Navajo Long Walk (12 page)

To Kee, the days and nights of waiting to start their journey seemed to last forever. At last, army wagons were filled with provisions. The horses and sheep that had survived were rounded up by the Navajos who owned them. The Diné, so sad and silent during the four long years of captivity, began to talk and laugh and sing once more.

Excitement kept Kee awake most of the night before their departure. Many times he climbed the dugout ladder to lift a corner of the canvas. Each time Wise One would ask, “Is sun-bearer in the sky yet?” Kee smiled to know his grandmother was as anxious as he was to begin the long walk again.

At dawn, groups of Navajos began passing the dugout, ready to start when the wagons pulled out. Kee wanted to take Wise One to the wagons and find her a place to ride. “No,” she said. “We will walk slowly because
Hasba's three sheep must eat. I can keep up with you.”

Kee wished to leave his white friend a token of friendship. When he told this wish to Gentle Woman, she insisted he give Jeff the only blanket she had been able to weave for themselves. “But mother, our others are nothing but rags. You will need the new one on the journey home.”

“To show you are a friend to the white boy is a greater need.” Gentle Woman replied.

Carrying the blanket, Kee hurried toward the fort. He had so hated being a prisoner, it was only since the signing of the treaty he had thought how much he would miss Smoke and Jeff. It was going to be hard to say goodbye.

At the stables, Kee went inside Smoke's stall. Tossing the blanket he was carrying over the side of the stall, he rubbed Smoke's muzzle saying, “This is the last time I will pet you, my beauty.”

A voice behind him shouted, “Kee, I'm glad you're here. I was just going over to your place to say goodbye.”

Kee pulled the blanket down and pushed it at Jeff while patting Smoke's neck. “Here is small blanket my mother made for you to take to your mother.”

Jeff's face lit up. “Kee, that's wonderful. My mother never had an Indian blanket in her whole life. Now don't forget I'm going to be an explorer and I'll come to visit you someday.”

“Will you bring Smoke?”

“You bet I will, if we still have him. Then you and I will ride together in the Navajoland you talk so much about.”

Giving Smoke one last pat, Kee managed to say, “It's a bargain, Jeff.” Then he dashed out of the stable.

Knowing he would be needed to help carry family bundles, Kee hurried toward the dugout, lost in thought. Suddenly a horse nickered behind him. He knew that happy sound. Whirling around, he faced Ganado Mucho riding his black horse with Little Mare on a lead rope.

Kee rushed to the little horse. “Do you want me to help drive the cattle on the way back?”

The headman shook his head. “No, it is more important that you help your family, since you are the only boy.”

Kee knew that was true but he was sorry. He would have liked to ride the mare on the long march.

“Get up on Little Mare,” Ganado Mucho said. “You can take her to your hogan and I will go back to my animals.”

“Why should I take Little Mare to our hogan?”

“So Wise One can ride her. Your grandmother is too old to walk so far. And you can take care of Little Mare because now she is yours to keep always.”

Kee's mouth flew open but no words came.

Ganado Mucho laughed, then said, “Do not look so surprised. You have earned the horse for the work you have done for me. I know she will be happy with you for I have watched you two together.”

Through tear-filled eyes, Kee looked at his little horse. The first one that was truly all his own. He wondered how he could ever have thought she was ugly. She was so beautiful and so intelligent.

The Diné laughed and sang as they trudged along, or rode in wagons or on horses. Many wore old, blue army coats. Some women had dresses made of the white man's bright calico. Some men had trousers of the same material. Blue-coated cavalry men rode as escorts to the company for protection against other Indian tribes, and to keep the Navajos moving until they reached Fort Wingate.

The first day's march was long. Dust caked on sweating bodies. Yet when they camped for the night Kee thought his grandmother looked younger than she had since coming to Bosque Redondo. She helped Gentle Woman prepare the meager supper. The only water they had was what they carried in their water jars, but they used a little to wash the caked dust from their faces. “It is good to be going home,” Wise One said. “We have lived four years in that evil place. Lived on promises made by the white man that they would give us hogans and sheep. Now again they promise us sheep and goats to take the place of those Kit Carson's soldiers killed. What a happy thing it will be if it comes true. But we must make plans to work hard and take care of ourselves with our own efforts as we did before.”

Kee wanted to say, “Before, we had a father to help
us.” But he kept silent. He wondered if the others thought of his father as often as he did.

He looked forward to crossing the Rio Grande. Now that he could swim he could help Hasba and his mother and grandmother. When he finally stood on the river-bank, he laughed and laughed. Being July, the river had long since carried away the spring run-off. Only in the center was there a narrow current of water to swim. The rest was shallow enough to wade. The Navajo waded joyfully in to wash their tired dirt-caked bodies. They drank the muddy water. It tasted sweeter than the bitter water of their prison camp.

Grandmother ate only a little of her share of bread and beans that night. Kee noticed her eyes glistened with moisture. Gentle Woman put her arm around Wise One's shoulder, though she said nothing. Then Kee remembered the sadness of the first crossing when Wise One's beloved Small Burro was washed downstream.

Summer evenings were long. After eating, Kee decided to hunt for a rabbit. A change of food might make his grandmother feel better. He called Gray Dog. Though the animal was getting old, and was tired after the long day's walk, Gray Dog seemed as happy as Kee to go away from the noise, dust, smoke, and crowds of the camp. No rabbits were hiding in the gullies they searched.

When shadows began to lengthen, Kee turned back toward camp. The first thing he saw was a prairie dog, sitting on its haunches a short distance away. Gray Dog saw it too. Though the prairie dog was swift in running toward its hole, Gray Dog was swifter. He caught and killed the little animal. Bringing it to Kee, he dropped it at his feet. Kee patted the dog. “You are a good one. I know you are hungry, yet you give your catch to me. This will make grandmother happy. She has not tasted prairie dog since she left Navajoland.”

They hurried back to camp. Dropping the prairie dog in Wise One's lap, Kee said, “Gray Dog brings you this.”

Wise One smiled, though tears still shone in her eyes.

Gentle Woman skinned and cooked the animal. Small as it was, Wise One insisted everyone in the family must have a taste. Gray Dog chewed the bones.

The way home led again past Mt. Taylor, the sacred southern mountain. Now, every night when the Diné made camp, some of them found rabbits or prairie dogs to help stretch the short rations issued by the army. “We are once more within the circle of the sacred mountains,” Wise One told them. “The spirits remember us.”

When a slight red coloring appeared in the cliffs along the route, the Navajos knew they were at last nearing home. Once more they reached Bear Spring. They saw the American flag flying over nearby Fort Wingate and were told to make camp for a long stay. Their reservation was to begin just beyond the fort, but the boundaries had not yet been set, so they were to stay at Fort Wingate for a while.

The blue-coats went back to Fort Sumner. The Navajos were no longer prisoners of war.

“Now that we are supposed to be free, why do we stay here?” Hasba asked her mother. “Why can we not go to our hogan on the mesa? I want to take my sheep where there is a corral and more food for them.”

“Try to be patient, Little One,” Her mother replied. “The white man has many things to decide for us.” She sighed. “Things will never be the same as before we went to Bosque Redondo.”

Waiting for the free life to begin was hard. So many people and animals were crowded together, all of them
wishing for the silence of vast space. Often the oxcarts bringing rations from Albuquerque were late. The Diné were hungry most of the time. They gathered seeds, roots, and herbs. They hunted rats, rabbits, and prairie dogs for food. When riding away from camp on Little Mare, Kee was sometimes tempted to take off on his own. He knew several families had sneaked away, and the soldiers from Fort Wingate made no attempt to bring them back. They were no doubt glad to be rid of them. Kee felt sure he could find his way to Fort Defiance and from there to the mesa hogan. But he also knew his mother and grandmother and sister looked upon him as the man of the family. He could not disappoint them by leaving them behind.

The Navajos moved on before the first snow fell. A few days later, they looked again on the log and adobe buildings, mud pig pens, and sheep corrals of Fort Defiance.

The Diné could not feast their eyes enough on the hills covered with juniper and pine trees, nor breathe enough pine-scented air. Strong Man's family found their hole in the side of the wash still there. All the time they were unloading Little Mare and unpacking their bundles, Kee complained. “My mother, why do we not go on? We will be allowed to go anywhere now. We can be at our hogan in less than two days' journey.”

“I know, my son, but we do not know what we will find there. We have no food. With winter already upon us we cannot find any. How can we live on the mesa?”

“Let me ride Little Mare to our hogan. I will see how things are there and come back for the rest of you.”

“No, my son, you are too young to undertake such a journey alone.”

Wise One then said, “Let us all rest here until the first ration day. When we receive food for the week, let us all travel to see our hogan. We can return before the next ration day.”