He said now to Soldado, "I tell you this as a friend: If you fight, you will be defeated, and being remembered with distaste you will be treated ill and perhaps be put into prison."
Soldado said, "What is the difference in meaning between these words prison and reservation?"
"You ask many questions."
"I only wish to borrow from the wisdom of the American," Soldado said.
"You may scoff at these words," Flynn said, "but what happens, happens. It is above you and me and will come about regardless of what you do, but I am wise enough to see it."
"Are you wise enough to see your own fate, American?"
"I speak to you as a people."
"And I speak to you as a man. What does this spirit of yours say will happen to you?"
"I could die at this moment," Flynn said. "So could you."
"But who would you say this is more likely to happen to?"
You're not doing this very good, Flynn thought to himself. He always has the last word and makes you feel like a green kid who doesn't know what he's doing. Bowers touched his arm then and as he looked at him Bowers said, "How does he know why we're here?"
"What?"
"You've told him nothing. We could be scalp hunters for all he knows, yet he talks about the reservation. How does he know we came to see him?"
Soldado said, "The silent one wonders how I know of your mission."
In English, Flynn said quickly, "How did you know what he said?"
Soldado shook his head. "No comprendo."
Flynn repeated the question in Spanish and the old Indian smiled faintly. "His question was on his face. It did not need words; though I have been waiting for you to ask it."
"Then you have known of us for some time," Bowers said.
"Since the day you gathered the bodies of the Nakai-yes and returned them to their village. This was not an act of the killers of Indians."
Flynn concealed his amazement. Now he said, "You were very thorough. No one was left alive."
Soldado studied him silently before saying, "Do you believe these words you use?" and when Flynn did not answer, he said, "No, you do not believe them, but you would hear it aloud that we did not kill the Nakai-yes. There is no need however to explain these things to the wise American who is able to see the future."
But it was the past Flynn was seeing as the old Indian spoke. Burned wagon and the lifeless bodies in a narrow draw, and he tried to picture white men having done this. Before, he had been almost certain that this was not the work of Apaches. Still, he could not bring himself to believe that it had been white men. "How do you know who did this?" he said now.
Soldado smiled faintly. "Once, at night, I sat before my jacale and in front of me there was a mound of stones. There were red stones and white stones, which I could see by the light of the fire. And I played this game with myself, taking all of the red stones and placing them here," he said, gesturing with his hands, "and soon, all of the stones remaining before me were white." His smile broadened. "That is how I look into the past, American."
"These men will be punished for their deeds," Flynn said.
"By your government?"
"Yes, by my government. By men who act in its behalf."
"And who are these men?"
"I speak of this one whom I serve," Flynn said, nodding to Bowers, "and myself."
Soldado said, "Yet the one who serves is the spokesman."
"I speak when the ones before us are not worthy of his voice."
"But only worthy of his wonder," the Apache said confidently.
"You will be the one to wonder, soon, when you are a witness to his power."
"And what if you are already dead?"
"Your threat is nothing against the power of this man who is silent. And remember these words well, old man. As the hunters of Indians are destroyed, so will you be. They have already aroused his vengeance, which is what you are doing now. For I swear by the sacred pollen which you carry to ward off evil, that if you do not follow us in peace, you will be dragged to San Carlos behind our horses."
The Apache's face was expressionless. The eyes half closed, sleepily. He stared at Flynn a long moment, then his gaze swung to Bowers and as it did he drew the dragoon pistol from his waistband. He raised it slowly, cocking it, then straightened his arm, aiming the long barrel at Bowers and said, "Where is his power now, American?"
Flynn said nothing.
The Apache lowered the gun, looking toward Flynn again. He said, "Do you speak in the tongue of the Mimbreno?"
Flynn was surprised, but he nodded. "I speak some."
"Good. Then you will come to the rancheria." To Matagente, he said, "You will conduct them with three men. The rest of us will come at night tomorrow when this raid is terminated." He said to Flynn, as explanation, "We have only stopped here for meat."
Flynn was puzzled. He said, "And why is it necessary that I speak Mimbre?"
Soldado smiled, showing yellowed teeth. "So that you may tell our children your story."
10
"I'm leaving now," Rellis said.
Lazair was looking toward the tarp shelter of the cave, following the girl's movements as she gathered the tin plates, scraping and stacking them, and as she picked them up she glanced toward Lazair then turned away quickly when she saw that he was watching her. The two men were standing by the cook fire; Rellis, with his bay mare behind him.
"I said I'm leaving," Rellis repeated, impatiently.
"Well, go on." Lazair still watched the cave, though the girl had gone in now.
"I'm taking some men with me."
Lazair looked at him now. "Are you asking me or telling me?"
"Take it any way you want."
Lazair smiled faintly. "You're pretty tough, aren't you?"
"I get by."
"You'll get by with four men today," Lazair said quietly. "Lew and Warren are going back. Tell Lew to bring two more." He waited, but Rellis made no reply.
"Doesn't that suit you?"
Rellis shrugged lazily, but his eyes were hard on the other man's face. "They tell me you're the boss."
"You don't sound like you're sure of it."
He shrugged again. "You can't believe everything you hear."
There was a silence. Then Lazair said quietly, "Believe it, Frank. Even if you never believe anything else." He turned away then and moved off toward the cave, taking his time.
Rellis mounted the bay, then looked after Lazair a long moment before calling to the men standing off by the horses. They stared up at him idly.
"Lew, you and Warren…and two more!"
Lew Embree nodded to two of the men and one of them said, "We got us another boss." Rellis was moving off and did not hear him. They mounted then, resignedly, and followed Rellis down through the defile to the meadow.
Lew glanced up to the rocks and shouted, "Wesley, you keep awake, now!" to the guard, and then laughed. Warren laughed with him. They crossed the meadow at a trot, but slowed to a walk as the grass sloped over into the pines, beginning the long winding descent. Down farther, where the trail widened, Lew spurred to ride next to Rellis.
"Curt's going to get that girl yet, you wait and see." Lew grinned.
"I don't give a damn who he gets," Rellis answered shortly. Then he said, "How far to the pueblo?"
"About three, four hours," Lew said. "Depending how fast you go."
"I want to get there quick."
"The country ain't built for going too fast. She closes in on you and you can't see ahead in some places."
"I'm not looking for anything."
"But the 'Paches might be looking for you."
Rellis turned on one hip to look at Lew. "You scared of them?"
"Much as anybody else is," Lew said. "It's when you can't see 'em but can feel 'em is when I'm scared. Like just seeing their smoke curling up in the hills and then when you get on ahead there's another smoke rise and you know they're passing the word that you're coming. We was over deeper in the Madres once and we seen this smoke, but we kept going and soon there was this canyon that was still as a tomb-just rocks that went up and up and up and then sky. There wasn't a sound but the horses. Then if you'd listen close, you'd hear the wind playing over the rocks. You'd stretch your neck looking up those walls and there was just that dead stillness…and the hum of the breeze, which you didn't count because it would be there even if nobody was about.