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Authors: J P S Brown

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BOOK: Jim Kane - J P S Brown
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"
He took an Indian woman, a
Guarigío
.
She bore him a son and died. Prisciliano didn't teach the boy letters
or religion. He said the formal knowledge he had acquired in his
previous life was better not known.

"
The boy grew up like a wild animal. When he was
a small child he was seldom seen and when he was seen he was always
running away and soon out of sight. One day he must have frightened
someone and enjoyed it because as he grew older he began to stalk his
fellow man. One day someone killed a stranger on the trail and robbed
him. The man's skull was crushed by a rock. Later, the maker of
mezcal
, the Indian
Astolfo, was found in the Arroyo de los Bitaches in the night in his
blankets by his fire with his head similarly crushed. People had seen
Saturnino Guevara following Astolfo down the arroyo that day as he
led his pack train toward Chinipas.

"
The day after Astolfo was found, Saturnino
showed up at the shack of Prisciliano drunk on
mezcal
.
At that time Prisciliano had not seen his son for several months
except at a
distance.

"
Saturnino babbled for a while to Prisciliano
about Astolfo and then fell into a drunken stupor. Prisciliano came
here and told me he wished me to come and get his son, that the man
was like a
tigre acebado
who
killed only for the love of killing. I took several men with me to
the shack. Saturnino must have seen us coming. He was gone when we
arrived.

"
Months later Saturnino attempted to kill a
young man who was riding through the Sierra peddling sewing machines.
He waited above a trail and dropped a rock on the boy. The rock
missed the boy's head but crushed his hand where it was resting on
the horn of the saddle. This time a hunter named Martinillo saw
Saturnino. Martinillo, armed with his rifle, was stalking a deer on
the other side of the canyon. He was far away but he fired close
enough to scare Saturnino away from the salesman. `

"
Martinillo can track a lion over the rock
better than a hunting dog can. After he accompanied the salesman here
he went back to the place where he had seen Saturnino last, taking
with him a party of men. The wild man had made for the highest, most
broken terrain in the area. He kept doubling back and watching his
own trail as any clever predator will do. "Martinillo soon
guessed the pattern of Saturnino's flight. He sent the party of men
away as a diversion and went to a place by a very steep cliff to
intercept the wild man. He saw Saturnino climb around a naked
precipice, the only place the man could pass to double on his tracks
in that area. He waited until Saturnino got off the sheerest, most
dangerous part of the precipice and shot him in the leg and broke it.

"The men captured and held Saturnino there. They
sent a man after me. Prisciliano and I went up there. All eight of
us, concurring with Prisciliano, hanged Saturnino on that precipice.

"I didn't know you had caught him," the
Lion said.

"
We didn't advertise it. It died here."

"
You acted justly," the Lion said.

"We did what was necessary, Señor Kane. We must
tame this region or civilization will be too long arriving in the
Sierra."

"
I`m in accord with you," Kane said.

"The Sierra is most of the time peaceful but we
have much hardship. Even our celebrations are hard to bear, as you
witnessed tonight. We must fight hardship with reason."

Salvador Arce's cattle were in the corral for Kane to
see early the next day. They were better cattle than Kane had been
buying around Rio Alamos. They were better boned, better horned,
stronger, and bigger. Arce agreed to deliver the cattle in Chinipas
on a certain day.
 

20
Merry
Gentlemen Resting

Kane and Abelardo Cuevas found the Valencia corrals
high on a bare hill in the highest part of the
sierra
oscura
, the dark Sierra, the unknown Sierra,
north of Yecora, Sonora. It was December and a snowstorm was brewing
in the wind that had been bunching its strength against them since
before noon.

Kane and Cuevas had been riding hard since the very
early, black, cold morning. When they got to the corrals, the wind
was very cold. It rolled over the smooth, bald hill. Kane was stiff
with the cold and fatigue. The little mule he rode was slowing and
tiring. The wind was getting in its last blows. It spanked Kane's
back and turned the back of his hat up. It blew the mule's tail
around over Kane's leg. A gust made the mule stumble off balance. He
scrambled tiredly to regain his footing just as they reached the top
of the hill. The mule groaned. The extra efort had hurt him. He tried
to step out surely toward the corrals on the even ground on top of
the hill, but his legs trembled. He stepped, lifting each foot too
high. Kane got off and led him the last few steps to the corral. He
unsaddled him. He knew the wind would sap the strength in the
animal's back if it blew the long sweaty hair dry. Kane turned his
saddle blankets over, dry side down, and tied them on with his
piggin' string so they wouldn't blow off the animal's back.

The cattle Kane had come to see were in the corrals.
There were about one hundred head of
corrientes
,
the common native cattle of the Sierra. Kane could see every size,
color, and shape of corriente known to man, and some not known to
many men. Cuevas had let the Valencias know by wire and messenger
that Kane wanted to buy their big steers. The Valencia big steers
were reputedly the finest steers to be found in one bunch in the
Sierra oscura. A few of the cattle in the corrals were not good, big
steers, but Cuevas had said he would buy any cattle Kane did not
want.

Kane and Cuevas laid their saddles down next to the
fence. They could see saddled horses tied next to an old log house.
They walked over to the house. Cuevas shouted and someone answered
from inside.

They stepped in the door. There were no windows in
the place. The only light in the room came through the open door and
places where the chinks had fallen away from between the logs in the
walls, and from a hole in the roof choked with smoke from a fire on
the dirt floor.

"
Shut the door. It's cold," someone said.

"
Very cold, " Cuevas said.

"
Good afternoon," Kane said.

No one answered him.

Kane stepped over to one side of the door so his eyes
could get used to the dark room. There were three men in the room,
squatting around the fire. They were not Indians. They wore the
homemade, two-layer, palm straw hats, peaked, with no crease in the
crown and no shape to the brim, commonly used by the
serrano
,
the man of the Sierra. Their feet were bare and unwashed for months
in
teguas
, the
homemade shoes of that region. The men squatted on their heels with
their hands bared toward the fire. They were unshaven and they had
even beards of feathery hair. They were the Spaniards, the Valencias,
called Los Peludos, the hairy ones, by the beardless Indians of the
Sierra.

They all looked straight at Cuevas. They were
unsmiling, unwelcoming. They completely ignored Kane.

"
We expected you this morning," the old one
said gruffly. He had blue eyes. His nose was running. There was a
clear drop ready to fall from the end of the thin, hooked nose. It
refused to fall. The light from a chink on the other side of the old
man made the drop glisten.

"
How could we get here this morning? We told you
we would be here today. It is a ten-hour ride from Yecora to this
corral," Cuevas said.

There was a red-haired one. His eyes were red, too.
They bored meanness at Cuevas. His cheekbones were burned and
peeling. The raw spots had soft, white, blistery edges. He picked
softly at the sore spots with the cushion of a dirty finger.

"
The morning is the time to work these cattle.
We wanted to get through with them early today, " the redheaded
one said.

"
Parece que no hay negocio
.
It looks like no business. We can't do business now, " the old
Valencia said.

"
Why not?" asked Cuevas.

"Well, this man, a rich man, flies around in an
airplane and sends word he'll be here today to buy my cattle and we
have the cattle in the corrals since yesterday. Then he doesn't get
here at a good hour. The cattle are hungry and thirsty. We are hungry
and cold and thirsty. We are poor. We have wasted much time for this
man. Our time has increased in value and I'm afraid he won't be able
to pay us enough for it now. "

"
Look," said Cuevas. "Here we are on
the day we agreed to arrive. You have the cattle in the corral. You
were waiting for us. Why don't we just go and cut the cattle?"

"Let's see. We're going to see. How much are you
going to give?" said the old one.

"
We agreed on that before we came up," said
Cuevas.

"
Ah, pues no
. Ah,
well, no,"‘the old Valencia said. "That is not convenient
now. You've made us lose time."

"
We came on the day you requested in your wire.
What is it you want?. How much do you want for your cattle now?"
asked Cuevas.

"
How much do you want to give?"asked the
old one.

"
How can we tell without seeing the cattle?
You've eight different ages and kinds of cattle out there. We must
separate them to see how much we can give."

"
How much will you give for the cows?"

"
Young cows six hundred pesos a head. Old cows
five hundred."

"
I told you there would be no business,"
the old one said emphatically.

"You agreed to gather for that. We agreed to
come and look for that," said Cuevas.

"That was before you came late," said the
old one.

"Let's go, Cuevas," Kane said.

"
Wait a minute," Cuevas said.

"
I'm going, " Kane said. He stepped out of
the stuffy, smoky room and turned his face to the fresh wind. He
heard Cuevas arguing with the Valencias.

"
No, no, no, no, no," Cuevas said. "I'm
not that way. When I bring a man all the way up to the fifth
fornication to see some cattle at a certain price It expect you to
stick to the conditions of an agreement?

"
He can pay more," a Valencia said.

"He won't pay more," said Cuevas.

"
All these gringos are rich. "

"
This one isn't."

A Valencia said something in a low voice.

"
No, no," Cuevas said. 'Tm going now, too."

The Valencias and Cuevas came outside.

Kane began saddling the tired little mule. The old
Valencia came over to him.

"
How much you give for cattle?" he shouted
at Kane from three feet away. He spoke the way many people speak to a
foreigner, as though he is deaf, stupid, and doesn't see well.

"
Cuevas told you in the wire what I'd give,"
Kane said.

"
Work, work, wait, wait, long time you. Want
more money."

"
I can hear very well. Please don't shout,"
Kane said moderately. The man made him feel almost prim.

"
Want more money for cattle. Very, very good
cow," the old man shouted, waving toward the corrals.

"
You'll have to sell them to someone else then."
Kane got on the mule. "Look, Valencia, your cattle are too good
for me. Take them down to the coast yourself."

The brother of the redhead walked up to Kane. He was
tall and thin. His clothes had been carefully mended and remended. He
was cleaner than the other two, but he was as hairy-faced. The hair
on his head thatched down under his hat, over his neck and ears. He
wiped his nose with the back of a forefinger and looked up at Kane.

"
Will you look at my cattle? They are right
behind you in the small corral," he said.

Pretty smart Valencias, Kane thought. They are going
to Mutt and Jeff me. They chose this one for the nice one because
they think he's suave. He probably bathes now and then.

One's suave, one's gruff, and one's mean. That's the
way to handle these rich gringo buyers that come up to their mountain
trying to screw them!

"
I'll look, but I won't give more than the price
Cuevas told me you agreed on."

"
That's all right."

Kane got off the mule and loosened his cinches. He
followed the tall one through the gate of the corral. The small
corral was right on the edge of a precipice where part of the smooth
hill had split and tumbled clown. The posts surrounding the corral
were held up by loose rocks stacked at their bases. There were a few
old strands of rusty wire on the fence. The wire must have been 30
years old, judging from the size and shape of the barbs.

When Kane and the tall thin Valencia walked into the
corral, the cattle all moved over to the edge of the cliff. They
moved carefully on that side. The footing was sheer rock. They did
not lean on the old fence. When a steer felt the touch of a barb he
hastened away from the brink. Kane and Valencia moved over to the
cliff side of the corral so their presence would move the cattle
against the other side.

BOOK: Jim Kane - J P S Brown
8.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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