Navajo Long Walk (4 page)

Kee was still sleeping soundly when the shrill notes of a bugle startled him to his feet. Small Burro jumped up dumping Wise One's head on the ground. Gray Dog barked. Hasba screamed and clutched Wise One. They were not the only ones to jump in fear. Navajos who had been in camp a few days laughed at all the frightened ones, telling them the cause of the harsh sound and helping them to laugh at their fears.

Many Goats shouted to the Navajos to gather in front of Colonel Carson's tent. He told them what Kit Carson said: “You Navajos must go to Fort Defiance where you will be fed and receive warm blankets. I am going there now with a few of my soldiers. You are to follow us. I know those of you who have no horses cannot travel as fast as we can. I trust you. Set your own pace. Navajos who do not come to the fort will be hunted until they are all destroyed.”

Walking with Wise One and Hasba back to the tree where Small Burro was tethered, Kee thought about his father. Strong Man knew many good hiding places in different parts of Navajoland. Carson's men would have a hard time finding him, unless he had already been killed before he was able to escape from the canyon.

Wise One said, “We will not hurry after the soldiers.
I know the way to Fort Defiance. When we were young, your grandfather and I went there to camp. After the white men made the fort, we were told to keep out of the green meadow there or our sheep and horses would be shot. We never went there again.”

The Navajos began following the soldiers out of the grove to the narrow trail that led up to the canyon rim. A soldier stood at the beginning of the trail, handing each Indian a chunk of dried meat. When Kee received his piece, Gray Dog stood up on his hind legs, pleading with his large, dark eyes. Kee broke off a small piece for him. The soldier reached into his bag for a chunk and threw it on the ground. A surprised expression crossed Kee's face. If he had not seen it, he would never have believed a white man could be so kind to a dog.

Before long, more than two hundred Indians were strung out in a long line following the soldiers. Sun on the canyon rim had melted much of the snow. Small Burro foraged along the sides of the road. Kee kept wishing Wise One would say, “We will turn off at our hogan,” but she walked in silence. Gray Dog began ranging in the direction of the hogan. He would stand a long distance away, head thrown back sniffing, then circle back to Kee. After the dog had done this several times Kee said, “Grandmother, let us go and look at our hogan. Perhaps we shall find some food we can use for our journey.”

Wise One smiled. “All the way I have been wondering whether or not we should visit our hogan. Now you have all decided for me.”

Then Small Burro turned off the road in the direction of the hogan with Gray Dog beside him. Gray Dog was puzzled by the absence of sheep. He ran in and out of the empty corral looking for them. Small Burro waited patiently at the hogan until he was unloaded, then trotted into the brush shelter in his corral. He lay down with a sigh of contentment. He was home once more.

Soon a blazing fire made with dry wood found in the hogan, warmed them outside. Corn meal mush with bits of dried meat Wise One had saved warmed them inside. “Grandmother” Hasba said, “Please let us stay here where we can be happy and where Father can find us. I do not want to go to the white man's camp.”

“None of us want to go, little one. You will find as you go through life you must often do things you do not want to do. A few days here and we would be without food. Your father is not ready to surrender to the white man. He will not come back here. We will stay one night. Kee, get the ladder your father made.” She pointed to the top log on the wall. “I seem to remember hiding some sacks of corn there.”

Kee found three small buckskin sacks. One held dried corn, one dried peaches and the third piñon nuts.

Too soon for all of them tomorrow became today. After stretching and yawning loudly, Wise One said, “Go and bring Small Burro to the hogan so we can load him.”

Wise One and Hasba had the blankets and sheepskins folded and the packs ready for each to carry when Kee pulled aside the door blanket saying, “Grandmother, Small Burro will not come. I have coaxed and threatened him but he will not budge.”

“Is anything the matter with him?” Wise One asked.

“Not that I can see. He is standing, but he will not leave his shelter.”

“He wants me to coax him.” Wise One put her head out of the hogan and clicked her tongue. “Come along, little bad burro.” Then she set all their belongings outside
the hogan ready to load. Still Small Burro did not come.

Grandmother went to the shelter followed by the children. As soon as she was close enough, Small Burro nuzzled her arm. She scratched his ears and rubbed his muzzle. “Now come along, bad boy, we are in a hurry.” Small Burro braced his feet. He would not move.

Kee said, “Of all the stupid animals, a stubborn burro is the stupidest. Gray Dog would never act like that.”

Wise One walked out of the enclosure and picked up a stick. She shook it in front of Small Burro. “Come out of that shelter or for the first time in your life I shall beat you.” She tugged at the rope.

The donkey moved his long ears back and forth, rolled his eyes, but did not budge. Grandmother walked back and whacked Small Burro on the flank as hard as she could.

The children's mouths flew open. They were as surprised as the donkey. Before Wise One could drop the stick and get hold of the rope, Small Burro trotted out of the shelter to the hogan and stood still to be loaded.

All morning, as they trudged along the road, Wise One held Small Burro's lead rope. She kept telling him what a fine burro he was. She pointed to bits of grass poking through the thin layer of snow and waited for him to eat them. He occasionally nuzzled her shoulder to let her know she was forgiven.

When afternoon shadows began to lengthen, Wise One pointed to a clump of piñon trees away from the trail. “We will camp there for the night,” she said.

Kee hunted pieces of bark and twigs to start a fire. Soon they were warming themselves as they rested on sheepskins. Gray Dog had his head against Kee's leg. Suddenly he threw his head back and sniffed, then dashed away through the trees. Anxious to see what Gray Dog had scented, Kee ran after him.

When he came to an open space away from the trees, Kee saw Gray Dog had killed a rabbit and was about to tear it apart. The boy knew the dog was hungry and he hated to take the rabbit away from him. But they were all hungry. Kee shouted at Gray Dog. With one paw on the rabbit the dog looked up, then bent his head again to tear at it. Kee shouted angrily, “Get away.” Tail between his legs, Gray Dog slunk away. Picking up the rabbit, Kee hurried back to camp. The dog followed at a distance.

On seeing the rabbit, Hasba clapped her hands. Wise One found her knife and knelt to skin it. Kee could see his dog lying some distance away watching. “Grandmother, Gray Dog caught the rabbit for himself. I took it away from him. He is hungry, too.”

Wise One stood up. Pushing Kee's black hair away from his forehead, she said, “He is a good dog. We will give him his share of the rabbit.”

At dawn the next morning the little family was walking again. About the middle of the afternoon they came out on the brow of a hill overlooking the valley where Fort Defiance stood. They gazed down on a group of log and adobe buildings, a collection of old mud pigsties, and corrals filled with hundreds of sheep.

As they started down the long hill, Gray Dog began to whimper and run ahead of the family. “Call him back, Kee,” Wise One said. He is itching to herd those sheep. He may get into trouble.” Two soldiers with guns were walking up and down near the corrals.

Kee shouted at Gray Dog. The dog returned, whimpering and running in circles around Kee. The boy put down the things he was carrying. He took the dog's head in his hands. “I know how you feel about the sheep. Someday we will get some sheep again for you to herd. Now stay with me.”

Hasba said, “I wish we could tell which are our sheep. They were our friends. In those big corrals they all look alike.”

“I hate the white man for stealing them.” Kee told his grandmother.

“Hate will not bring back the sheep,” Wise One said. “Hate can do nothing but hurt the one who hates.”

On the way down the hill they stopped to talk with several family groups who had set up camp. A few had tents supplied by the army. With the large number of Navajos arriving daily the supply had soon been exhausted. Some Indians had made brush shelters. Others camped on open ground with only blankets or pieces of canvas for protection.

Wise One asked each group if anyone had seen Strong Man or heard what happened to him. No one knew anything about him.

A chilly wind began to blow by the time they reached the bottom of the hill. Wise One was anxious to find a place to camp before the winter day ended. Opposite the fort parade grounds she saw a narrow wash. A few families were camped at the opening. Leading Small Burro, she skirted around the campers and went into the wash until she came to a scraggly little juniper tree growing sideways out of the bank. She tied the donkey to the tree and began to unload. “We will be warmer down here in the wash than on the hill. It will protect us from the wind.”

Bugle notes sounded through the chill winter air. A woman called up the wash, “Old One, that is the call for us to go to the fort for food. Bring something to carry it in.”

Wise One carried two flat round baskets when she and the children lined up with other Navajos on the parade grounds. At the doorway of an adobe warehouse where supplies were handed out, a soldier dumped a dipperful of white stuff into one basket. Another soldier dumped a dipperful of red beans into the other, and a third soldier handed Kee a small slab of bacon. Wise One gave Hasba a basket to carry. “What is this white stuff, Grandmother? Is it to eat?”

Kee put a pinch of it in his mouth. He spit and spit. “It is poison, I think.”

A woman behind Wise One spoke. “No, it is not poison. It is flour. The white people use it all the time. A soldier told us to mix a little water with it and cook it in thin cakes on a hot rock. It does not taste good but it is something to eat.”