Along the Trail to Freedom

by John Duncklee

  Once on the trail that she and Caratewa had taken to Arivaipa Canyon, Tesuquilla watched the tracks made by the warriors as they headed back to Tucson. When she came to the fork in the trail she took the same trail she and her mother had taken because the tracks of the Tohono O'odam and White Eyes went straight along the San Pedro River and not the way she and her mother had come. The long hill that the trail followed around the north end of the mountains made the going slow. Leading her mother's horse presented no problem because someone had trained the horse well. Every so often she looked at the empty saddle and began to cry.

  Past Tucson, as she rode within sight of the white plastered San Xavier Mission, she thought about Francisco Galerita, the leader of the Tohono O'odam, the people the Spaniards called Papago meaning bean- eater because mesquite beans were a staple in their diet. They called the ground up beans "pechita"." Her thoughts focused on some sort of revenge on the warriors who killed her mother. Then she realized it was not the Tohono O'odam who killed her; Eskiminzin had told her the Mexicans and White Eyes had shot and killed Caratewa as she was trying to escape. Eskiminzin had mentioned he thought he saw a man named Elias do most of the shooting. Forgetting the warriors, she remembered where the Mexican Elias lived. Her mother had mentioned him as they rode around Rancho Sopori. Soon the Sierrita Mountains came between her and the mission building and her thoughts changed to the trip that was left for her in order to arrive in Tubutama.

  The trail was empty of travelers until she reached Saric, where two farmers with teams of horses pulling plows to their fields took up the trail's breadth so that she had to ride around them. Nobody stirred in La Reforma and instead of riding out to Rancho Romero to inform María about the massacre, she rode directly to her house by the bosque.

  First, after arriving, she made sure the horses had water and feed in the corral. Then, she went into the adobe, noting that everything seemed just as it was when she and her mother had left for Arivaipa. As she stood in the middle of the main room, she looked around and realized that she would never see her mother there again. Suddenly she wailed and then screamed at the walls. She shook her head in anger and grief at the same time. She felt frozen standing there, but shuffled her way to her bed where she flopped down sobbing until she fell asleep.

  Early morning light spilled through the windows and she opened her eyes. But she closed them again and rubbed them to remove the caked tears that had dried on her eyelashes. It was difficult for her to push herself up from the bed. She weaved her way to the stove and began to prepare a meal. She shook her head trying to remember what meal it was that she should cook. With the fire started in the cast iron stove, she filled the coffee pot with water from the cistern outside, and put it on the stove to boil. She walked out to where the hens laid their eggs, and found several that María had not come for yet. As she prepared the meal she suddenly realized that she felt ravenously hungry.

  She had just finished eating when María arrived on her saddle mule. She dismounted and came over to hug Tesuquilla.

  "It is good to see you home again, Tesuquilla," she said.

  Before letting go of María, Tesuquilla broke down and cried. Between tears and sobs she told María what had happened in Arivaipa. María held Tesuquilla for a long time and let her cry until all the tears stopped and she could sit down in a chair.

  "Would you like to come to Rancho Romero for a while? It must be difficult for you to be here where you once lived with your mother."

  "Thank you, dear friend," Tesuquilla said. "I will stay here because I must take over from my mother as curandera."

  "If you should feel differently as the days pass, you are always welcome at Rancho Romero," María said. "It might be nice if you come over for supper tonight. Then you could relax after all that has happened."

  "You are very kind, María, I think that would be just what I need. I will sort things out here for a while and see you at the ranch later."

  Tesuquilla watched María ride back to the village then went to the cupboard in the house where her mother kept her herbs and elixirs for curing. She made a mental count and inventory of the supply before going outside to sit beneath the porch roof that shaded the house's adobe walls from the morning sun. She sat in the wicker chair that her mother had used, and thought about all that had happened since they had left Tubutama for Arivaipa. Among her thoughts was Juan Elias, the one who had shot and killed her mother. As the afternoon waned she saddled one of the horses and started riding to Rancho Romero to join those people for supper. As she reined the horse away from the main road onto the trail into the ranch headquarters she wondered what kind of a man Gus might be and remembered what her mother had said about capturing some Negro blood for the family line of curanderos.

  The men sat around in the living room sipping mescal so María opened the front door for Tesuquilla and ushered her into the ranch house. They chatted momentarily before going to join the men where María told them that supper was on the table. She introduced Tesuquilla to all the men because she remembered that Caratewa had done all the talking when the two women had stopped on their way to Arivaipa. She had also forewarned the men about the massacre at Arivaipa. They rose and filed into the dining room to sit down at the large round table that stood in the middle of the room. A rustic chandelier lit with candles hovered over the table. María seated Tesuquilla between herself and Gus because that was the order in which they approached the table.

  As they feasted on plates of carne asada, broiled beef, and, another Sonoran specialty, refried beans, that is, cooked pinto beans fried in lard, everyone including Tesuquilla complimented María on her salsa chile verde, made from green chile, tomatoes and onions with several other spices mixed into the dish.

  After supper they continued sitting at the table with coffee, and began a conversation about freedom and how each saw freedom in his or her life. Tesuquilla asked about Silas.

  "He went back up the mountain," Billy said. "He seems to feel freer up there."

  "I suppose I am as free as anyone can be," Homer said. "If some Union officer came up and arrested me for deserting back at Antietam, I couldn't say I was still free. But, until that happens, I suppose I feel free enough to move around as I please."

  "You and I deserted armies at the same time," Billy said. "I felt free as a bird until you came down here, and showed me that dodger offering a reward for my capture. I still feel free except I don't want to travel into Arizona where some bounty hunter might find me."

  "What about you, Gus?" María asked.

  "I feels like Homa 'cause I done deserted da ahmy. But I is fine heah in Sonora long as ah doan hafta go ta Arizona."

  "María, do you feel free?" Tesuquilla asked.

  "I suppose as long as my father is alive I will not feel free. If he knows where to find me I am afraid he will come after me to take me back to Rancho Sopori. And, you, Tesuquilla?"

  "I once felt free because my mother and I lived our lives with few problems and she taught me the ways of a curandera. With her death in this world, I am alone. I feel free except for one thing that seems to haunt me like a ghost or evil spirit."

  "And what is that bothersome thought, Tesuquilla?" María asked.

  "I am sorry it is this way, but Eskiminzin, the Arivaipa headman told me that during the massacre, one of the Tucson men shot and killed my mother. It was your father. I know because Eskiminzin recognized him when he fired his rifle at my mother. The others that stayed mounted shot the other women that left their wickiups and tried to escape."

  "I thought I was free before I met María," Billy said. "I would still feel free if it wasn't for her father wanting to find her and me. How about you, Homer? You seem happy to be wandering around looking for people whose faces are on wanted posters that you call 'dodgers'.' How long do you think you will live that life?"

  Homer rubbed his eyes and then grabbed his nose with his fist. He looked up to the ceiling and dropped his eyes back to the far wall. "I feel freer than I ever h
ave. I don't work for any man and I can come and go as I please. I can also go anywhere I choose to. I never worry about money because it always seems to come into my hands whenever I need it. I look at you, Billy and María, and wonder what my life would be like if I had a wife as nice as yours. Then, I think about the responsibility that would mean, and I am not so sure that is what I should look for."

  After the men finished their conversation and had left the room, María approached Tess, as she called her friend, and held her in her arms. "I am so ashamed that my father was part of that terrible massacre and shot Caratewa. I wish there was something I could do to help you in your grief."

  Tesuquilla stepped away far enough to take María's face in her hands. "Dear friend, it was not you that shot my mother, it was your father. Please do not try to share that blame because you had nothing to do with that horrible happening. I am sure that your father will in some way pay for what he did, as will all of those men from Tucson."

  "I know you are right, Tess dear, but I cannot help but feel terrible that my father did such a thing and especially to Caratewa, your mother."

  "I must go back to my house," Tess said. "Your complexion and the look on your face tells me you might be with child, are you?"

  "I guess it must be obvious. Yes, I am four months along."

  "I will be happy to be your midwife, María. I have been involved with several birthings."

  "I would be grateful to you forever."

  "That said,I must go. I hope you can ride by my house tomorrow."

  "Buenos noches, Amiga."

  Chapter Twenty

  Before she could leave, Gus came out of the house and stopped in front of her. "Missy Tess, I like to ask to go see ya tamorra," Gus said.

  Tesuquilla felt surprised by Gus' request, but didn't hesitate to reply. "I would like that, Gus. We did not get much chance to become acquainted with all the people there in the house."

  Gus smiled. "Good, I be dere afta I gets done wid da mules."

  "I will have supper ready for you," Tesuquilla said, and mounted her horse for the short ride back to her house by the bosque. All the way home she thought about Gus and what her mother had told her about the need for more Negro blood to be infused into the Apache. The following afternoon Gus rode up to Tesuquilla's house on his saddlemule, dismounted and tied the mule to the hitch rail. Tesuquilla came out of the house and greeted her guest.

  "It is nice to see you," she said. "I am glad that you finished with the mules before night."

  "Nice bein' heah. I hopes ah ain't intrudin'."

  "I asked you to come because you seem like a nice man with gentle ways," Tess said. "I have our supper ready; so why don't we go inside and enjoy it."

  "Dat sound perfeck ta me," Gus said.

  Seated at the small table after Tesuquilla had brought the plates with the meal and sat down across from Gus, Gus looked at her. "Can I calls ya Tess like they does at da mule farm?"

  "That is fine," Tess said.

  "Well, Tess, I jest wanted to say I is sorry to heah 'bout yer Momma, an if dere's sometin' I can do, please tell me."

  "Thank you, Gus," Tess said, and rose from her chair, stepped over to Gus and put her arms around his neck. "You are a kind and feeling man, Gus. I am happy that you are here with me."

  She went back to her place at the table, and sat down with moist eyes. They chatted about the mules and Gus told her about Doreentah. Tess told him that she had met Doreentah after she had given birth to Zaranda. "I heard about her leaving San Carlos for the Sierra Madre," Tess said.

  Then Gus told Tess about Homer saving Koosalat's life after the skirmish with the Apache raiders on the stage road.

  "That makes Homer a very special person to us Apache," Tess said.

  "Homer good friend," Gus said, and rose from his chair to leave. "I say good night, Tess. Long day wid mules tamorra."

  Tess rose from her chair, put her arms around Gus' waist and hugged him. "I hope you will stop by tomorrow when you are finished with your mules."

  "Sound good ta Gus," he said, and went out to mount his saddle mule for the ride back to Rancho Romero. All the way back he couldn't get Tesuquilla out of his mind. He knew that he could have spent the night had he just said so, but he was glad that he was where he was and not rushing things for which he saw possibilities. She was far more special in his eyes than a short-term fling. He was happy that she had invited him to come back the following evening.

  All day the next day as Gus worked the mules he thought about Tess and wondered about what might happen between them. At noon, over dinner, Billy brought up the subject of selling some of the mules. Homer advised him to sell at the Horse and Mule Auction in Tucson. Homer had been there a time or two and it seemed to him that it was the best market, especially if a fellow had a number of horses or mules to sell. They both discussed the matter with Gus, but Gus was adamant about staying in Mexico lest the army found him and arrested him for desertion. All told Gus had thirty head, fifteen teams ready for sale. Besides being broke to harness, all the mules were also saddle broke to ride. Billy and Homer agreed that Homer would be the best one to take the mules to Tucson along with some locals to help herd them across the border to the auction that was held on the south side of town down by the Santa Cruz River. Billy, also, was reluctant to go because of the chance that he might run into Juan Elias.

  "I am sure glad you are here instead of chasing bandits," Billy told Homer as they finished dinner.

  "I like life down here in Sonora. I don't mind helping with those mules and I am hoping they will bring good prices after all the work Gus has put into training them. I think they will do well for you."

  "Do you think you will ever go back to bounty hunting?" Billy asked.

  "Oh, I am sure I will and probably someday soon," Homer said. "One of these days the money lake will go dry and I'll have to go after those jaspers whose pictures decorate the dodgers."

  A week later, Homer and three local boys, one from Tubutama and two from La Reforma, climbed into their saddles and started the fifteen mule teams up the trail that would eventually take them to Tucson.

  Gus had a look of satisfaction on his face as they began the drive. When they were out of sight he went back to the corrals where he was halter breaking the current crop of foals before they grew too big and got stubborn. He was anxious to join Tess for the night in her house. She had asked him the night before to move in with her, and he wanted to discuss that with his friend Billy before making any decision.

  Once the mules had been gone for a couple of hours Gus went to Billy and told him about what he had planned with Tess. Billy smiled. He patted Gus on the back. "That sounds wonderful to me, Gus. Tess is a fine woman and very close to my María. She has promised to be María's midwife when the baby comes, and that shouldn't be too long from now."

  "I see dat she gittin' pretty big," Gus said.

  "Tess came here yesterday and she thinks the baby will arrive in a week."

  "Let me know if I can hep wid anathin'," Gus said.

  "Thanks, my friend," Billy said. "I value that greatly."

  María felt the first labor pains three days later, and sent Gus to tell Tess that she had started the birth. Gus was nervous on his mission and galloped his saddle mule almost all the way to Tess' house.

  When Tess arrived, María was sitting in the big living room waiting. They had talked about the birthing many times so María followed Tess out of the house into the back yard where a large mesquite tree with strong lower branches grew next to a small arroyo.

  María knelt down on a blanket that Tess had brought and put under one of the lower branches as Tess had previously instructed. Tess knelt down in front of her and talked quietly to calm her. "Remember, I will be here to deliver your baby, and everything will be fine," Tess said. "Your job is to hold onto the branch, spread your knees, and wait for your son or daughter to arrive. This is the best position for birthing that I know of."

  "Must I stay holdi
ng the branch the entire time?" María asked.

  "You can relax now but when the pains get close, you will need to grab the branch again and use your grip on it to help with the birthing."

  María let go of the branch and sat back on her heels, and the two friends chatted about all sorts of things that came up in the conversation. Both expressed their feelings of friendship for each other.

  Billy stayed with Gus out by the corrals as Gus worked with the young mules. Billy enjoyed watching Gus with the young mules, talking to them in his gentle way and getting them to trust his hands on their bodies. Billy marveled at how quickly the youngsters responded to Gus' requests and how they seemed to join Gus in conversation. Gus' way with the mules also calmed Billy's nervousness with María in labor.

  Gus had finished the session with the young mules when Tess approached with the news that Billy was now the father of a handsome son.

  "Thank you for everything, Tess," Billy said. "We will always be in your debt."

  "We are all friends here, Billy. There is no debt among us."

  "You are my sister, Tess," Billy said, and went over and gave her a hug.

  "I never thought I would have a White Eye brother," she said, and laughed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Herding Billy's mules, Homer arrived at the Horse and Mule Auction in the south end of Tucson. He told the auctioneer all about the training the mules had, the saddle mules as well as those broke to harness. When Billy's mules entered the ring, the auctioneer called for Homer to step up and explain their training. After the mules sold at a good price because of their training, Homer left the ring. As he closed the gate behind him a man standing in front of him lifted his hand and offered it to Homer. "You may not remember me, Homer Crane, I am Virgil Becker."