Chapter 19

Sam’s brother sat down with him the next day right about the time that the sun was at the point when no living creature or inanimate feature cast a familiar shadow in any direction.

They both ignored the womenfolk because it was not really a visit of familial devotion.

Saul had discovered the reinforcing cavalry troop had some wanted posters for him for a long forgotten shootout over irritating conflict about water rights in the valley after the Texas beef herds got established in the area. Sam remembered the incident and the fact that it was actually he that had downed the Ferguson brothers and not his brother. Folks generally tended to confuse them from time to time due to the fact that they were both tall and lanky and usually shot first and asked questions after.

Sam had to admit his brother had a more than an excuse to be riled.

Sue and her protégé Nettie sat in the shade of a canvas cover to shield them from the bright sunlight that withered the grass and weeds alike in the periods of absent rain. All Sam could think about was how stressful life on top of the mesa would be for the remaining warriors under Geronimo’s command.

“It seems to me, Brother Saul that it might be wise for you to head south of the border for a spell because they don’t take kindly to professed murderers in Indian Territory.”

Saul’s hand was hovering in that no man’s land only inches from the handle of his shooting iron and Sam began to wonder if there was a special place in Hell for gents that shot their own blood relative even in the dire circumstances of possibly being sent there first with a blast from his own brother’s handgun.

Still, it wasn’t his fault that their enemies up in the State capital were using the lack of law enforcement to rouse forces against them from a distance and that they could falsely accuse them of almost any heinous crime without much interference from their bribed compatriots. It was harassment plain and simple and he was tempted to shuck his weapons and show his brother with his fists the exact depth of his stupidity. His reaction was exactly what the anti-beef interests were hoping for when they were unable to defeat them by direct confrontation. If they could split the other side with such lies then there was no need to risk getting ventilated in some chaotic gunfight where the outcome was never a sure thing.

The cook’s wagon was surrounded with the Cochise band because they had empty bellies without the rations that the troopers carried with them in their saddlebags. The troopers were loath to share with the warriors because of understandable hard feeling after the debacle at the Little Big Horn. The General who was no longer a General in the eyes of the War Department was well-liked by the men in the lower ranks and was still a hero in the eyes of the general public that loved to have a good-looking military type to admire at a distance.

In fact, there was some such similar sentiment about the scourge of the frontier, Geronimo himself because the wrinkled face and determined face of evil was strangely respected by folks with little chance of ever being hung upside down over an Apache campfire slowly being slaughtered in the hatred of the genocidal war against the Native Americans still resident in the western regions. His picture was seen by women and little children with the admonishment that if they didn’t behave they would be given to the evil man and he would admonish their punishment with little concern over the protections that generally were granted to womenfolk and little ones in the proximity of grown men fighting to the bitter end.

Sam had given the cook the order to feed Cochise and his detachment of warriors the same as the troopers much to the chagrin of the Captain of the cavalry with a bone to pick with any Indian off the reservation and fair game for his unspoken but unmistakable wrath.

Saul decided it was time for him to head down to the senoritas and the cantinas for some reflection on his prior errors in judgement. He was fired up with the unfairness of it all since he was only a follower and not the leader like his brother and his particular brand of frontier justice at the end of his six-guns and his direct solution for righting wrongs and enforcing a civilized society that showed no bias to anyone willing to live by the Good Book and be a good neighbor.

Saul rode away from the mesa never looking back because he didn’t like the feeling being the prey and not being the hunter.

He was trailed by one of the Indian females on a painted pony and some saddlebags filled with provisions from the larder of the detachment to sustain them until they reached some settlement south of the border that didn’t have a hidden hatred of the “gringos” from up north for some past ill treatment. He had a full purse thanks to Sam and all he had in mind was to find a safe place to rest until the unpleasantness in the valley had passed sufficient for him to return and find his place at the table once again.

More importantly, the sound of Indians slowly descending the steep trail from the top of the mesa had the entire force on alert closely watching the surrender of Geronimo and his warriors with empty hands and faces etched in stone without any hint of their inner thoughts at their humiliation as prisoners of the posse.

Sam kept errors from the past in mind as he insured that all of the detainees were properly shackled with handcuffs and leg irons. It would be a slow trip back with the Indians walking but slow and safe was a lot better than some risky alternative taken for the reason of making a faster journey back to the fort and civilization.

He knew that most of the men under his command figured that Geronimo would be strung up along with his compadres but Sam knew the upper levels of authority were already convinced that it was far too important to let Geronimo become a symbol of martyrdom to the remaining hordes of Indian tribesmen in the western regions. It was a time to be lenient with the violent murderer for the sake of protecting vulnerable wagon trains of settlers already on the dusty trails west for further development. Such development was much needed for the chance of success in the western frontier and Indians safely on the reservation was one element that was necessary for that success.