“Oh, we’re in New Mexico,” Bigfoot said. “We just ain’t in the right part of it, yet. My eyes are improving, at least. Pretty soon I won’t have to be led.”
Bigfoot’s eyes did improve, even as their bellies grew emptier. On the third day after the storm, he was able to take his blinders off in the late afternoon. Soon afterward, he found a small patch of wild onions and dug out enough for them to have a few each to nibble. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
The next morning, waking early, Gus saw the mountains. At first, he thought the shapes far to the north might be clouds?storm clouds. Once the sun was well up, he saw that the shapes were mountains. Call saw them, too. Bigfoot still had to be careful of his eyes in full light?he wanted to look, but had to give up.
“If it’s the mountains, then we’re saved, boys,” he said. “There’s got to be people between here and the hills.“They walked all day, though, without food?the mountains seemed none the less distant.
“What if we ain’t saved?” Gus whispered to Call. “I’m hungry enough to eat tongue, or bugs, or anything I can catch. Them mountains could be fifty miles away, for all we know. I ain’t gonna last no fifty miles?not unless I get food.”
“I guess you’ll last if you have to,” Call told him. “Bigfoot says we’ll come to villages before we get to the hills. Maybe it will only be twenty miles?or thirty.”
“I could eat my belt,” Gus said. He actually cut a small slice off his belt and ate it, or at least chewed it and swallowed it. The result didn’t please him, though. The little slice of leather did nothing to relieve his hunger pangs.
They walked steadily all day, toward the high mountains. They ignored their stomachs as best they could?but there were moments when Call thought Gus might be right. They might starve before they reached the villages. Bigfoot had taken a fever somehow? most of the day he stumbled along, delirious; he seemed to think he was talking to James Bowie, the gallant fighter who had died at the Alamo.
“We ain’t him, we’re just us,” Gus told him several times, but Bigfoot kept on talking to James Bowie.
Toward the evening of that day, as the shadows from the mountains stretched across the plain, Gus thought he saw something encouraging?a thin column of smoke, rising into the shadows. He looked again, and again he saw smoke.
“It’s from a chimney,” he said. “There’s a house with a chimney up there somewhere.”
Gus saw the smoke, too, and Bigfoot claimed he smelled it.
“That’s wood smoke, all right,” he said. “I reckon it’s pinon. They use pinon for fires, out here in New Mexico.”
They hurried for three miles and still weren’t to the village. Just as they were about to get discouraged again, they came over a little rise in the ground and saw forty or fifty sheep, grazing on the plain ahead. A dog began to bark?two sheepherders, just making their campfire, looked up and saw them. The sheepherders were unarmed and took fright at the sight of the three Rangers.
“I expect they think we’re devils,” Bigfoot said, as the two sheepherders hurried off toward a village, a mile or two away. The sheep they left in care of the two large dogs, both of whom were barking and snarling at the Texans.
“They didn’t need to run?I’m just glad to be here,” Gus said. In fact, he was so moved by the sight of the distant houses that he felt he might weep. Crossing the prairie he had often wondered if he would ever see a house again, or sleep in one, or ever be among people again at all. The empty spaces had given him a longing for normal things?women cooking, children chasing one another, blacksmiths shoeing horses, men drinking in bars. Several times on the journey, he had thought such things were lost forever?that he would never get across the plain to sit at a woman’s table again. But now he had.
Call was glad to come to the village, too. He had been hearing about New Mexico for months, and yet, until they spotted the sheepherders, had not seen a single Mexican. He had begun to doubt that there were towns in New Mexico at all.
“I wouldn’t mind stopping and cooking one of them sheep right now,” Bigfoot said. “I guess that wouldn’t be friendly, though. Maybe they’ll cook one for us, once they see we ain’t devils.”
“They may think we’re devils, even if we’re friendly,” Gus said. “I could use a barbering, and so could the rest of you.”
Call knew he was right. They were filthy and shaggy. They had only their guns and the clothes they had on. And they were afoot. Who but devils would emerge from the great plain afoot?
They gave the sheep a wide berth?the big dogs acted as if they might charge at the slightest provocation; none of them felt in the mood for a dogfight.
“I have always wondered why people keep dogs,” Bigfoot said. “Now, the Indians, they eat puppies, and a puppy might be tasty. But a big dog is only a step from being a wolf, and it’s foolish to get too close to wolves.”
The village consisted of about twenty houses, all of them made of brown adobe. Long before the three of them arrived, the whole village had gathered to watch their approach. The men, the women, and the children stood in one group, clearly apprehensive. One or two of the men had old guns.
“By God, I guess Caleb could conquer this state, if he gets here,” Bigfoot said. “They don’t even have a gun apiece, and I doubt they know how to shoot, anyway.”
“Don’t be talking of conquering them,” Gus said. The mention of mutton had made him realize how hungry he was. He didn’t want to lose his chance for a good meal because of any foolish talk about military matters. Let the conquering wait until they had eaten their fill.
“Wave at them, let them know we’re friendly,” Bigfoot said. “They don’t look hostile, but there might be a show-off who wants to impress a gal. That’s usually what starts a fight, in situations like this.”
They walked into the village slowly, giving evident signs that their intentions were friendly. Some of the little children hid their faces in their mothers’ skirts. Most of the women kept their faces down? only a few bold little girls stared at the strangers. The men stood still as statues.
“This is when I wish I was better at the Spanish lingo,” Bigfoot said. “I know some words, but I can’t seem to get my tongue around them right.”
“Just name off some grub,” Gus advised. “Frijoles or tortillas or cabrito or something. I’m mostly interested in getting a meal and getting it soon.”
They walked on, smiling at the assembled people, until they were at the center of the little village, near the common well. A bucket of water had just been brought up?Bigfoot looked around and smiled, before asking if they might drink.
“Agua?” he asked. He addressed the question to an old man standing near the well. The old man looked embarrassed?he didn’t raise his eyes.
“Certainly?you may drink your fill?it’s a very long walk from Texas,” a forceful voice said, from behind them.
They turned to see ten muskets pointed at them. A little group of militia had been hiding behind one of the adobe houses. The man who spoke stood somewhat to the side. He wore a military cap, and had a thin mustache.
“What’s this? We just want a drink,” Bigfoot said. He looked chagrined. Once again, they had been easily ambushed.
“You can have the drink, but I must ask you to lay down your arms, first,” the large man said, firmly.
“Who are you?” Bigfoot asked. “We just walked in. We’re friendly. Why point a bunch of guns at us?““I am Captain Salazar,” the man said. “Lay down your weapons, and you will come to no harm.”
Bigfoot hesitated a moment?so did Gus and Call. Although ten rifles were pointed at them, at a distance of no more than thirty feet, they didn’t want to lay down their arms.
There was dead silence in the village for several moments, while the Rangers considered the order. Captain Salazar waited?he was smiling, but it was not a friendly smile. The soldiers had their rifles ready to fire.
“Now, this is a fine welcome,” Bigfoot said, hoping to get the man into a conversation. If they talked a minute, he might ease off.
“Serior, it is not a welcome,” Captain Salazar said. “It is an arrest. Please lay down your arms.”
Bigfoot saw it was hopeless.
“If that’s your opinion, I guess it wins the day,” he said. He laid down his guns.
After a moment, Call and Gus did the same. A soldier ran over and took the weapons.
