Read Trail Of the Apache and Other Stories (1951) for Free Online Page B

back on, but Pillo spoke long enough about the last ten years to compare with any plains Indian's war chant covering generations. As he spoke, the other Apaches would grumble or howl, but did not take their eyes from Travisin. The captain stared back at them insolently, his gaze going from one to the next, never dropping his eyes. But he noted more than scowling faces. He saw that though lookouts were posted on the eastern edge of the mesa, the direction from which he and Ningun had come hours before, the western side, was empty of any Apaches.
    Pillo was finishing with background now, and becoming more personal. He spoke in a mixture of Spanish and English, relying on Apache when an emphatic point had to be made. He spoke of promises made and broken by the white man. He spoke of Crook, whom the Apache trusted, but who was gone now.
    Look around, white soldier, you see many Tin- neh here, but you will not live to see the many more that will come. Soon will come Jicarillas, Tontos and many Mescaleros, and the white men will be driven to the north. As he spoke he pushed his open shirt aside and scratched his stomach.
    Travisin saw the two animal teeth hanging from his neck by a leather string. It was then that the idea started to form in his mind. It was rash, something he would have laughed at in a cooler moment; but he glanced at the fire that meant torture. He looked across it and saw Gatito. There was the answer!
    The animal teeth and Gatito.
    Pillo speaks with large mouth, but only wind comes out, Travisin said suddenly, feeling confidence rise at the boldness of his words. You speak of many things that will happen, but they are all lies, for before any Tinneh come I shall drag you and your people back to the reservation, where you will all be punished.
    Pillo started to howl with laughter, but was cut short by Travisin. Hold your tongue, old man! I d o not speak with the wind. U-sen Himself sent me.
    He knows what your medicine is. Travisin paused for emphasis. And I am that medicine!
    Pillo's lips formed laughter, but the sound was not there. The white soldier spoke of his medicine.
    All your people know that your medicine is the gray wolf who protects you, because U-sen has always made Himself known through the gray wolf Trail of the Apache to guard you from evil. I tell you, old man, if you or any warrior lays a hand on me as I leave here, you will be struck dead by U-sen's arrow, the lightning stroke. If you do not believe me, touch me!
    Pillo was unnerved. An Apache's medicine is the most important part of his existence. Not something to be tampered with. Travisin addressed Pillo again, turning toward Gatito.
    If Pillo does not believe, let him ask Gatito if I d o not have power from U-sen. Ask Gatito, who was the best stalker in the Army, if he was ever able to even touch me, though he tried many times. Ask him if I am not the wolf.
    The renegade scout looked at Travisin wide-eyed.
    He had never thought of this before, but it must be true! He remembered the dozens of times he had tried to win his bet with the captain. Each time he had been but a few feet away, when the captain had laughed and turned on him. The thought swept through his mind and was given support by his primitive superstitions and instincts. Pillo and the others watched him and they saw that he believed.
    Travisin saw, and exhaled slowly through clenched teeth.
    He turned from Pillo and walked toward the western rim of the mesa without another word. It had to be bold or not at all. Apaches in his way fell back quickly as he walked through the circle and out of the rancheria. His strides were long but unhurr ied as he made his way through the tall grass, looking straight ahead of him and never once behind.
    The n1/4eesh on the back of his neck tingled and he hunched his shoulders slightly as if expecting at any moment to feel the smash of a bullet or an arrow.
    For the hundred yards he walked with this uncertainty, the spring in him winding,