Always, I had planned to roam, to be free, to move as I wished, when I wished, but when one has a wife and children that is no longer possible, and when one has possessions he is as often possessed by them as possessing them.
Here it was warm and quiet, here was peace and comfort, here were my few friends.
But what could Ido?
First, to meet them outside. To hold them up in their march, to nibble away at their confidence, to lessen their numbers.
We had a good supply of arrows. We had extra spears. We knew the line of effective range for our bows. We had cut back trees and brush so any attacker must step into the open before he was within effective range of our walls. By night we had no such protection.
We had the small caltrops we had used before, and something else besides. During the summer, with something of this in mind, we had collected and dragged back to the fort many spined leaves of prickly pear and hedgehog or strawberry cactus. Knocking them loose and picking them up with forked sticks, we had piled many upon a skin and then dragged them back to the fort. Now, working in darkness and with forked sticks, we scattered them in the grass around the fort. The caltrops might stop a charge by horsemen, but these would stop men on foot wearing moccasins, which many of the Spanish soldiers now wore.
It was little enough. We had no protection against fire arrows, and they would certainly be used.
'We must rest now,' I said at last. 'Tomorrow Keokotah and I will go out to meet Diego. Then we shall see.'
Now would my pistols be useful. There was ammunition enough to reload at least twice, and each pistol was good for twelve shots. It might be enough.
Yet even I, who am a good shot, will miss as often as I hit when shooting at moving, attacking enemies, some wearing partial armor. If I scored with even one-third of my shots I should be fortunate, fortunate indeed.
We slept, and on this night there was no red-eyed monster, and I slept soundly and well, but in the last gray light I slipped from under the robes and dressed quickly.
Bathing my hands and face, I gathered my weapons and started for the door. Komi was there, and for a moment we stood, holding hands and looking at each other. Then I took her in my arms. 'Do not fear. I shall come back.'
'I do not fear, and when you come, I shall be waiting.'
Paisano was waiting. I put my crude saddle in place, mounted, and rode out the gate, which Itchakomi closed after me.
Trusting to Paisano's keen senses, I started south, knowing the country but letting him pick his way. Riding, I kept alert for the smell of smoke from the campfire of Diego.
Dawn was sending its first crimson arrows into the sky before I caught the smell of smoke. Then crossing a low hill I saw the glow of fire. Drawing up, I studied the small camp.
Men were up and moving about, loading packs on animals. They were less than four miles south of our fort. I recognized the tall, lean figure of Diego and rode closer, calling him by name.
'Is it you, then?' He walked toward me and then stopped abruptly. 'What--!'
'It is all right,' I said. 'I ride a bull.'
Swinging down I walked forward, the great beast following me. Paisano had grown into a huge, powerful bull, more than six feet at the hump and weighing well over two thousand pounds, perhaps closer to three thousand.
Diego swore and then spat. 'What next will you do? What next?'
'I'll buy what you have to sell, if that is what you've come for. Unless you want a fight you'd better leave before Gomez comes. He's not far behind you.'
'The Kickapoo told me. If he wants a fight he can have one.' He paused, looking into my eyes. 'I cannot join you, but if he attacks me, and you should attack him at the same time ...'
'It could happen,' I said, 'but first the goods.'
Gomez was nowhere in sight when we reached the fort. We drove the pack mules through the gate, but I permitted only Diego and one man inside.
With two of the Natchee watching from the high ports, Diego displayed his goods. Four axes, four shovels, a crosscut saw, several bushels of colored beads, two dozen hatchets, and various other tools and equipment, including an adz. There were also three mule-loads of brightly colored cloth.
'Tools for your own use,' Diego said, 'and trade goods.'
In my belt I had two dozen gold coins of Spanish origin, but I wished not to use them. My father had given them to me before we had parted at Shooting Creek, and I would hold them against some greater emergency than this. Yet there were hides we had, buffalo robes, and a few ingots of silver, melted down from the purest silver I could find while making balls for my pistols.
We bargained, but not too sharply on my part, for I wished him to do well. If he did well he would come again, and without him I had no source of supply.
At the end I threw in another ingot of silver, weighing almost a pound. 'Come again, Diego, in the spring. We will make good trade, you and I.'
A voice called down from above, and Itchakomi said, 'They come!'
When the soldier had driven the mules outside, Diego turned quickly to me. 'A gift,' he said, placing a packet in my hand, 'and if they find out I gave you this it is a hanging matter.'
In that instant he turned and ducked through the gates and was gone. Outside I heard a clatter of feet as they drove the mules away.
The gate swung shut and I took the package and went inside.
Keokotah was outside, away in the hills that he loved, and he would fight from there as he wished.
Placing the packet on the table, I looked to my guns, and then I climbed to the high ports to look down the valley.
Diego was nowhere in sight, so they must have fled up the canyon behind us. Gomez was outside. From the trees he called out. 'Surrender now and we will let you go free! Lay down your weapons and come out!'
Long ago my father had said, 'Never give up your weapons. I know of no case where weapons were surrendered that was not followed by a massacre.'
The packet on the table drew my attention. Opening it I looked down ... gunpowder! Several pounds of it.
'Thanks, Diego,' I said. 'Gracias!'
Chapter Thirty-Nine.
To Gomez I made no reply. Of one thing I was sure--no matter what other outcome this attack might have, one of us, Gomez or I, would die before it was ended. I wished only peace, and I felt sure that left to our own devices I could arrange a peace with the Utes. Only Gomez stood between us and the life I wished us to lead.
He shouted again, demanding our surrender. The skies were gray now, although heavy with clouds over the western mountains. The trees stood out, stark and black against the gray. The shadows of men, or rather their dark forms that seemed like shadows, moved at the edge of the woods and on the meadows below, reminding me of those other shadows, the dancing shadows in the cave.
Unbidden there came to mind the voice that had seemed to speak from where the skin-wrapped bodies lay. An eerie feeling as of some effort at communication had come to me, and standing alone in the silence I had asked if there was anything I could do.
A foolish thing, to speak into an empty cave where lay only the mummified bodies of the long dead, but as I had turned away I had heard, or had seemed to hear, a voice saying, 'Find them!'
Find who? Where? Why?
Waiting in the darkness of the fort, the air soft with impending rain, I remembered, and was sad.
What had the dead left undone? Had they spoken? Or had the voice only been in my brain? Had there been some communication, some desperate wish, some great desire that lived beyond death?
I, who might die this day, thought of that. What desire could be so driving, so compelling that it lived beyond death?
