength to sit in their saddles. Caratewa mentioned several times that she was glad that the winter cold had changed into the time of sprouting grass and flowers. They followed the rivers so that they had plenty of water for the horses and themselves.

  After they had crossed into Arizona Territory from Sonora they came to the junction of the Tucson Trail and the trail to La Aribac and east to the Santa Cruz River. Caratewa rode straight on the Trail to Tucson.

  "Why do you take this trail?" Tesuquilla asked. "I remember when we passed through here before that you said there was not much water along this trail."

  "I know that, but María told me that her father hates Apache people. The Sopori Ranch is along the trail after La Aribac. I think it is best to avoid that man from what she told me about him. We can get water at the Cuero Quemado. They are good people there."

  "Are we all Apache?" Tesuquilla asked. "You told me once that my name is from a small pueblo north of Santa Fe, Nuevo Mexico called Tesuque."

  "That is because your grandfather had come from Tesuque because his mother had been taken there after those people stole her from Arivaipa Canyon."

  "To me it sounds like we don't really know who we are because there have been too many mixes between tribes and even bands."

  "Daughter, I think you have it figured out quite well. What is important is that you know who you are and what you are inside your mind. Once you have your last lesson from Eskiminzin you will be a curandera and capable of curing those that need curing. You will be able to do that with the plants that Eskiminzin tells you about and how to prepare them, but you will also know how to call on the spirits to have them enter the spirits of those you are curing."

  "I am looking forward to my final lessons from Eskiminzin. He is a good headman."

  "Did you notice that the black man, Gus, was wearing Apache clothing?" Caratewa asked.

  "Yes, I wonder what he was doing there."

  "I have heard about Silas, the miner fellow," Caratewa said. "He has been to Arivaipa and looked in the canyon for gold."

  "I must ask you another question, Mother," Tesuquilla said. "You are a curandera like Eskiminzin. Why can't you teach me about the plants?"

  "I could teach you about what I know and I have done so along the way. However, he knows what he knows and sometimes that is different from what I know. So, if you learn from both him and me you will learn more than if you only learned from one of us. This is how we curanderas try to make our knowledge broader and therefore more effective with which to help people."

  The ride from the border to Arivaipa Canyon, north of Tucson, took them four days of steady traveling, stopping only for water, sometimes food and to rest the horses. They made their camps at night in places where Caratewa knew they would not be intruded upon. After rounding the north end of the Catalina Mountains the trail went downhill all the way to the San Pedro River. From there they followed the river all the way to Arivaipa Canyon, arriving in late afternoon.

  People came out of their wickiups to greet the two. Caratewa went directly to her aunt's wickiup with her deerskin bag of medicinal herbs and other paraphernalia. Eskiminzin arrived and escorted Tesuquilla to his wickiup where his two wives cleared a place for her to stay. She carried on a conversation with them while she waited for instructions from the headman of the Arivaipa Apache band. The two wives of Eskiminzin had prepared supper and offered Tesuquilla a bowl of stew that she ate hungrily after the long ride just completed.

  Eskiminzin entered the wickiup and sat down across from Tesuquilla. "Your mother tells me that you are ready for your final lessons," he said.

  "Yes," Tesuquilla said. "I have been looking forward to this for quite a while."

  "All the men are away for the spring hunt and will not return for a few days. You and I shall begin early tomorrow morning as soon as we have eaten," he said. "We must walk a ways to a place where some important plants grow so that I can show you how to recognize what they look like and how to use them. You are probably ready for a good sleep after the long ride from Tubutama. Your mother will stay with her aunt to carry out the cure. I see my wives have made you comfortable so I will see you early in the morning."

  "Thank you," Tesuquilla said. "I appreciate your attention."

  Tesuquilla arose from the bedding skins as soon as she heard Eskiminzin and his wives moving around in the wickiup. The sun had not yet made its morning appearance. Eskinminzin stepped quickly outside, looked around the village because he had heard the horses neighing and the dogs barking. He stepped back into the Wickiup and hurriedly told his wives and Tesuquilla to come with him quickly and he would explain once they had gotten themselves hidden away from the village. The two wives, with unquestioning obedience, went over to the headman, followed by Tesuquilla, who sensed that there was something wrong going on outside of the wickiup. Once outside, the three women followed Eskiminzin to the rear of the circle of wickiups and out into the brush that surrounded the settlement. He led them without looking back, through the brush and over to the base of a hill that was at the mouth of Arivaipa Canyon. He stopped momentarily, and looked ahead to judge the best route to take. He proceeded once again, seemingly without caution with only a strong desire to escape whatever he had seen back in the village. They finally arrived at a spot where there was a congregation of boulders that had once been on higher ground, but had slipped down the hill to form their family. Eskiminzin showed the women where to hide, then took a position between two of the largest boulders so that he could see what might be happening in the village.

  The faint sound of whoops came across the brush land that they had come through moments before. Eskiminzin turned toward the three women, still out of breath from the strenuous run from the village. The women sat willingly, trying to catch their breaths, too.

  "I will try to explain why I was in such a hurry to get away from our village," he said. "When I heard the horses and dogs sounding like they were upset at something I went outside our wickiup and looked around. What I saw made me hurry back and get you three out of there as quickly as possible."

  "What made you in such a hurry?" one of the wives asked.

  Eskiminzin tilted the broad brim of his felt hat up after he turned toward the women. "I saw an army of Tohono O'odam warriors running toward the wickiups nearest to the Camp Grant buildings. Leading these warriors was their chief from San Xavier, Francisco Galerita. I know him from the past. There were six White Eyes mounted on their horses that were watching from the arroyo bottom. That is when I rushed back to tell you three to follow me."

  "How many Tohono warriors were there?" the woman asked again.

  "I don't know how many. I do know that with only eight old men and me, there was no possibility to defend all those women and children. All of the younger men are in the mountains hunting. Those Tohono O'odam must have known that there would be nobody here to stop them. I must turn around so that I can witness what is happening."

  Screams were coming from the settlement. Dogs yelped as the assailants clubbed women and children to death as they went from wickiup to wickiup. Eskiminzin saw a man he recognized as Juan Elias, owner of the large Rancho Sopori. He watched in horror as Elias pointed his rifle at Caratewa who had run out of her aunt's wickiup after the shooting began. Elias fired at Caratewa, hitting her squarely in the chest. She dropped to the ground, dead. Eskiminzin wanted to rush out and kill Elias when he saw the wealthy rancher dismount and trot over to Caratewa's body and remove her familiar Turquoise necklace and hold it up so his friends from Tucson could see what he had found. The massacre ended in a mere half hour. Eskiminzin watched the warriors line up twenty-eight children and tie them together with rawhide thongs to form a marching line. It was only then that they left the homes of the Arivaipa Apache. The marauders disappeared from Arivaipa Canyon.

  Eskiminzin, with tears streaming down his cheeks, turned around again to face the three women. "W
e must leave this place," he said. "I cannot look at what has happened to our women and children."

  "What about my mother?" Tesuquilla asked.

  "The White Eyes and Mexicans were on their horses shooting the women who left the wickiups trying to escape. I saw your mother fall. I am so sorry, Tesuquilla. Juan Elias of Rancho Sopori shot her. He also stole her turquoise necklace."

  Tears welled into Tesuquilla's eyes. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed in between her wailing. Finally, Tesuquilla, following Eskiminzin and his two wives, walked into Arivaipa Canyon to look for the men of the village.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As she walked among the boulders in the canyon, Tesuquilla wanted only to leave Arivaipa and return to Tubutama. She no longer felt that Arivaipa was her home. Her grief captured her thoughts until she finally caught up with Eskiminzin and told him her feelings about returning to Sonora.

  "We have not gone to look at the medicinal plants," he said.

  "That will have to wait for another time," she said. "I cannot bear staying anywhere near this place where my mother was murdered. I must go to the corral to see if my horse is still alive so I can at least ride back to Tubutama."

  "I am so terribly sorry that this has happened," Eskiminzin said. "I understand why you must return to Tubutama. I hope you have a safe trip, and I wish I could say that I will be here if you want to come back for that plant lesson."

  Tesuquilla turned and went back to the village. She did not go near the wickiups because she saw the army officer that Eskiminzin had called Lieutenant Whitman walking around in, what looked to her, a daze. She felt lucky to find both her horse and her mother's alive in the corral a hundred yards behind the village. The saddles were still on the top pole of the corral. She hurriedly saddled both horses, mounted, and left by circling wide around the village to avoid the army officer and another soldier that was walking around shaking his head in disbelief of what he had seen.