Macho Caballo Chapter 22                   4/4/98     18

                        MACHO CABALLO

                  PART2:  CHAPTER VEINTIDOS

         THE ROAD TO POWER BEGINS WITH A SINGLE STEP



CLOWNS TO THE LEFT OF ME, JOKERS TO THE RIGHT:

Night fell swiftly on the desert, and both pursuers and
pursued stopped and bedded down to wait for dawn.  While the
posse built an open fire, the small band of desperados kept
their tiny blaze hidden.  All were aware that they were safe
only as long as they could keep out of sight.

Alboro slurped his coffee loudly and began, "When I was a
young warrior, not so very long ago..."  He looked about the
circle of faces reflecting firelight to see if anyone
appreciated his little joke.  No one was smiling.

"Hmmphhh..." he continued, "When I was a young warrior, I
roamed through these lands like the wind.  I went
everywhere.  I knew these hills like the back of my hand.
There is no way that sheriff could have gotten ahead of us."

"Wolfwalker saw another fire, in the canyons up there," said
Ramon, "*Somebody* is ahead of us!  We do not need another
tale - we need a way out of here!"

The old man yawned, "You say they are camped behind us?"

"That is what we said," Red Cloud nodded.  She glanced
worriedly at Ramon who was poking at the fire, contemplating
their fates.

"I see.  And there is a fire up ahead, also.  How do you
think they got ahead of us?"

Ramon looked up and said wearily, "Did you ever think they
might know these hills better than you?  They have us pretty
well bottled in, here."

"Guess I can't do anything, right now," sighed Alboro, "I
think I'm gonna take a nap."  He lay back and pulled his
serape over him.  He was instantly asleep.

[Great.  That is just like him,] thought Ramon, [here we are
in trouble and he has to sleep!]  Estrellita came close. She
draped a serape over his shoulders and leaned toward him.

"I hope you aren't worrying about us.  We'll get through all
right," she said with the tiniest shiver in her bravado.

Ramon touched her shoulder, "I am sorry you had to get
caught out here in this," he said, "Maybe we should have
left you at the village."

Her chin came up in defiance, "Well, I'm not!" she said, "I
belong with you guys!"  She touched his fingers, withdrew
her hand and added, "I wanted to ask, though... Are you all
right?  Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ramon went back to spreading the coals.

"We used to have such fun, together," she said softly.  "I
always thought we would do everything that way.  Guess we
were just kids.  Are you really okay?"

"I could use a little reassurance from my abuelo, there.
Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing," she said.  Noticing Sandy pacing outside the
rim of firelight, she went to talk to him.

Ramon covered himself with the serape, feeling the chill of
the air.  He intended to get up shortly and relieve
Wolfwalker at guard.  He did not intend to go to sleep.




REUNIONS:

Somewhere ahead of them, deeper in the hills, another fire
was burning brightly.  Cinders leapt up the column of heated
air rising from the campfire.  The two men there had not
bothered to use a small blaze.  They did not care if anyone
saw.

"You leave a trail like a wounded cow," growled the husky
warrior, "Did you *want* me to find you?"

Espuma smiled vaguely, "You know where I am," he said
smoothly, "As I can always find you.  We are both parts of
the same magical creature."

Machack shuddered.  He lifted a gnarled tree trunk and
shredded it.  The exercise seemed to calm him.  "I prefer to
think we are the upper and lower halves," he growled,
"Perhaps it is time to see if one can live without the
other."

Espuma shifted uneasily and said, "That should not be
necessary.  I was sent to help you.  You have Kaliche's
word."

"I did not ask for your assistance, vile one," Machack's
words spilled out like gravel from a mine chute, "Why did
you precede me?  To get your dishonorable hands on Kaliche's
appointed offering?"

"Do I detect a bit of jealousy, bloodbrother?  What will you
do with the others, once you have the girl in your hands?  I
have seen how you 'test' anyone you consider promising.  Do
you hope to find one, someday, who can best you?" Espuma
said with a sly smile, "Or do you hope to mate with a female
survivor?"

Machack's brow knotted like a thundercloud.  "Some day I
will test you," he promised, "You had best be ready."

"I will try not to shiver with anticipation," said Espuma
drily, "But can you tell me why we need to antagonize each
other when we have others to occupy ourselves?"

"You try to distract me," Machack said.  The frown remained
on his face, but the corners of his mouth twitched as his
mind worked.  "I would like to start with the blue-eyed
one," he said finally.

"Exactly!" Espuma almost purred.  "May I watch?"





A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE IS A DANGEROUS THING:

Ramon stood and walked out of the classroom, ignoring the
stares of the other boys in his class.  Alboro rapped the
side of his desk sharply with his rod, calling him back to
his bench seat.  Ramon also ignored him.

Ramon understood that he was dreaming.  Still, he felt
earthbound.  The fragment of a moon gave enormous light as
the school hallway changed into corridors of boulders, and
he stepped over gravel that crunched beneath his sandals.
The sky was a bold, deep blue, brimming with stars.  A cool
breeze fluttered at the narrow-leaved bushes.

For a moment someone walked beside him, and when he looked,
Ramon thought he recognized Mud Wallow, the ill-kempt old
man who had helped cure Dona Mercedes.

"I suppose you are here to get some power," the old healer
said.

"That's my abuelo's idea," said Ramon, "It does not matter
to me."

The teacher's rod whacked his arm.  "You are not paying
attention," said Mud Wallow, who was ambling along on the
other side.

Ramon looked about warily, but there was no one else there.
"How'd he do that?" he wondered out loud.

"Power," smirked the healer, "I suppose you will want to
learn it."

Again Ramon looked about before answering, "I guess so. What
do I have to do?  Andalejo said all his father had to do was
to ask for it."

"Apache power..." said Mud Wallow, "Not your type."

"Why not?  Are there different kinds of power?"

The shabby healer shrugged, "Power is power," he said, "It
depends on how it is used.  The Apache learn about their
kind of power from the cradle.  They know how to use it.  So
do the Hopi, the Yaqui, and the Comanche, but their power is
different."

"Why bother?" grumbled Ramon, "If you have to be born into
it, how can I learn anything?"

Mud Wallow sighed.  "We must start over," he said, "Try to
pay attention."

There was a sudden shift.  Ramon blinked and looked around.
Had he fallen asleep?  How could he do that when he was
already asleep?

"So you are going to learn the ways of power?" the healer
chuckled, "This is good.  Very good.  I will help you learn
to ask for the correct things.  It is important that you
pray correctly."

"I'm not trying to learn anything!" objected Ramon, "And
even if I was, I wouldn't do dumb stuff like sit around and
pray all day."

"There are more powerful methods than prayer," was the dry
response, "But it is a good method to start with."

"So what's better?"

"Prayer is asking.  It is a step.  If someone is bigger and
stronger than you, it only makes sense to ask, first,"  Mud
Wallow gestured with his hand to include the whole desert
floor.  They were suddenly higher in the hills, looking out
over the landscape.  "Do you see all that?  Lots of land.
Water, if you know where to look.  Gold, silver.  Animals to
hunt," he asked, "Would you like to own it?"

"No way!" Ramon said, trying to remember something from
words he had heard in the mission schools.  Something about
someone who would take you up on a mountain and promise you
things.  From up here he thought to look for his own
campfire and was surprised to see three fires - his own, one
back toward the desert, and the unknown one farther on into
the confusing maze of boulders and paths.

"Good," said the old man, "Because you couldn't have it,
anyway.  It belongs to the spirits, and to the animals who
must live there.  But you can go there and not be harmed.
You can go to the spirits and ask for food... and for water,
and you will probably get it."

"What has this got to do with power?  I want to have
something useful!"

"Ahh!" Mud Wallow's face loomed closer, "So you *are*
interested in power?"

"Well, just enough to keep from getting beat..."

"No!  You can never have enough for that," sighed the old
healer, "If you use power unwisely, you will draw others who
want power.  Then if you do not know how to handle it, they
take it from you."

"So what do I do, just ask them to go away?"

That evinced another dry chuckle from Mud Wallow.  "There is
another power," he said, "You know they will go away.  Then
they will not come in the first place."

"I do not get it."

Another chuckle as the decrepit healer faded, "You still do
not know, yet," he said.

Still he walked on.  The dream was not over yet.  He
clambered down to level ground, then settled into a steady
run, going closer to the fires that he had seen.  At the
desert campsite, there were five men sleeping around the
fire, their horses picketed nearby.  A sixth deputy stood
guard, sitting just outside the rim of firelight.

The guard glanced in his direction and Ramon stood still,
then remembered that he was in a dream.  "If he can see me
then either this is not a dream or he's in the dream, too.
That's too confusing to think about."

As a test, he moved into the light of the campfire, prepared
to duck if the sentry should start.  There was no reaction,
even when he waved his hand in front of the man's eyes.
Then the sentry rose to his feet and Ramon jumped back, but
the man paid no attention to him.  His eyes were on
something moving through the brush toward their camp.  It
was the mare Lonesome had saved.

[This is a peculiar dream,] Ramon admitted as he found the
trail they had followed earlier, [everything is too clear.]

He was coming upon the campfire where he had left the others
when an odd thought occurred to him.  He knew he had run to
the sheriff's campfire and looked around, and then he had
run all the way back, but he was not tired.

He smiled indulgently at his own silliness.  [Of course,] he
said to himself, [It's a dream, after all.]

The aroma of acrid tobacco smoke caught his attention.  A
white blur ahead resolved itself into Alboro's hunched form,
sitting and smoking his pipe.

"About time you came back," grumbled his abuelo, "You can't
sit still for a minute.  No patience.  You will never
learn!"

"I was only walking around," said Ramon defensively,
"Everything seems so strange.  Like a dream.  I saw the
sheriff's camp and I'm going over to look at that other
fire."

"No!" Alboro said sharply, "That is enough!  Go back to
bed!"

Ramon came nearer to the camp and realized that he had
walked past Wolfwalker without being noticed, yet the Azuma
warrior was alert, watching the night around him.

Closer to camp, he came upon another puzzle.  Alboro was
standing behind him, almost at Wolfwalker's side.  There was
a shape under the blanket where Alboro had been earlier.
Curious, Ramon lifted Alboro's serape and peered at the
person snoring beneath.

He beheld - Alboro.

Whipping around, Ramon stared at the Alboro standing
solemnly before him.  The standing Alboro spoke, "Bring the
others all together, quickly!"

Then everything rocked and shook and the figure faded away.
Again he shook and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Wake up!" cried Sandy, "We got trouble!  Somebody's
coming!"

Wolfwalker was stamping out the fire.  "Something woke up
the posse," he said, "They're heading this way!"  Lonesome
was hurrying back from his post.

Into the last light cast by the embers of the campfire
strolled the mare.  Behind her there was the nearing glow of
torchlight and the sound of more horses.

"Oh, no!" cried Lonesome, "I knew I should have shot that
animal!  She's leading them straight to us!"

Ramon stumbled to his feet.  It took him a moment to get his
balance, but he was soon strapping his saddle on the bay. He
looked around and saw that everyone was together, but
through the muffled grunts and noises of assembly he noticed
that one figure was missing.

"Where the heck is my abuelo?" he wondered.

That was when the wind howled and the pebbles danced, rocks
knocking against each other in an incessant rumble.  Dust
and blowing sand mingled with uprooted bushes and flying
grass to throw a curtain between them and the desert.

"Earthquake!" cried Sandy, then corrected himself,
"Duststorm?"

In the confusion that followed, blowing sand and dust
obscured all vision.  Horses nickered and reared, forcing
them to divide their attention between holding on and
keeping the grit out of their faces.

Through the folds of his bandanna, Ramon saw Red Cloud's
horse lose its footing and fall among the flat boulders. He
dismounted from the bay and careened through the gale to Red
Cloud's side.  He found Wolfwalker already there, protecting
her from flying debris.  Ramon joined him to shelter her.
Before they vanished into the murk, he saw the cowboys
moving to help Estrellita.

The very earth creaked and the rocks underfoot trembled as
large monstrous shapes seemed to materialize and vanish
before them.  Ramon saw a shape like Alboro's jackass gallop
wildly past with someone who looked like Alboro in the
saddle, waving and taunting the monstrous creatures into
chasing him.  Then the jackass vanished as though it had
never been, followed by the gargantuan phantasms who were
howling in anger, roaring and growling to shake the world.

Then there was stillness.  From the bushes not far away a
mockingbird called, and a thin line of light announced the
rising of the sun over unfamiliar hills.

Ramon staggered to his feet, then reached down and helped
Red Cloud.  Wolfwalker was already up and pacing about the
bare area of sand on which they stood.  They were surrounded
by low trees and shrub littered with the contents of a
busted pack.  Their horses were nowhere to be seen, and
their companions had vanished.

"Where are we?" Ramon wondered, "It is dawn, already!"

"Use your eyes," growled Wolfwalker, "We are not where we
were."

"I know that!" snapped Ramon, "But where are we?"

"Beyond the hills," supplied Red Cloud, "We have taken a
giant's step."




IN THE KITCHEN:

At the De Muerte hacienda, Dolores had coffee waiting in the
kitchen as Manuel pulled on his clothes and dried his hair.
"I have always considered Senor Sinestro to be a hard man,"
he said, "But he has exceeded even my worst expectations."

Francisco, his stool propped against the table, held out a
cup for a refill.  "Our Alcalde is a man of many talents,"
he said, "The Azuma say he is a man of hunger."

Manuel sipped his own cup, "So we do.  He is hungry for
something that is on the de Muerte property," he said, "To
get it, he is prepared to turn Don Pedro's own son against
him.  He intends to claim that Don Pedro is endangering his
own granddaughter."

"Surely, as reckless as Estrellita is, Estabon would not
believe such a charge!"

"Estabon and Carmen may be overly generous with their
daughter, but they are not indifferent.  When they find that
Estrellita has followed our son into a dangerous land, they
will become very concerned."

"But Dona Mercedes has already told them about Estrellita!"
cried Dolores, "I helped write the messages myself!"

"You forget that all messages go through the Alcalde's
office," frowned Manuel, "He has delayed them and plans to
claim that they were never sent.  He guards the roads in
case someone tries to take a message by hand.  A hard man,
and cruel."

"I had a chance to shoot him, once," said Dolores soberly,
"Now I wish I had done so."

"Mi Dulce, I have been content to leave you your past.
Someday we will talk about those times," Manuel said to her,
gently, "But not now.  I am angry that anyone would so
coldly threaten my patron in his own home.  It was all I
could do to keep from revealing my presence."

"Did Don Pedro know you were there, listening?" Francisco
raised an eyebrow, "It would be like him to provoke the
Alcalde into uttering more than he had planned."

"He was aware.  I must confer with him when that snake
leaves."

"I think I, too, should all go and talk to him," said
Dolores, "Bertran spoke to me of a hidden treasure, the
Aztec hoard."

"That is a legend!  I cannot believe he is chasing after an
old tale that prospectors tell each other on cold nights."

"He believes it is real.  He almost killed our son, and my
daughter, because of his greed for gold.  I must warn Don
Pedro."

"We will all go," agreed Manuel.




A CHANGE OF PLAN:

Machack scowled at the ridge, where sand and bits of rubbish
were falling from a clear, starlit sky.  "This watchdog is
proving to be interesting," he said appreciatively.

Espuma was not so unperturbed, "They have cheated!" he
cried, "Now I must leave tonight!"

"Unless I read my signs wrongly, they are going to travel
very far, very fast," the warrior said, "What profit is
there in hurrying?"

"The master has entrusted me with a few small articles,
including an apparatus to go very fast," gloated the smaller
man, "I know where they are going, and I can get there
almost as soon as they do."

"I was wondering about your reason for being here," growled
Machack.  He laid his hand on his knife and added, "Now I
will know.  Or else!"

Espuma sidled away from him.  "I am to make them welcome,"
he said, "I could take you, as well.  Otherwise, you will be
days catching up."

"And I am to collect the girl," the warrior's voice was a
deep rumble of warning, "The girl will be unharmed.  You
*can* be destroyed, you realize.  I know how."

"There will not be one hair on her head out of order,"
promised Espuma.  "As for the people around her, I will make
no such promise."

"You know how important this mission is, and you want to
play your games?  I do not need you!" thundered Machack,
advancing on him.

"Can you find her?" countered his companion as he stepped
backward, "I can.  I have been there.  Several years ago I
arranged for some help there."

The husky warrior ground to a stop, his fist inches away
from Espuma's face.  Espuma smiled, but it was a wan smile.

"So you knew where the child was all this time, and you
concealed it from the master," Machack said, "Someday your
sly little plans are going to get you hurt."  He put away
his knife with the Toledo steel blade and asked, "How do you
plan to `find' the girl?"

"I have told the master that I might know of a likely spot,
which I do.  Since we know the boy is going to the Apache,
we will get there first."

"That tells me nothing!"

"Just come with me, and I will show you," the ex-sergeant
pulled a spindly mechanism from his packs and began to
assemble it.

"I will not place myself at your mercy.  Go, fly.  I will
get there.  You said yourself that I can always find you.  I
say I can follow your stench!  But hear this... harm the
girl, or let her escape," Machack turned a shrug into a
menacing gesture, "and only one of us will return to
apologize to the master!"

Espuma turned his back to the warrior, attaching a sling to
the device with stout rope.  Machack saw with some
satisfaction that the ex-sergeant's hands were shaking.




PREPARING THE WELCOME MAT:

The whole world was beginning to taste bitter, like the tea
Yucca had insisted that she try this morning.  Lucha had
waited until her friend's back was turned before pouring the
rest of the inky liquid into the grass.

When she poked her head out of the doorway this morning,
Lucha had been greeted by three ponies.  Each was tied to a
stake, each had the finest halter the young man's family
could afford, and each represented an answer to her
declaration of eligibility... a declaration she was sure she
had never made.  Now, she was expected to feed and water the
pony of the man she chose.  Already their families would be
preparing the customary gifts in hopes that she would pick
their son.

Three ponies.  Considering the relative poverty of the
tribal group, this was a lot.  Three out of so few.  Her
mother had no wealth, her father was dead, and she could not
cook or sew to please her mother.  [Why do they even try?]
she wondered to herself.  She wrenched her thinking free of
self-pity before she could become mired in useless gloom.

But she was not ready.  When she had been much younger, she
had wished that her real family would come to get her - a
father who was bold and strong, a mother who was soft and
warm.  Perhaps even a strong brother who could ease the
feeling of `differentness' which haunted her.  Finally, she
had resigned herself to being content to live alone, and now
even that was being denied her.  Life was bitter, like the
tea Yucca had brought this morning.

Lucha smiled a bitter smile as she lifted the pendant down
from the wall hook and put it around her neck.  She had
social obligations; someone had a wickiup with a leaky roof
and several maidens were going together to help mend it
under the close supervision of an elder.

Outside her door, she saw the ponies and shuddered.  They
had been there since dawn.  If they were not cared for, they
would shortly become thirsty and hungry.  She could not ease
their discomfort; any favor she showed would be interpreted
as favor toward the pony's owner.

The finest pony, a black and white mare with a beaded
halter, belonged to Buffalo Wattle.  She knew who the other
two ponies belonged to, but they did not matter; within a
day they would come and claim their horse because they would
have 'reconsidered' after getting a talk from Buffalo
Wattle.

Her thoughts were interrupted.  "It is good that you are an
accomplished huntress," smiled Yucca Blossom as they walked
toward the wickiup, "But there is more to being a good wife
than merely hunting."

"I do it to get out of the village," sighed Lucha.  She had
to watch where she placed her feet.  The dizziness was not
as bad this morning, but it was still there, "I do not have
that many friends here... only you."

Yucca hid a shy grin and said, "They would like you if you
would stay and talk with them."

"I would not want to gossip, it is boring.  Sewing,
preparing hides, cooking... it is boring.  I want to
travel."

"That is why some say you are not acting like a woman.  I
say they are wrong," Yucca frowned as she avoided two
puppies growling and tearing at each other in playful
abandon, "Still, you should be prepared to tend to your
husband, so he can provide for you and your family."

Lucha brushed her sleeve across her face as though to move a
stray tendril of hair that had gotten into her eye, or she
could have been brushing back a tear.  "My mother is the
only family I have," she sniffed, "I can take care of her."

"Aiyyeee," said Yucca, "and what of yourself?  Do you not
dream of a handsome man once in a while?  Who will look
after you?"

"I need no one," Lucha stopped as she saw the group of young
men standing outside Yucca's wickiup.  Buffalo Wattle was
among them, standing in front.

"They go to search for a missing pony," Yucca said.  She
walked up to Buffalo Wattle and handed him a leather bag
crusted with beads and feathers.  Her brother sent a guarded
look at Lucha before the group started out across the
compound at a trot and headed toward the south.





THE PARTY OF THE SECOND PART:

Across the close-cropped grass of a meadow rang the -fcrack-
of a musket, interrupting the distant lowing of cattle.  The
noise echoed across the sparse rolling grass of a small
pasture.

Sandy walked woodenly back to the others, his chin set and
his lower lip quivering.  Estrellita lifted her hand to
touch his elbow, hesitated, and withdrew it as he passed
her.

"Lucky we didn't lose more," Lonesome said, facing away from
the others.

Sandy finished wiping down the barrel and slid the musket
into its saddle holster.  "Reckon we could spread the packs
among the other horses," he said, "Ramon and them will be
needing their horses when we find them."

Estrellita limped up to Lonesome.  "We could put the packs
on your pet horse," she suggested.

"Is that nag still here?" cried Lonesome, "How do I get rid
of her?"

The mare came when Estrellita called, and seemed eager to
take on the burden stripped from the dead packhorse.
Lonesome took the pack from the rancherita before she
dropped it.  "You took a spill back there, didn't you?" he
asked.

"I've fallen off taller horses than this one!" snapped the
rancherita, but as she walked past Sandy she stumbled and he
caught her before she fell.

"We'd better find the rest and get going," said Lonesome.

While Sandy mounted his steed and scouted about for the
remainder of the group, Lonesome tied the bay and the other
two horses into a string with the mare bringing up the rear.
Estrellita seemed more secure once in the saddle.

"Nothin'," Sandy reported after his sweep, "They could be
any direction... no telling where that wind blew them."

"I'll just be doggoned if I can figger," said Lonesome as he
puzzled over the unfamiliar landmarks.

"Now you're startin' to sound like Mister Calpern," Sandy
chuckled.

"Old man has a head on his shoulders, you got to grant.
Maybe he could make sense out a wind that takes us a hundred
miles and sits us down without killing us."

"Yeah," agreed Sandy, "Don't know nobody I'd rather have
guarding my back in a fight... `Ceptin' maybe you."

"That's mighty big of you, Kid, seeing's how you ain't never
seen me in a fight."

"How about back at Aguas Calientes, at the jailer's house?"

"That weren't no fight, Boy.  That was just clearin' up a
misunderstanding.  Come a real fight, maybe somebody don't
walk away."

"All the same..." Sandy shrugged.

Lonesome frowned.  "I got no *idea* how we got here, but I
know where we are.  Came through here a couple years ago.
There's a town called Rio Peligroso just up that road, and
they got good grub."

"I want to go!" Estrellita roused enough to say, "I'm dying
for a decent cooked meal!"




THE OLD GUARD:

Chief Tom Goose watched the small group of young men as they
left the girls and ran past on their way into the land south
of the rancheria.  He said nothing, but an alert person
would have noted pride reflecting from his eyes when they
came to the young man leading the group.

"They follow Buffalo Wattle as though they were on a raid,"
commented his companion and brother-in-law, the shaman.  His
name was Broken Cloud, for the way the clouds had split the
sky when he was on a trek in the desert, searching for his
calling.  Now he was searching for the words to tell his
brother what he had seen.

Tom Goose merely nodded in acknowledgment.  "His mother
would have been content," he said, "He is headstrong, but he
is a good leader... if only..."

"And Yucca Blossom is becoming a fine young woman,"
continued the medicine man as though the chief had not
faltered, "Already the boys are noticing her.  You can see
them follow her with their eyes as she walks past."  He
laughed, "They pretend to be examining the ground.  Ahh,
youth!"

The chief nodded again.  The hills to the west had lost
their rosy glow and were subsiding into lumps of stone ready
to receive the warmth of the sun.

Broken Cloud cleared his throat, wondering why he was having
such dificulty in speaking his mind.  "They go to find a
missing pony," he said at last.

Tom Goose merely nodded.

"It was White Dog's pony," the shaman continued, "The
pony... wandered away."  Broken Cloud lamented to himself,
[That was not what I wished to say!  Why are my words so
tangled?]

"Brother, I must ask of deeper matters," said Tom Goose, "I
have felt the shadows again."

"Aiyuh," muttered Broken Cloud, "Others are disturbed, as
well.  No one enjoys crouching in his home while things walk
about that he cannot fight," the medicine man watched his
face as he asked, "It is the dream, is it not?"

"Wolves and javelinas in the camp.  I have not had this
dream for years.  Since Buffalo Wattle fell ill and his
mother..."  He paused again.  No one liked to talk of
ghosts.

He continued, "I thought it was over.  We once were a large
group.  Now, families leave and no one joins.  Look at us. A
handful of families stay.  Now Deer Finder has gone. Tell
me, my brother... are we truly cursed?"

Broken Cloud took his time answering, "Not by spirits.  I
have asked, and they tell me this.  The bear spirit says we
have taken in something which can harm us, but then he says
we had to do it.  He says we must come together with our
fellow clans to talk about it," the shaman blinked and
looked at the shimmering hills, "And then he says something
I do not understand, about my eyes."

Tom Goose remained troubled.  "Who have we offended?" he
wondered, "What could we have done?"

"I cannot say.  It is for this reason I have laid aside my
quarrel with the medicine man of the Loose Foot group, and
called Headsplitter from the Gray Mountain group.  We have
agreed to meet and discuss the problem during the gathering.
While you and your fellow chiefs discuss Chief Red Sleeves
and his pacifist teachings, we will talk about this
village."

"That is one less thing for me to worry about," said Tom
Goose.

"Let us talk of more pleasant things," smiled the medicine
man, "I would rather be remembering the days when I was
chasing off across the country, like those young men."  He
had already forgotten his warning to Tom Goose.




RIO PELIGROSO:

Rio Peligroso stood at the base of a cliff, a gaggle of
adobe huts clustered around an old mission.  A single main
street angled out from the river with several stores on
either side, making it a fair-sized town for the area.  The
river, from which the place name derived its name, trickled
between the town and the cliff, perilous only in the spring
when runoff from melted snows in the hills brought the
trickle to a raging torrent.

Lonesome and his companions crossed the fearsome river a
half-dozen times, in water ankle deep at the most, on their
way to the town.


"We've got no doctor here, but I've patched a few cuts. What
seems to be her problem?" the stout woman named 'Ma Brown'
who ran the boardinghouse told them.  She wiped her hands on
her apron and put it away before looking at the girl in
Lonesome's arms.  Sandy stepped out of her way, but remained
close.

"She fell off her horse a few miles back," offered Lonesome.
The stout woman lifted Estrellita out of his arms and
started up the stairs.

Estrellita stirred and mumbled, "Let me alone.  I want to
sleep."

"Don't see no broke bones," the lady said over her shoulder,
"Could be she's just tuckered out.  I'll put her to bed. You
don't mind if she spends the night, do you?  Cost you four
bits."

"Fine," said Lonesome, "She can stay here.  I have to go
look for someone.  They might show up here."

"I'll stay with her," volunteered Sandy.

"I'll let you look in on her," promised Mrs. Brown, "But you
don't roost in there by yourself.  This ain't that kind of
place."

"I'll be on the porch," promised Sandy as he tried and
failed to keep the embarrassment off his face.





CHAPTER VEINTIDOS:  END

Author's notes:

   About the practice Lucha encounters in this story:
   According to the source, an Apache maid would tie a lock
   of hair outside her doorway, to announce that she was
   ready to choose her mate.  Hopeful suitors would tie a
   pony by her house to attract her attention.  The maid
   would feed and water the pony of the man she had chosen.
      This rather romantic custom may or may not have been
      common.  I have found it described only once, in
      "Apache Warrior" by David C. Cooke, 1963.
   More typically, the young man would persuade a member of
   his family or an eloquent outsider to plead his cause
   with the family of the girl he wished to marry.
   Marriages might also be pre-arranged by both parents, but
   sometimes the couple involved could influence the
   decision.
      Ref: "An Apache Life-Way," by Morris Edward Opler,
   1965.