“It is all right,” I spoke quietly, “you may come in.”
His only visible weapon was a stout stick that he must have taken up from the ground somewhere. He stared toward us but could see nothing, for we had remained behind the brush and trees.
“Who is it?” He spoke in Spanish.
“A friend,” I replied in the same language, “if you are friendly.”
He came on few steps further and then halted. Now he could see me, and he could see Keokotah. “Who are you?”
“Travelers,” I said, “and you?”
He did not reply, but came a few steps closer. “I am hungry,” he said.
“Are they far behind you?”
“Who?” He stared at me. “Nobody is behind me.” He peered at me. “I need a horse. I can pay.”
“We have no horses,” I replied.
“No horses?” He almost screamed his frustration. “I must have a horse! At once!”
“We have no horses,” I repeated. “You are escaping from the Indians?”
He was facing me now, a squarely built, not unhandsome rascal, bearded and with what seemed a freshly broken nose. He was Spanish without a doubt, and he had recently been in a fight of some kind.
“I have seen no Indians,” he replied stiffly. “Not lately, anyway. I must get back to Mexico.”
“It is a long way,” I replied. “You can get a horse in the Spanish settlements.”
“Days!” He spoke angrily, impatiently. “Every minute is precious!”
“There is food,” Itchakomi said.
He glanced at her, looked again. “My God,” he said. “You’re beautiful!”
I was suddenly angry. Who did he think he was, anyway? “She is a Sun,” I spoke coolly, “a Sun of the Natchee. She is a princess.”
“I can believe it.” He looked at her again. “Such a woman! In such a place!”
He irritated me, so I grabbed his arm and pointed the way. He tore his arm free and reached for his belt. There was a dagger there.
He glared at me and I shrugged. “Keep on going, then. You’ve a long way before the settlements.”
He swore. Then he said, “I am a fool! You spoke of food?”
Indicating our cave, I led the way. When I glanced back Itchakomi was watching me. I thought she was smiling, and for some reason, that made me angrier still.
He was no common soldier—that was obvious. Perhaps the leader of a wiped-out expedition? I asked him. “No,” he replied to my question, “not wiped-out.” He accepted the food I offered and began to eat. “We quarreled,” he said then. “Diego wished to go no further. I wanted to push on. We fought.”
“You lost?”
“I won.” He swallowed, gulped water, and then examined the piece of meat he was eating and chose the place to bite. Then he looked over at me. “I won,” he repeated, “and that dog of a Diego set the others upon me.”
He ate, drank, and then paused again, gesturing with the hand that held the meat. “They tied me. They would take me back to be tried for mutiny. It would mean my death. My death, d’you hear?
“So I escaped. I shall return and tell my story first, and then we shall see! Moreover”—there was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes—”I shall have something to offer.”
“A bribe?”
“A gift. A very special gift.” He smiled at me. “Thank you, my friend, for being here. I was wondering what I could do, how I could appeal to a man of his very special tastes. Now I know.”
He talked no more, but he had aroused my curiosity. He recovered amazingly. With the food, the drink, and a bit of rest he was a new man.
“You might think I was a fool to challenge Diego,” he commented. “He was the leader and I but a follower, yet had anything happened to him, I would have been captain. I was the only man of rank, and Diego, the fool, insisted on holding to his orders, which were to go so far and no farther and not to risk hostility from strange Indians.
“Trade! That was what was wanted! Trade bedamned, as you English would say. Gold is what I wanted, and I knew where to find it! Gold!
“I could not make him see reason so I risked all.” He glanced up at me. “A man who will not risk all is a fool! A child!”
“If it is gold you want,” I suggested. “Diego evidently thought first of duty.”
His contempt was obvious. “Duty? A word for slaves! For servants! A man’s first duty is to himself!” He shot me an impatient glance. “Of course it is gold I want! Gold can buy whatever it is you wish. It can buy power, position, women … whatever.” Then he smiled suddenly and said, “And women can buy all those things as well.”
He threw a sly glance my way.
“You did not see any Indians when coming here?”
He shrugged. “A camp that I avoided. A dozen lodges on the bank of this river out there.” He looked thoughtful. “Six or seven miles beyond the opening yonder.”
His eyes were busy, estimating everything. What he had in mind I did not know, but he was making a quick judgment of all we had and what we might be doing here.
“English?” he asked.
“I am. I was born here, in America.”
“You’ll be thrown into prison if the Spanish find you here,” he commented, “although I might intercede for you.”
He sat back and looked around him again. “Diego, now, he would arrest you at once and return you to Santa Fe. Then you would be sent to Mexico, in chains.”
“We hope to avoid that,” I said. “We do not expect to meet your Diego.”
“I could speak for you,” he said, “if you will do something for me.”
“When spring comes and we can travel again, we shall be leaving here.”
Leaving him there with Keokotah I went outside and looked back over the route he had used. His tracks were visible for some distance. He had pointed a finger at us and if he was pursued they would certainly find us all. Moreover, any Indian who discovered his trail would follow it. I looked at the gray, overcast sky.
Itchakomi was seated by the fire when I entered her cave. The women were working, and one of the men was chipping an arrowhead. I never ceased to marvel at their skill in chipping the finest flakes, especially the bird points, small arrowheads used in killing feathered game.
She looked up as I entered, and I went and sat across the fire. We sat for several minutes in silence, and then I spoke.
“You must have a care. He has left a trail the blind could follow.”
She said nothing and irritably I shifted my seat. “He is a dangerous man.”
She was amused. No doubt she thought me jealous, but what had I to be jealous of? Yet he worried me.
“He has something on his mind. I could see it when he looked at you.”
There was laughter in her eyes. “Most men do,” she said.
My cheeks were flushing with impatience and irritation. “I did not mean that. I meant something more. I do not know what. Just be careful.”
“Oh, I shall!”
A bit longer I sat, feeling uncomfortable, and then I got up and walked out. Again I looked across the fields of snow. Nothing in sight but the tracks, a furrow in the snow pointing right at us. And after all our care!
Gathering some wood from under nearby trees I made a pile near the cave mouth. It was something to keep my hands busy while my thoughts took off down another trail. Our only advantage lay in the fact that he was in a hurry to be off. From what I gathered he wished to be in Santa Fe to tell his story first, and he had implied he had something to offer.
That night, when alone in the cave for a few minutes, I donned the coat of mail I had found near the village on the Arkansas. Over it I put my fringed buckskin hunting jacket, drawing the laces tight. Feeling with my fingers I assured myself no part of it was visible. Had I a mirror …
I had not seen a mirror since leaving the settlement on Shooting Creek, almost a year ago. A year! And what had I done in that year? I had broken a leg and crossed the plains to the Shining Mountains. It was little enough, but when spring came we would be over the passes and into the lands beyond.
My broken leg had mended well. True, I limped somewhat, but I could still walk and run. Of course, I had accomplished the mission given me by the Ni’kwana. I had found Itchakomi and delivered the message entrusted to me.