Walking Into The Unknown

by Ginny Dye

  Matthew’s attention was drawn to the front of the room as the meeting was called to order. He tensed, knowing how much depended on the outcome. He agreed with Carrie that most of the Navajo in the reservation would die within the next year if something wasn’t done.

  General Sherman was the first to speak, asking Barboncito to tell him everything he could about Navajo life at Bosque Redondo.

  Barboncito stood straight, his bearing regal and proud. Matthew admired the leader who had escaped the reservation, but who was still fighting for the survival of his people. Barboncito, his voice deep and persuasive, began to talk, his words rolling through the room with passion and strength. Since Matthew could not understand a word of what was being said, he watched Sherman. The general listened politely and intently as the chief spoke, and as the translator interpreted, but Matthew sensed his mind was already made up. He found himself praying for a miracle.

  Barboncito, after a lengthy speech, done in segments so the translator could interpret, finally stopped and moved to the side to stand with the other chiefs. His face was stoic, but his eyes flashed with emotion.

  Matthew was impressed. Barboncito had made an impassioned plea, telling Sherman how poor, sick, hungry and sad his people were. He had described how many Navajo had died, and how many had disappeared. He explained that Bosque Redondo wasn’t meant for his people, and that the Navajo gods expected them to live among their sacred mountains.

  When the translator had interpreted the last of the speech, Sherman took out a map of Navajo land, and beckoned Barboncito forward. Matthew listened carefully as Sherman showed the chief boundary lines that had been marked on the map, and then promised that if the Navajo wished it to be so, that all the land inside the boundaries would belong to the Navajo forever. Matthew was beginning to feel the thrill of victory, when Sherman’s voice suddenly shifted.

  “Barboncito, are you sure the Navajo would not prefer a reservation in Oklahoma Indian Territory? Many Indian tribes live there. The land is good, and you will be safe from your traditional enemies.”

  Matthew understood the shocked look on Barboncito’s face. Hadn’t General Sherman heard anything of what he had said? How could he believe the Navajo would want to go anywhere but home?

  General Sherman realized the response to his question before Barboncito could open his mouth. “If you wish to go back to your own land, you must live in peace. The army will do the fighting for you. If you promise this, you may return to your own country.”

  Matthew watched excitement dawn on the chief’s faces as the words were translated.

  “I hope to God you will not ask me to go back to any other country except my own!” Barboncito replied. “It might turn out to be another Bosque Redondo. When we came, we were told this was a good place, but it is not.”

  General Sherman nodded, his expression saying he had made his final decision. The Navajo would go home.

  Matthew watched Tappan closely, noting the glow of deep satisfaction in his eyes.

  General Sherman addressed Barboncito again. “I want you to choose ten headmen for the next two meetings. Together, we will create one last treaty.”

  *****

  June 1, 1868 was a day the Navajo Nation would always remember.

  It was a day Carrie knew she would always remember, too. After so much despair and sadness, there was a cautious happiness swirling through Bosque Redondo. The Navajo people were going home soon. General Sherman had called for one final meeting to take place behind the reservation’s Indian hospital. Everyone who was not too ill to come would be there.

  Captain Marley was with Todd when they arrived by wagon to escort them to the meeting place. Carrie had suggested they all walk over, but Todd had insisted on transporting them.

  “I still think this is unnecessary,” Carrie protested. “We are used to walking through the reservation now. The people know us.”

  “And they also revere you,” Todd replied. “This is a very special day of ceremony and meaning to them. They are a people who believe in the power of ceremony. They will want their revered healers to do more than just walk among them.”

  “But that’s how we became their friends,” Carrie argued. She still thought it was a bad idea.

  “Todd is right,” Captain Marley said. “You don’t want to do anything to diminish the sacredness of the ceremony. Diminishing the ceremony will only diminish the meaning for them.”

  Carrie considered his words. “This is all about the Navajo today,” she conceded. “We’ll attend the way you believe we should attend.”

  Captain Marley grinned. “It’s ridiculous how thrilling it feels to win even a small argument with you,” he teased.

  Carrie laughed along with the rest of her team, and then climbed up into the wagon.

  By the time they arrived, there were thousands of Navajo quietly gathered in the fields surrounding the hospital. The sun shimmered high in the sky. Cooper’s Hawks and Turkey Vultures soared in the wind currents above them, while a flock of Sandhill Cranes populated the river in search of fish. The temperature hovered close to one hundred degrees, but none of the people seemed to mind.

  “Has there been talk of when they will head home?” Carrie asked.

  “As soon as possible,” Captain Marley answered. “Now that the decision is made, the government wants them back in their homeland. I anticipate them leaving in less than three weeks.”

  Carrie calculated how many more they could treat before they left to return home.

  “You could treat more of them if you came along.”

  Carrie heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. “What?”

  “Aren’t you sitting there thinking about how many of the Navajo you can treat before they leave?”

  Carrie smiled. “You know me well.” Only then did his words sink in. “You’re saying we could go along when they return home? Really?”

  Captain Marley shrugged. “You were planning on staying through July before your team returned to Virginia and Pennsylvania. I calculate it will take about a month for the Navajo to travel home. You and your team can go along with my unit, and then we’ll be heading back to Independence.”

  Carrie, knowing her team was listening to the conversation, turned to look at them. Their wide grins freed the answer resting on her lips. “Yes!”

  *****

  General Sherman walked forward into the center of the clearing. It was not possible for everyone to hear him, but no one was going to miss the occasion. Thankfully, Carrie and the rest had been reserved a spot next to Chooli’s family. As a medicine man, her grandfather had been granted a place of honor close to the Americans, Barboncito and his council of headmen.

  “I am going to read each treaty promise out loud.” General Sherman made his announcement in a loud voice. It rose and seemed to hang in the air, carrying the hope so needed by a dying nation. “Your leaders will then agree. In agreeing, they speak for all of you.” He paused for a long moment as his eyes swept the crowd, and then he began.

  "Shall war between the United States and the Navajo Nation end?”

  “Aoo'. Yes.” Barbancito and his headmen answered in both Navajo and English. Their voices rang strong and clear, their faces and eyes full of hope.

  "Shall the Navajo reservation belong to the Navajos forever?”

  “Aoo'. Yes.”

  "Will the Navajos stop raiding their enemies?”

  “Aoo'. Yes.”

  "Shall the Americans build schools and find teachers for Navajo children?”

  “Aoo'. Yes.”

  "Will the Navajo people send their children to school?”

  “Aoo'. Yes.”

  "Shall the Americans buy fifteen thousand sheep, five hundred cattle and one million pounds of corn seed for the Navajo people?"

  “Aoo'. Yes.”

  General Sherman sat down at the table that had been placed there for the occasion, picked up a pen, and signed the document. He then handed the pen to Barboncito with ceremon
ial flair.

  Barboncito signed the paper solemnly, and then passed the pen to Manuelito, who signed, and then passed it on to each of the other headmen.

  Carrie watched as twenty-nine Navajo leaders signed the treaty. She could feel the hope and anticipation vibrating in the air. The happiness glowing on the faces of Chooli’s family members made her stomach clench with joy. These people who had suffered so much were finally going home.

  And she and her team were going with them.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  June 18, 1868

  Carrie could hardly believe the sight that met her eyes when their wagons, driven by Matthew and Nathan, moved into the formation. Covered wagons and people on foot filled the horizon as far as her eyes could see. Everyone capable of walking would walk, but this time they would be protected warring tribes and Mexican kidnappers. Hundreds of soldiers were stationed along the entire line to make sure all the Navajo returned to their part of the country safely. The old and the sick rode in the wagons not being used to house the supplies that would feed everyone. The sheep, cattle and horses, though a paltry amount of what the Indians had arrived with, were also part of the procession.

  “I wonder how far back it goes,” Carolyn murmured, her eyes filled with both joy and tears.

  Captain Marley rode up just then. “Ten miles,” he answered, his face filled with satisfaction. He peered into the wagons and nodded his greeting to Chooli’s family. Her parents and grandparents nodded back with broad smiles.

  Carrie couldn’t miss the pain in their eyes, however. She knew they were glad to be going home, but they carried with them the memories of the horrors they had experienced. They carried the losses of all the Navajo who had not lived to see this day. Their hearts carried the scars of losing everything they owned, and of saying good-be to their daughter and as yet unborn grandchild. Her jaw clenched. For what purpose? Simply to return them to where they should never have been taken from? She understood the conflicted emotions on their faces as the wagon started moving. She reached over and took Chooli’s parents’ hands, but remained silent. She could imagine what they were feeling, but she would never be arrogant enough to pretend she could understand.

  Chooli’s mother gripped her hand, leaning out of the wagon to peer forward as they slowly began to move. They would head north along the Pecos River to Santa Fe before they dipped south to Albuquerque, where they would cross the Rio Grande River and then head west back to their homeland.

  “One month?” Chooli’s father asked.

  “That’s what they tell me, Shizhé'é. It should take a month.”

  “Home?” Chooli’s grandmother asked. “True?”

  Carrie nodded. “Aoo'. Yes,” she said. The Navajo had been betrayed so many times that it was no surprise they were reluctant to trust any promises made to them. “Home,” she repeated. She wished she could say so much more, but without Todd to interpret, it was difficult. Her commitment to learn Navajo had faltered under the endless hours of caring for the people who were ill, but she knew she had made the right choice. At least she had the comfort of knowing many of the Indians walking right now had been too ill to do so just a month ago. She and her team had saved many lives.

  Janie settled down next to her in the wagon. “I thought you would be riding Celeste.”

  Carrie shrugged. “I had hoped to, but the military needs every horse for the troops.” [GD2]She frowned as she thought of the stories Chooli had told her about the march that had delivered them to Bosque Redondo. She pushed aside the memories, choosing to believe Captain Marley’s assurance that the Indians would be well taken care of. “I am going to work on my journal,” she told Janie.

  “How is it coming?”

  Carrie smiled. “Far better than I would have thought possible when I arrived.” She reached for her journal and handed it to Janie, understanding when her friend’s eyes widened.

  “I didn’t know you could draw,” Janie murmured, stopping on a page with one particularly beautiful illustration of a Yucca plant.

  “That’s because I can’t.”

  “Then how…?”

  Carrie grinned. “Shima. It turns out she is quite the artist.”

  Janie studied the book again before she looked at Chooli’s mother. “It’s beautiful work.”

  Shima smiled but looked confused.

  Carrie searched her mind for the word she needed. “Nizhon,” she finally blurted out, and then looked at Janie. “Nizhon means beautiful.”

  Shima smiled. “Beautiful,” she said carefully. “Thank you.”

  Janie continued to flip through the book, exclaiming over the illustrations.

  “It has been very helpful that Shima is also an herbalist,” Carrie said. “Whenever I have had spare time, Todd has translated what she knows about the plants. I’ve been able to document far more than I thought I would. I also met a few times with the herbalist who lives near the reservation.”

  Janie stared at her. “When did you do that? And why didn’t I know?”

  “The last seven weeks have been crazy,” Carrie reminded her. She and Janie had worked together only a few times, and when the team came in at night they usually collapsed onto their beds, only to repeat their actions the next day. Talking had been a rare commodity. “I’m looking forward to being on the trail again.”

  Janie stared out the back of their wagon at the miles of wagon train following them. “I don’t believe it will resemble our trip out here,” she muttered.

  Carrie chuckled. “Probably not, but we can’t do much until the wagons stop every day.” She had to admit she was looking forward to some rest.

  “Not so fast,” Nathan called from his seat on the wagon. “Todd came by earlier. He will be back soon. He said to be ready to visit the wagons that are carrying the sick. He’s hoping our team can make many of them well before they arrive home.”

  Carrie bit back her sigh, knowing that was what they had come for. When she met Janie’s eyes, she could tell her friend was thinking the same thing. They would push through their fatigue, just as they had during the war. They were here to make a difference. They would do it with every drop of energy they had.

  *****

  Life fell into a routine. Carrie and her team worked as hard as ever, but it seemed easier because the Navajo were now full of hope. They weren’t being kept alive only to have another disease take its toll. They were going home. The army had at least made certain there was plenty of food for the return journey. Children, even after a long day of walking ten to twelve miles, still had the energy to play games before they crawled under blankets and fell sound asleep. Men could be heard talking long into the night about their plans to reclaim their homesteads, and women talked about rebuilding their homes and replanting their cornfields and peach orchards.

  Carrie was standing next to Todd as they watched the sun set below the mountains, turning them into the brilliant red she had come to love so much. There were times she missed the lush green forests and fields of Virginia, but the vast expanses of the West had claimed her heart in a way she had not expected. She shifted slightly so she could watch Janie playing with Toh Yah. Matthew was sitting with one of the headmen, assisted by another interpreter, as he gathered material for the articles he would write when he returned home. She knew he was also planning a book about his experiences. Carolyn and Melissa were helping Chooli’s parents build a small fire to ward off the evening chill, while Randall and Nathan were teaching Chooli’s father more English.

  “I love it out here,” Carrie murmured.

  “I know just how you feel,” Todd replied. “I am eager to see my family in Boston when I return from this trip, but I am not looking forward to the crowds and noise. A man feels he can connect with his soul out here.”

  Carrie nodded. It was the perfect way to express what she was feeling. Even surrounded by seven thousand Navajo, there was a quiet that spoke to her. She took deep breaths of the air that was tinged with wood smoke, but was still fresh
and full. “What elevation do you think we are?”

  “Close to six thousand feet,” Todd replied. “Is it bothering you?”

  “No. I believe all of us have acclimated. It just seems that the higher we go, the purer the air is.”

  Todd grinned. “Wait until we get to Canyon de Chelly. You will understand why the Navajos’ hearts were broken when they were forced to leave. You’ve never breathed air so pure, nor seen anything so beautiful.”

  “You’ve been there?” Carrie asked in surprise. “You weren’t with Kit Carson when—”

  Todd shook his head before she could finish her sentence. “Thankfully, I was not.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, it probably wouldn’t have bothered me then. It took time for me to understand that what our country is doing to the Indians is wrong.”

  Carrie looked out over the vast camp, knowing there were hundreds of troops providing protection. There were pickets on the outskirts of the camp and guards in the mountains. “How many of the soldiers feel as you do?”

  Todd sighed. “Not enough,” he admitted. “They will protect the Indians because they have received orders, and because they realize getting the Indians back to their homeland will release them from Bosque Redondo as well. I am certain that is the motivation that drives most of them.”

  “Will the Navajo survive?” Carrie had to ask the question that burned in her mind more and more every day. “Their homeland was destroyed before they left. They surrendered because they couldn’t survive. They were going to starve to death. What about now? What makes it better?”

  Todd gazed off into the distance for several moments before he replied. “I’ve asked myself the same question many times. The Navajo were a wealthy, comfortable people before the army destroyed their homeland. They surrendered because they were afraid they could not survive the winter, and because the army was intent on destroying any attempts they made to farm or raise stock. They are coming home in summer so at least they will have time to put in some food crops before winter, but I guess the most important thing is that they have learned what starvation and deprivation truly are. Whatever they have to face when they return home will be far better than what they experienced at Bosque Redondo.”