by Al Lacy
Both Indians nodded, and the older one said, “I am Chief Tando, and this is one of my subchiefs, Nandano. My son, Latawga, is on the travois. He is very ill. We are taking him to Dr. Dane Logan in Central City.”
Chet’s cheeks became stony in the sunlight. “Dr. Logan doesn’t treat Indians. It would be best if you let your own medicine men take care of your son.”
Tando shook his head mildly. “You do not understand. Dr. Dane Logan treated my son a few moons ago when he was shot in the leg. He removed the bullet from the leg and saved his life. The wound is not healing. We need to have Dr. Dane Logan look at it.”
Chet’s features reddened. He turned to Sam. “This one on the travois has to be the one Doc treated and was gonna take home.”
Sam licked his lips. “I’d say that’s him, all right.”
Tando looked puzzled. “You know about Dr. Dane Logan taking the bullet out of my son’s leg?”
“Yes, I know about it,” Chet said evenly. “It was my son and I who shot at your son. He was with a band of your warriors who were trying to steal our cattle. Your warriors galloped away, and we saw a cavalry unit from Fort Junction chasing them.”
Nandano felt his heart thump against his rib cage as he thought of the incident, which put him and the other warriors with him in the guardhouse at Fort Junction.
Chet went on. “Dr. Logan was at our house to deliver this baby in my daughter-in-law’s arms when your band of warriors came onto the ranch and began to steal our cattle. My son and I did what anyone would do in the situation. We opened fire. Your son was the only one we were able to hit. Dr. Logan removed the bullet from your son’s leg at our house. It was from there that he took him home to your village.”
Chief Tando glanced at Nandano, then set his dark eyes on the older rancher. “May I learn your name, sir?”
“Sure. Chet Drummond.”
“I need to take my son to Dr. Dane Logan, Mr. Chet Drummond, but it is important to me that I make an apology and explain something to you.”
Chet glanced back at Alice. “What do you think?”
“I think we need to hear what the chief has to say.”
Chet swung his gaze to Sherrie, who was still holding her baby close to her heart. “You agree?”
Sherrie nodded.
Chet turned to his son beside him. “Sam?”
“Sounds like something has happened to these Utes that we need to know about, Dad.”
Chet looked at the Indians again, running his gaze between them, then let it settle on Tando. “All right, Chief Tando. We will listen.”
ELEVEN
Chief Tando adjusted his position on the pinto’s back, and the lines in his face seemed to grow deeper as he said, “Mr. Chet Drummond, I am truly sorry that my band of warriors went upon your land and tried to steal your cattle. Always, when my warriors made any kind of hostile move on the whites, it was by my orders. In spite of Chief Ouray’s efforts to convince me that the Utes should no longer make war against the white men many grasses ago, I continued to lead my people to do so, as did a few other Ute chiefs. We were wrong. We did this because we believed that all white people hated us.
“My mind was changed about this when Dr. Dane Logan carried my wounded son home on his horse with him, and Latawga told me how Dr. Dane Logan had saved his life in two ways. First, when he kept you from killing him as he lay wounded on the ground; and second, when he removed the bullet from his leg, bandaged him up, and stopped the bleeding. By this, I knew that Dr. Dane Logan did not hate Indians. I appreciated him even more when I thought of how he brought my son home to the village, not knowing what we might to do him, just because he was a white man.
“Dr. Dane Logan assured me that all white men do not hate Indians, and I was quick to believe him. I want you to know that earlier this week, I traveled to Fort Junction with Dr. Dane Logan and Chief Ouray where I signed a peace treaty with your white man’s government before General Joseph Dayton and Colonel Perry Smith. My people and I are no longer at war with the whites.”
The Drummonds looked at each other, hardly able to believe what they were hearing.
Chet took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, “Chief, it is a bit difficult for me to believe that you have signed a peace treaty, but I sure hope it’s true.”
Tando nodded. “I can understand why you find my words hard to accept. And I think I see this in the rest of your family also. I must get Latawga to Dr. Dane Logan now, but I would like for you and your family to come with me and ask Dr. Dane Logan if I am telling you the truth.”
Sam looked at his father. “Dad, if he’s willing to do this, he must not be lying. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. Let’s go with him and see if Dr. Logan backs up his story.”
Alice and Sherrie had their eyes pinned on Chet as he rubbed the back of his neck and said to Sam, “I don’t know, son. We could run into real trouble by escorting these Indians into town. There are plenty of other people in Central City who are wary of renegade Utes. It would be best if Marshal Merrell were to ride into town with them.”
Alice leaned toward the front seat of the buggy. “Your father is right, Sam. It would be best by far if we could get the marshal to escort them.”
Sam nodded. “Okay. I’ll run into town, find the marshal, take him to Dr. Logan’s office, let the doctor confirm that Chief Tando is telling the truth, then bring the marshal here so he can escort the Indians into town.”
Chief Tando spoke up. “Mr. Chet Drummond, I want to get Latawga to Dr. Dane Logan very soon, but I understand why you are being cautious, and I understand why you want the town’s lawman to know the truth and be the one to take us to Dr. Dane Logan’s office. We will wait here until the marshal comes.”
“I appreciate that, Chief,” said Chet. Then to Sam and the women: “We’ll drive back into town together and find the marshal.”
With that, Chet snapped the reins, turned the buggy around, and drove toward town.
Almost half an hour had passed when Tando and Nandano were bending over the feverish Latawga. Tando was giving him water to drink, and Nandano was wiping his brow with the cloth when they looked up to see the Drummond buggy coming speedily with Marshal Jake Merrell riding beside it.
When they pulled up, Chet stepped out of the buggy while the marshal was dismounting. Chet introduced Marshal Merrell to Chief Tando and Nandano, then Merrell said, “Chief, I want you to know that I did not have to talk to Dr. Logan when Chet and Sam came into town just now. Dr. Logan already told me about you signing the peace treaty at Fort Junction. And I want to say, Chief Tando, that I am very glad that you and your people are no longer at war with white people.”
Tando nodded. “We are glad, too, Marshal Jake Merrell.”
Merrell smiled. “I’ll escort you to the doctor’s office so he can take care of your son.”
The Drummonds headed for their ranch, and Marshal Merrell escorted the Indians toward town.
When Marshal Jake Merrell rode into town beside Chief Tando and Nandano, and their travois bearing the ailing Latawga, people along the street stopped and gawked.
Seeing the astonished and fearful look on their faces, Merrell called out, “All is well, folks! These are not hostile Indians!”
As they drew up to the hitch rail in front of Dr. Logan’s office, Merrell ran his gaze over the faces of the gathering townsfolk and said, “Don’t worry, folks. Chief Tando’s son, here on the travois, needs Dr. Logan’s attention.”
While the marshal and the Indians were dismounting, an elderly woman said to her husband, “Do you think Dr. Logan will actually take care of a savage Indian?”
The old rancher shrugged. “Don’t know, Maisie. If Doc does see to him, he might jist git hisself into a heap o’ trouble. People around here well remember the trouble some o’ these Utes have caused us. Guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens.” A frown creased his leathery skin as he pondered the outcome of the situation.
Inside the office, Thary
n was at her desk when she looked up and saw the marshal coming through the door with the two Indians behind him. The younger one was carrying a pale, feverish Indian, who was younger yet.
Tharyn stood up, finding her knees a bit weak. “Good morning, Marshal. Looks like you have a very sick young man.”
The marshal moved up to the desk. “Hello, Tharyn. I have Chief Tando and Nandano here. The sick young man is Chief Tando’s son, Latawga. Dr. Dane no doubt told you about his taking a bullet out of Latawga’s leg several days ago.”
“Oh, yes.”
Tando set worried eyes on the lady with the auburn hair. “My son’s wound is very much infected. We need to have Dr. Dane Logan see him very soon.”
“Of course, Chief. I am Dr. Logan’s wife, Tharyn. I’ll go tell my husband that you’ve brought Latawga here for treatment. He doesn’t have any patients back there right now.” She wheeled about and quickly disappeared.
When she stepped into the back room, Tharyn found her husband working at the medicine cabinet, mixing powders in a bowl. He glanced over his shoulder. “Hi, sweetheart. Did I hear someone come in?”
“Did you ever! Remember Chief Tando’s son, Latawga? You took a bullet out of his leg at the Drummond ranch, then took him to the village?”
“Of course. Are you telling me—”
“Yes! Jake Merrell just brought Chief Tando in with another Indian named Nandano, who is carrying Latawga. The chief said Latawga’s wound is badly infected.”
Dane dropped the two powder containers and hurried out to the office with Tharyn on his heels. “Hello, Chief Tando … Nandano. Mrs. Logan told me Latawga’s leg wound is infected.”
“Yes,” said Tando. “Very infected.”
“Let’s get him in the back room and have a look.” Dr. Dane smiled at the marshal. “Apparently you escorted them here to the office?”
Merrell nodded. “I’ll explain it to you later. I’ll be going now.”
Tando expressed his thanks to the marshal for his help, then quickly followed Nandano, who carried Latawga into the back room.
Dr. Dane led them to one of the curtained sections and directed Nandano to place Latawga on the examining table.
Tando and Nandano stood close by as Dr. Dane looked at the sweaty Latawga, who was burning up with fever.
While the doctor was examining the infected wound, Chief Tando said, “Last Monday, when you left the bottle of carb—carb—”
“Carbolic acid,” the doctor said without taking his eyes off the wound.
Tando nodded. “Yes. Carbolic acid. My medicine man, Rimago, was about to apply it to the wound that evening, as you had instructed him. But he accidentally dropped the bottle. It struck a rock on the ground and shattered.”
Dr. Dane looked at him. “You should have let me know so I could supply Rimago with another bottle.”
Tando bit his lower lip. “I suggested this to Rimago, but he felt that his own herbal concoction would take care of the infection. As the days passed, he could see that it was not working. Finally, last night, Rimago said we should bring Latawga to you.”
“I’m glad you did. You and Nandano can step outside these curtains here, and sit on a couple of those chairs over there by the wall.”
When the Indians had done as directed, Dr. Dane bent over Latawga. “You just lie as still as you can, all right? I’ll have you feeling better shortly.”
Latawga looked at the doctor with dull eyes and nodded.
Dr. Dane went to work on Latawga to bring his fever down as much as possible before lancing the infected wound.
While he was working at his task, he heard the office door open, and Tharyn’s rapid footsteps coming to the curtained section.
She moved in hastily and said, “Dane, we’ve got trouble outside in front of the office.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Apparently many people saw the Indians carrying Latawga in here, and they are out there on the street giving Marshal Merrell and Deputy Kurtz a hard time for letting them come into town. Mayor Anderson has been summoned.”
Still occupied with his task, Dane sighed. “Oh, yes. Mayor Anderson. I wish I’d had time to get to him and tell him about Chief Tando signing the peace treaty. Will you bring him in to see me when he arrives?”
“Of course.” Tharyn paused before leaving. “Many of those people out there are really angry. Some of them may resent your caring for Latawga.”
“Well, if they do, that’s too bad.”
Tharyn managed a smile. “You’re absolutely the best, darling. The very best.”
Dane took time to turn and look at her. He smiled widely, then went back to work.
Some twenty minutes had passed when Tharyn returned and stepped up to the curtained section where Dr. Dane was laboring over Latawga. “Honey, Mayor Anderson is in the office. I’ve explained to him what’s happening in here. Do you want him to come in right now?”
“Yes. Please send him in.”
Moments later, Mike Anderson stepped up to the opening of the curtains. “Hello, Doc. Your wife said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes. Step in, Mike. I have to keep working here, but I need to explain something to you.”
The mayor moved in, keeping some distance from the table where the patient lay.
While working on Latawga’s wound, the doctor said, “I meant to get to you and tell you about this, Mike, but I just couldn’t work in the time.” He then told him about going to Fort Junction with Chief Tando and Chief Ouray, and of witnessing the peace treaty being signed by Chief Tando before General Joseph G. Dayton and Colonel Perry Smith.
Anderson smiled. “Doc, I’m really glad to know this. I’ll go out there right now and tell that upset crowd about it.”
The doctor looked at the mayor and said, “I’ll be through here in about five minutes. I’d like to go out there and face the people with you.”
Anderson grinned. “Sure. I’ll wait.”
It took just over five minutes for Dr. Dane to finish putting the bandage on Latawga’s wound after lancing and draining it. He gave his patient a sedative, and told him to relax and let it work.
Then with Mayor Anderson at his side, Dane stepped out of the curtained section and approached the Indians, who immediately rose to their feet.
“Chief Tando,” said the doctor, “I’m sure you could hear what my wife told me, and what Mayor Anderson and I have discussed.”
Tando nodded.
“I would like for you to come outside with us and tell the crowd of people that you are no longer their enemy, and that you signed the peace treaty.”
“I will do that, Dr. Dane Logan.”
Dr. Dane turned to Nandano. “Will you stay with Latawga and watch over him? He should be sleeping soon, but I don’t want him to be alone.”
“I will do that.”
“If there is any problem, you come and get me in a hurry, all right?”
“Yes.”
When Dr. Dane, Chief Tando, and the mayor came into the office, Tharyn was standing by the outside door. Dane told her what the chief had agreed to do.
Tharyn smiled. “That will be good. Do you mind if I come out with you?”
“Of course not.”
When the four of them stepped out onto the boardwalk, they heard Marshal Merrell telling a man to cool down and get a grip on his temper. Deputy Len Kurtz was at the marshal’s side. Both lawmen turned to see the mayor, the doctor, the nurse, and the Ute chief step up close to them.
There was fire in the eyes of many of the people in the crowd. Fear showed in the faces of many others.
Mayor Anderson said loud enough for everyone to hear, “I want all of you to listen to what Dr. Logan has to say to you.”
One middle-aged man, face beet red, yelled, “What if we don’t want to listen to the doc? We just want those dirty savages out of our town!”
Merrell pointed a stiff finger at him. “If you continue to act like this, Stuart, you’ll find out what the inside o
f my jail looks like. Now just pipe down and listen.” The marshal then turned to the doctor. “All right, sir. The floor is yours.”
Dr. Dane stepped forward a bit and said, “I ask that you give me your attention. If you will just listen, your anger and your fear will be gone.”
The doctor then told them the whole story, starting with his being at the Drummond ranch delivering Sherrie’s baby boy when the small band of Utes from Chief Tando’s village tried to steal some of the Drummond cattle. He explained how Chet and Sam Drummond opened fire on them, hitting one warrior, and how the cavalry patrol from Fort Junction pursued the other Utes.
“I wish to explain,” Dr. Dane went on, “that the warrior that was wounded was the son of Chief Tando. His name is Latawga.” He paused for a second or two, then pointed to the Indian who stood a step behind him. “This man right here is Chief Tando. He will be speaking to you in a moment.”
The crowd remained silent, for which Dr. Dane was glad.
Dr. Dane said, “Latawga’s wound was in one of his legs. It was bleeding profusely. In order to save his life, I did the necessary surgery to repair and stitch up the wound at the Drummond ranch house. Latawga then asked me to take him home to the village, which I did.”
A grim-faced man in his late forties named Elmer Dines said loudly, “Doc, how could you bring yourself to save the life of a savage Indian who was at war with white people, and who no doubt has killed many whites? He had just tried to steal cattle from the Drummonds. Why didn’t you just let him die?”
“Well, Elmer, as a Christian, I couldn’t just stand by and let Latawga die, even though he was an enemy of the whites. You are a Civil War veteran, Elmer.”
“What’s that got to do with this situation?”
“In the Civil War, when men on either side came upon wounded soldiers of the enemy army, they did what they could to give them medical attention, ease their suffering, and save their lives. Right?”
Dines’s face was a mask of petulance. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
Dines held his lips pressed tightly.