Chapter 12

We had been on the road for two days when Joe came up to me as I was getting ready to leave on patrol. "Pa Jeff, kin me an' John start learnin' ta drive oxen. There ain't nothin' much fer either one of us ta do, soz we're gittin' kinda bored."

"Sure thing, Joe. Let's go talk to Mr. Jackson about finding y'all a place to learn. (Notice that I am starting to pick up some of the speech habits.) He'll know the best place for you to start."

We found Abe, and I explained the situation to him. "Sure, Jeff, ya just leave everythin' ta me. Joe, ya fetch John, an' I'll find ya a place ta start."

I thanked Abe for helping me out and found Running Fox to get going. When I told Running Fox why I was a little late, he laughed and said, "Ha! Now you know one of the joys of being a father. You have to find ways to keep your children amused and out from underfoot."

We were following the same route back to Tucson that we had followed out to Yuma, but the wind moved the sand around so much that we still had to check for the best route to take the wagons through, especially that one so heavily loaded with salt. Also, we had to be just as alert for hostile Indians as we traveled in this direction as we did when we traveled the other way. We heard that the Yaquis were on a rampage through the territory, so we had to be especially wary of them. At the same time, we could not ignore Navajos or Chiricahua Apaches. Eventually, we would run into Comanches, but that would be on the other side of Tucson.

We had gone about seven miles ahead of the wagon train when we ran across some tracks that Running Fox said had to be Yaquis. Well, I certainly was not going to argue with him, since he was the expert on this sort of thing, but the main thing I was interested in was whether they were a threat to the wagon train. Running Fox snorted when I mentioned that and commented, "Yaquis are always a threat, no matter which way they seem to be headed." I wasn't going to argue that with him, either, because I agreed with him wholeheartedly.

We continued to scout the route, rather than chase after the Indians, because that was what Abe Jackson wanted, and he was the boss. We pushed ahead for the assigned 15 miles and turned back to the wagon train. Oh, damn! There were the Yaqui tracks, and they were headed toward the wagon train just like we were. Running Fox estimated that there might be as many as 12-15 warriors in the party, an unusually large one for Yaquis.

We put on some more speed in hope of catching up to the Yaquis before they reached the wagons. We got lucky, if you could call it that, because we ran into them comfortably this side of the wagons. We really were lucky in that we caught them by surprise, so they did not have time to set up an ambush for us.

These Yaquis may have been surprised, but that did not keep them from shooting at us. Fortunately, they began to shoot while we were at too long a range, so neither we nor our horses were hit. We turned around and rode as fast as we could to a fairly high and steep-sided sand hill that was not far away. We wanted them to follow us and not approach the wagon train, and we got our wish.

The Yaquis were on foot, as usual, so we had no trouble in getting to the hill before them, but it was still closer than I liked. We were forced to leave our horses at the bottom of the hill on the side away from the Yaquis, though we figured that it would quickly become unimportant as the fight progressed. I took both of my rifles, all of my spare ammunition, my water, and some emergency food. Running Fox did the same, except that he had only one rifle.

The hill was steep enough that we had to struggle to the top, a factor which was to our great advantage. The steepness would keep the Yaquis from overrunning us in a human-wave charge. We had a few minutes to get set and for me to arrange my Remington ammunition on my lucky bandana. I waited until the Yaquis had crossed that magical 500-yard line before I shot at them. This was well out of range of the average shooter with a Winchester, but well within my range with the Remington buffalo rifle.

Running Fox kept a general lookout so that we would not be surprised while I concentrated on shooting as many of the Yaquis as I could while we were safe from their return fire. It turned out that I counted 15 Yaquis in the party, so I had my work cut out for me. I hoped to kill every one that I hit, but my main job was to cause a wound bad enough to keep them from killing us or the wagon train people. I really liked the people on the wagon train, but I had no illusions about their chances of standing off a determined party of attacking Yaquis. I now had a family to protect, too, so I was heavily concentrating on my job.

The lead Yaqui was my first target and I put a bullet into his torso—it was a little difficult to tell at this range exactly where I did hit him. Wherever it was, he went down like a sack of sand and did not twitch when he got to the ground. The rest of the Yaquis were very surprised that I could score a hit at this range, so they slowed down in disbelief. That was just what I needed, and I was able to shoot two more before they started moving again. The fate of those two was the same as with the first Yaqui, so I knew that I was living up to the Marine sniper code—one shot, one kill.

Those men ran spectacularly well through that sand. It was hard packed, but it was sand, so I was a bit surprised at how fast they were moving. I hit four more of the Yaquis before they got close enough to do their own shooting. The powder smoke had now accumulated around me to the point that I was going to have to move. I could barely see through the smoke so I moved about 15 feet to my right. Running Fox came with me, but we left our water and food behind at this point. We knew that we would have to move again very soon, so our next move would be back toward the food and water.

At this point, we had eight Yaqui warriors to fight, and they were getting too close to make the added accuracy of the Remington outweigh the rapid fire of the Winchesters. The Yaquis were now around 250 yards away. That was a long shot for a Winchester with black powder cartridges, but Running Fox and I were classifiable as experts with that rifle, so I figured that we could expend a little bit of ammunition before the Yaquis moved any closer.

I nodded to Running Fox as I laid down my Remington and picked up my Winchester. We both started firing at about the same time, and our bullets were landing much too close for comfort for the Yaquis. On the other hand, they could see that they would have to get closer before they would have much chance of hitting either one of us.

The only cover down in front of us was the cactus, some of which was large in diameter. The Yaquis would dash from one to the next one large enough to have a chance at concealing them from our sight. Fat chance! We were watching closely, and we easily kept track of which cactus was hiding a Yaqui. Once a Yaqui settled into place behind a cactus, that cactus was an immediate target. Those .44-40 bullets went through the cactus like it was a wet sponge.

The bullets might have been deflected somewhat by passing through the cactus, and they might have been slowed somewhat by passing through the cactus, but the Yaquis didn't notice! It was a temptation to shoot at the Yaquis as they ran in the open, but it was totally unnecessary. I couldn't figure out what the Yaquis thought they were accomplishing by hiding behind the cactus, but the plants did nothing to help them.

Running Fox and I killed all of the Yaquis by the time they got to within 100 yards. We had the perfect defensive position and took full advantage of it. I honestly don't know what the Yaquis could have done differently to change the outcome of the battle. Sure, they did make it a little easier for us by remaining in our front, but we would have done just as well if they had surrounded us.

We gathered up our belongings and made sure that all of the Yaquis were dead. Wow! That first Yaqui I shot had been a chest shot, just as I had been aiming for. Man, my luck was holding much better than I could have wished for. We rode back to the wagons and I found Abe to report.