The mountains seemed to hang above the San Pedro River which meandered across the flats below. The view for miles was of a vast scrub covered desert landscape and the river seemed to be the only source of life for this part of the territory, and it was.

Taza had revealed that in winter there was occasional snow at the higher elevations which seemed impossible now as the barren rocks seemed so dry. But as they climbed Darby could see the trees up ahead and looked forward to reaching the shade.

They had left the horses down by the river and hiked for several miles. But because of the animals they would have to return before nightfall and camp along the water.

"What are we going to see?" Darby asked, following Taza around yet another clump of boulders and sliding in the scree of small stones.

"The spirit places are where Apache talk to gods. Chappo has been many times, but he is old and does not come now. My father show me sacred grove when I was a boy and we talk to the spirits."

"People talk to God in church and I saw a lot of that when I was younger. But I don't think God spoke to them. I knew those people and it seems like they had the same bad habits when church was over. Have the spirits spoken to you?"

"No, Darby, I hear no talk from the sky. The spirits enter here and here," Taza said, touching his head and chest.

Finally they were into the trees and Darby was grateful for the shade. Taza had been right about bringing too many things. The rifle and canteen seemed to encumber his every move, and he had no idea how much further they would have to climb.

Darby was hungry, they had eaten no breakfast. Taza said no food until after they had encountered the spirits. That was all well and good because they didn't bring anything to eat, and it sure didn't look as if there was anything around here they could hunt.

The pine forest grew thicker as they moved across the face of the mountain. But the rough rock strewn hillside suddenly changed as Taza quickened his pace. The ground was now covered in needles mixed with a few leaves and Darby looked up.

The ridge of the mountain folded inwards here and they squeezed between two tall boulders. On the far side there was a cluster of larger trees which was the source of the leaves since they were oaks. Darby had seen some of these down by the river, but what were they doing here?

"Our ancestors plant these trees long ago," Taza said.

"But how do they survive up here?"

"Come, I will show you."

The trees seemed spread around a flat plateau and when they reached the center Darby saw the spring. The water must come from higher ground and chose this spot to bubble up to the surface and nourish the trees.

Taza led Darby to the pool formed by the spring, and that's when he saw the stone. Perhaps the small slab of rock had slid down from above, but it was from underneath it that the water seemed to flow. That was unusual enough, but on the stone was a carving.

"What is that?" Darby asked.

"The Wakinyon ... that is not Apache word is Navajo. Our ancestors are the same and symbols come from them. Wakinyon is bird of thunder you see on the stone."

"So the stone was brought here by them."

"I do not know," Taza said. "The Wakinyon is a symbol from the far north Indigo has told me. Many people moved south and came to live in cliff houses near the great canyon in the Navajo lands."

"So you know those people ... what are they like?"

Taza smiled. "The Navajo are farmers and they raise sheep."

"Well, so do you."

"It was not always this way. The Apache are hunters and warriors, that is why there was fighting with the white man ... until now. Goyathlay was the last great warrior chief."

"I don't know him," Darby said.

"You would know his name as Geronimo. He is of a different clan than my family and my father thinks he was a fool. So many of his people died and now he is a broken old man kept on the reservation in Oklahoma. The spirits cannot be pleased with him."

"I don't know your religion," Darby said. "These spirits you talk about, are they gods?"

"The Creator of all things is called Ussen. The spirits are not gods but they can be good or bad. The Apache watch over the land. We are the Nide, the people Ussen created."

Taza sat down beside the pool of water and Darby joined him. The grove of oaks, the water and even the grass he sat upon made this place seem like an oasis in the desert. The silence that surrounded them made Darby take notice of the details.

"Chappo say man can feel his beginning in this place," Taza said. "The power and courage of a warrior comes from spirits who fought many battles at the beginning time. Our ancestors are now spirits but our battle is different. A warrior must learn new ways to reach power and protect the people."

"But now the Apache have peace ... why do you need warriors?"

"If clan is weak others will come and steal what is ours. There is still no trust with white man's government."

"I see that," Darby said. "You know about the Civil War, don't you?"

"Indigo say white man fight each other over black slaves, many die. Black man wins freedom. No one fight for freedom of Indians, we have no friends."

"Indigo is a good friend, and so am I," Darby said.

"You leave friends behind when you come here?"

"Mostly family, I didn't have that many friends. I should write home and tell them where I am."

"They do not know?" Taza asked.

"No ... well, I left rather suddenly. I didn't know what to expect here except that Sean said I had to come. I'm glad he did."

"If this was bad you would go home?"

"I ... I don't think so," Darby said. "The big city was familiar but not to my liking. Too many people in one place. But I am learning to like where I am, and your people make me feel welcome ... you make me feel welcome."

Taza smiled. "This is good ... Sean would say this is good."

Darby sighed. "I still feel his loss. Of my whole family he was the closest to me, and yet it seems I did not understand him very well."

"Some man things do not leave room for woman," Taza said. "Apache know about Sean and his man, it was not a bad thing. Boys learn about such things while young but then marry, some never marry."

"The Apache think that sex between men is okay?"

"Between boys is part of nature, but men ... I do not know."

"So you have experience with other boys ... "

"Yes, Nantan and Tarak show me sex things before I reach manhood. I watch them with girls. Even Sonsee knows how big Tarak is between his legs ... but you do not look happy."

"No, it's just not the same in my world. You see it as a natural way to learn about sex, but my people think it is forbidden unless you are married."

Taza laughed. "That is silly, how do you learn of natural ways?"

"Most boys break the rules, but I never did," Darby said.

Taza frowned and placed a hand on Darby's shoulder. "I feel bad for you. Apache way is better."

Taza had allowed Darby to soak up the feelings of this holy place before he started to hum. Darby looked at him as Taza started a chant song that went on for five minutes until he was done. Then he leaned over and cupped water from the pool in his hands and offered it to the four corners of the world before pouring it over his head.

Darby had no idea what Taza had said or what the gesture with the water meant but he understood it was an ancient tradition.

"I sing to the mountain spirits who live in this place. I told you the Nide are people of the land and this place is in my heart. When Darby becomes Apache he will see the dance we make for the spirits."

Darby smiled. "I will watch the dance ... just don't ask me to do it."

Taza laughed. "I am bad dancer so I beat drum and my father is happy."

They spent the afternoon talking about anything and everything they could think of. Darby described his early life at the racetrack and that seemed to fascinate Taza. Of course it would, the boy knew his horses.

The hike back down to the river was welcome because Darby was hungry and he still didn't know what they would be eating. Branna was standing in the shade with the ends of her tether hanging down from the halter where she had chewed her way through the rope. Indigo was right, there was no way to tie up this horse.

Taza scooped out a shallow pit in the riverbank and told Darby to collect some wood for a fire. Then he stripped off his pants and shirt before wading into the water. Going for a swim, Darby thought as he collected sticks, but Taza was on the hunt.

As a city boy Darby had never been fishing, he didn't even know how it was done. But as he watched Taza slowly waded along the bank and paused, looking intently into the shallow pools along the shore. His hands moved fast as he plunged them into the water and then tossed a fish up onto the bank where it flopped around. In about ten minutes he had two fish for their supper. It was an amazing display of skill.

Taza chose a flat rock to clean the fish and then skewered them with green sticks cut from a willow tree. In no time they were cooking over the small fire.

"You like fish?" Taza asked.

"About as good as anything else," Darby said. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Indigo and father take me upriver to watch bear hunt fish. This is how I learn."

"What else do you hunt?"

"Catch rabbit with trap, shoot deer and wild pig, takes time. Fish is quick dinner."

"I can see that," Darby said. "I'm not much of a cook. In the city we have restaurants that serve most any kind of food you want. I suppose you'll have to teach me how to hunt."

Taza looked around at the river and surrounding trees. "The Creator give Apache many kinds of animals to hunt ... and some of them hunt us. Hunter must read signs to find animal and river is good place to see them."

"Of course, everything needs water to live."

"Eat fish and I show you signs," Taza said.

The meat of the fish just about fell off of the bones. It could have used some salt and next time they camped out like this Darby knew he would have to bring other things to balance out the meal. But this was Taza's world and the boy knew how to survive in it.

As the evening approached they walked the river bank. Taza pointed out animal tracks, most of them small and indistinct. The trees that lined the river would provide cover for the game as it sought water.

"Some animals come at dark or early in morning," Taza said. "Wind moves and carries scent of hunter ... animals will not come if they smell us. But look, here we have tracks of deer."

"Will we see them here?" Darby asked.

"No, we make too much noise and wind goes wrong way. Bad to shoot deer for only two people, waste meat. Tomorrow I find a rabbit, eat good."

Darby was sure he could eat a rabbit but didn't think he could shoot a deer. Hunting was Taza's way of life, something he would have to get used to. There were a whole lot of things he would have to learn to accept and Taza seemed willing to teach him.

On the streets of the city a boy who didn't have skills was ridiculed and bullied. Taza could have felt pity for the lack of survival skills Darby displayed but he didn't. There was something about his patience and desire to teach how things were properly done ... it was how Taza treated him that mattered so very much.

Indigo had suggested Darby might take his share of the money and run, but that wasn't going to happen. Sean had made an investment in these people and become one of them. It was the least Darby could do to follow through on his uncle's legacy, and with Taza's help he could succeed.

The sun faded over the hills and they returned to the campsite. It was still quite warm as the surrounding desert only slowly gave off the heat it accumulated during the day. Darby wondered if they should have a fire going while they slept to keep off the predators, but then they had Branna to keep watch.

Taza took off his boots and waded into the river with his clothes on.

"Come, wash dust off clothes and we put in trees to dry," Taza said.

Darby shucked his boots and emptied his pockets before joining Taza in the water. Piece by piece they removed their clothes and scrubbed the fabric in the flowing stream of water. Taza started a pile on the riverbank and pretty soon they were naked and floating on the current.

Taza pointed at the stars. "Indigo say small lights are from many suns."

"A star is a sun that is many millions of miles away," Darby said.

"Millions is big number ... who can count that high?"

"What did the Apache think stars were? I imagine there must be some explanation in your people's stories."

"Ussen the Creator make world and all we see in four days. Indigo says the Christian god make everything in seven days. Both stories good, but give no answer to why there are stars in night sky."

"The stars are always there, except in daylight we cannot see them," Darby said.

"You learn much in school," Taza said. "We have no school. Boys learn Apache ways from Chappo and elders when small. But Indigo teach many things elders do not know, he is wise man."

"Yes he is," Darby agreed. "I went to school but I think I learned more from reading books than from anything else. In the city we have a library filled with thousands of books. That's where I learned about Arizona and the Indians."

"They have book about Apache?"

"No, not really, but I hope someday they will. The white man still doesn't understand your people. But if you could write a book about the Apache what would you say?"

"I would say the Nide are the first people in this world," Taza said. "Ussen chose the Nide to ... but would the white man believe these words?"

"Some would," Darby replied. "It would be a difficult book to write because everything you believe would have to be explained."

"The creation is a long and difficult story, but every Apache knows. I am of two minds about the stories ... this is what Indigo says to me. The old ways Chappo believes are good for him and many of the people but they do not explain all things I want to know."

"I understand ... this is why you need me," Darby said.

Taza smiled and placed his hands on Darby's shoulders. "Darby bring many understandings." And then Taza pulled him into an embrace.

Darby thought about that hug and the other things Taza had told him as they sat around the small fire. Bathing had washed away the dust from their bodies and their clothes, but it left them naked. The shirts and pants were hung on the bushes but would not be dry until morning.

The darkness around them was quiet but not silent and Darby kept his rifle close at hand. His fears were not reflected by Taza and that was comforting especially when he saw movement along the river bank.

"Coyote," Taza said. "They will not come near."

"You know the habits of all the animals?"

"Apache do not fear nature, we are part of it. Life of animals and man are much same. They hunt food to feed family ... " And Taza laughed. "They are careful not to become food for others. Man does not eat coyote, they know this. But they are part of old stories Chappo tells because they ... they fool others ... trick, this is the word."

"They are very much like wild dogs," Darby said.

"Yes, but dog trust man, coyote do not. Mother coyote will attack man or other animals to defend babies, but they are shy and like to stay hiding. The stories say they are smart. I tell you story."

"Please," Darby said.

And Taza said: A coyote lies in bush and listens as two Indian boys talk about making trap for him. He sees them make large bag to catch coyote. They tie bag to tree and put dried meat on ground making trail into bag. String is tied to meat so coyote must go inside bag to eat, and when he pulls on string the bag will close shut. And so boys go in bush to hide.

Boys are there all afternoon waiting and get sleepy. They lie down and soon not watching bag as they sleep. The coyote sniffs out the meat and eats small pieces on ground but does not go into bag. Instead he walks to river and drinks water, and there he meets skunk.

"I have just had the most wonderful dinner," the coyote tells the skunk.

"I would love to have a big dinner," the skunk says, "but all I have eaten today is some small bugs."

"Oh, this is not good, you need meat to grow big and strong."

"I do, but where am going to find it?" the skunk says."

"There is still some meat left over from my dinner," the coyote says. "I have hidden the rest in a large bag, but I will tell you how to find it."

"You are very kind. Please show me the way."

The coyote leads the skunk to the tree where the bag is tied and points at the opening.

"Can you not smell the wonderful meat inside?" the coyote asks."

"I can, and thank you very much," the skunk replies."

Skunk enters the bag and starts to eat the meat, pulling on the sting and closing the bag.

"Oh no, I am trapped," the skunk calls out."

"I will call for help," the coyote says and he howls loud enough to wake the Indian boys and then runs to hide.

The boys run to the bag and see something inside struggling to get out. They jump on the bag and open it only to see the behind of a skunk just as it sprays them. The coyote rolls on the ground in laughter as the boys run for the river."

Taza smiled. "There is lesson here, Chappo say. Do not try and fool the coyote or you will get a skunk instead."

Darby laughed at the story. "Does Chappo have many stories to tell?"

"Many stories he teaches the children. He has been doing this a long time."

Darby thought about that. "The old man has great wisdom, but who will tell the stories when he is gone?"

"I do not know," Taza said. "Perhaps a woman from our clan will marry into another and we will find a new medicine man. Indigo is adopted as Apache ... he could take Chappo's place."

"I don't see him doing that, but you never know what the future holds."

"What does your future hold?" Taza asked.

Darby sighed. "I can see tomorrow but not the future ... there are just too many new things I have just learned. My friendship with you and your people will help me decide. But what of your future, Taza?

"If you go with me to Denver and California there will be a lot you can see and learn. That knowledge will help you decide how the Apache and the white man will live together. If your future is to be Chief of your clan then these will be important things to you and your family."

"I hope my father agrees," Taza said.

They finally bedded down for the night, the two of them on Darby's bedroll covered with Taza's blanket. This is the way things had become and neither of them spoke of it as being anything but a sleeping arrangement.

Darby wasn't sure when he surrendered the concern that others might see this as unnatural. Although the second bed remained in the house Taza never slept in it. But the feelings of Taza beside him in bed were comforting, and even more so out here in the open darkness beside the river.

It had taken some time for Darby to realize he admired Taza. It was more than the intelligence evident in the boy's mind ... he was also a caring person. Physically they were much the same in height and mass, although their features were so different.

Taza's long black hair was cut straight across the back and was usually held in place with a bandana worn in a band across his forehead. This was the traditional look of the Apache men of his clan although Darby had no idea what other clans might do.

His large brown eyes were set wide on either side of a nose that might look a little flat, but then Darby had the same feature thanks to the number of times it had been broken in childhood fights. But perhaps Taza's best feature was his smile, and he was generous in showing Darby that attribute.

The combination of these factors had taken a while to sink in, but now Darby understood he had genuine affection for the boy ... and Taza seemed to feel the same way. That was comforting out here in the wilds of the territory where the city boy depended upon the skills of a young warrior to survive.

But if he took the Apache out of his element and into the greater world of white men then the shoe would be on the other foot. It would be best to begin preparations for the planned trip and in doing so Darby had to begin educating Taza about the places and things he would see.

Indigo had advised him that there would be ignorance and perhaps hatred from many people they would meet. The Indian was still the object of derision in many parts of society. Darby hoped that by meeting a native that the prejudice could be overcome with reason. If that didn't work there was always the derringer.

They arose with the sun and dressed for the day. Taza used his knife to cut some small saplings and began to strip the bark. This he braided into several thin ropes about eight feet long. Following along with curiosity, Darby watched as Taza searched the brush away from their camp for animal signs.

"Tracks of the rabbit here," Taza said, pointing at the disturbed soil in one place.

"How do you know it's a rabbit?" Darby asked.

"Animal moves slow ... he is scared. Feet in front make mark while back feet slide."

"They hop. So that leaves a distinct trail."

"Yes, and rabbit always use same trail to reach water ... not smart, makes trap easy."

Taza bent over a young willow sapling and attached one end of his rope. The other end was tied in a noose and fixed to the ground with sticks. Taza scattered part of the carcass from the fish they had eaten the night before around in the brush and stood back to admire his handiwork.

"Why the fish?" Darby asked.

"Smell not attract rabbit but hide our scent and make animal think ... what is this? His nose smells fish while his eyes do not see danger in noose on ground. Rabbit will move and hop across noose, sticks pull free and tree spring up. Rope catches rabbit."

"I see ... and this works every time?" Darby asked.

Taza laughed. "No, sometimes they escape and we go hungry. This is why I make three traps." They spent the rest of the morning wandering the forest of trees along the river bank and at the base of the mountains. Here and there Taza pointed out plants that could be eaten and others that could not. It seems they could have had other food to go with the rabbits they hoped to catch, except they had not brought a pot to cook things in.

But Taza dug up roots to chew on, and there were berry bushes loaded with fruit. Many of the Apache were now farmers but Darby could see how a careful village might eat of nature's bounty and survive. The berries were delicious and provided a tasty breakfast.

There was evidence of other campfires here and there, sites that Taza inspected closely. Most of them he declared were from his people who had gone hunting and stopped for the night. It had not occurred to Darby that there might be others moving across the land, either bands of Indians or white hunters, but Taza spotted them.

"This is an old white man's fire," Taza said, pointing at a jumble of stones near the base of the mountain.

"How can you tell?"

"Flat stone here is where someone put can of food to heat before eating."

"Is it that simple? I never would have figured it out," Darby said.

Taza dug in the soil by the remains of the fire pit, pulled out a rusty can and then laughed.

"White man always leave something behind. If Indian had done this he would take can back to his village for the women to make something with metal."

"I wonder who did this?" Darby said.

"Men look in hills for silver, we see them," Taza said. "One man with mule is no threat to us, there are many like that from here to the north. They come from Tucson. I have never seen this city ... is it big?"

"No, not compared to others. But the train goes through there and that's where I stopped to come here. You'll get to see it if we go to Denver."

"I think we should go look at rabbit traps," Taza said, and headed back towards the river.

Darby could tell Taza had changed the subject. He was probably uncomfortable about leaving his village for any great length of time. That could be understood, the boy had never been anywhere else but here.

Darby knew he would have to build up Taza's interest in other places, just as he had studied before his trip west. Knowledge would build confidence and ease the fears of the unknown. That being said, Taza had caught two rabbits and then asked that they return to the village to clean and cook them. Yes, the boy was able and perfectly adapted to surviving in this environment ... Darby would have to work on the rest.


On to Chapter Eight

Back to Chapter Six

Chapter Index

Chris James Home Page

"Indigo and the Cowboy" Copyright © Chris James. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

Home Page | Authors | Stories by the Writer Suggested Reading | Suggested Viewing | Links Privacy Policy | Terms of Service Send a Comment All Site Content © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer unless otherwise noted Layout © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer