Carmen Navarro Chapter Seven: Cajeme
The overnight camp was hard: only tepid water from their canteens to drink, little to eat since they must ration provisions, no fire to keep them warm. When darkness fell, they both remained awake, but in no mood to discuss anything. Dawn crept slowly over the horizon but Mano insisted they wait until the sun was at least up a little into the sky before lighting a tiny fire so that they could both drink something hot. They chewed beef jerky and cold tortillas, good food compared to what they might have been left with, had they rushed out of Casa Cueva with nothing.
While they sipped coffee, Mano speculated on the men they were following. "I think they must know my family because otherwise that was a rash and foolish thing to do, stealing a horse as obviously good looking and expensive as Toronado."
"Except, mebbe they seen it was a heckuva horse and jes thought, let's steal that and sell him for a lot of money."
"Yes, but then why go toward Mexico City? Hermosillo is closer and there is a good market for horses there. No, there is purpose in this theft."
"Well, do you reckon they wuz trying to get at you? I mean, somethin' personal?"
"How would they know Toronado was connected to me? They must have watched him being ridden out of Casa Montoya, and then they struck when they were far enough away to be sure no one from the hacienda could come out to give aid."
"They makin' this horse theft real personal though, Mano, if they wuz watchin' your rancho. They musta know'd that horse was important."
"Sí, estoy de acuerdo. But what is their purpose? They seem to have no intention of selling him and yet they continue on this road leading to Mexico City. It is curious and I cannot see whom they wish to hurt, but they must think this would hurt someone. I do not know."
"Well, amigo, sittin' ain't gonna get it done. Let's saddle up an' head on out."
Just before noon, they crested a rise and saw, down in the draw below, two men leading, or at least trying to lead, a shining black horse. "Ay, Toronado!" Mano exclaimed in a soft voice, edged with concern.
"Well, they shore don't look like no comancheros to me. Course I may be wrong," Buck observed.
"Buck, they are certainly the thieves, because even you cannot fail to recognize the finest stallion in the entire world. Magnifico!"
"Well, he's purely a miracle worker, but in the whole world? I dunno, Mano, he's got his daddy's reputation to beat first."
"Es verdad! But this he will do. Look at him, compadre: he is fighting them and making their lives difficult. Ay, what a horse!"
The men struggled to control the stallion and even at this distance could be seen swatting at him with short riding whips, which he dodged with nimble moves. They tried to draw him alongside one of their horses, but he would have none of it. Mano judged it time they caught up with these muchachos. We shall show you fools how to treat such a noble creature, he thought. Buck had already reached a similar conclusion.
"Mano, let's us split up," Buck whispered. "Come at 'em from opposite directions. You circle on up ahead of 'em, down the other side of this ridge here. I'll come up behind 'em. I'll take it slow to give you time an' you do the same." Mano nodded in agreement at the whispered directions and turned Macadoo back up over the ridge.
Buck dismounted and descended at a slow, quiet pace, using as cover every piece of rock or scrub he could find. Once he reached the bottom of the draw, he found himself some distance behind the thieves. He walked Rebel, staying in the scrub or loose sand so the noise of the horse's hooves would not alert those in front. Up ahead Mano could hear the men now cursing in Spanish and calling for all kinds of evil to befall his excellent Toronado. He drew his pistola and urged Macadoo into a trot, which brought him in front of the thieves.
As he neared them, they spied him and started to draw their weapons. "Uh uh," Mano called out. "Señores se caen sus armas… por favor! En seguida!" The men turned round and saw Buck behind, now mounted and approaching, pistol drawn, eyes cold. Caught between two guns, they had no choice but to comply.
"Ah señores, sí por supuesto!" the older thief replied with a grimace. Using only a finger and thumb, he plucked his gun from its holster and dropped the weapon to the ground. His companion hesitated, until Buck cocked his pistol. Then the second man surrendered his firearm as well.
"Gracias" Buck mumbled, dismounting while Mano kept the men covered. Buck gathered up the men's guns and stowed them in his saddle bag.
"Abajo!" Mano gestured with his pistola for the men to get down.
"Shall we have us a little talk, gentlemen?" Buck, eyes fierce and mouth close to a sneer, asked as he strode to the two and seized the reins of Toronado while Mano, unblinking, kept his pistol aimed at the hombres. Somethin' mighty odd about these two, Buck figured. Wearin' some kinda uniform instead of reg'lar clothes. I wonder to whose army you belong? Mano thought.
"Aw right, gents let's do us some straight talking. You boys savvy English?" Buck asked, unsmiling. The older nodded yes and Buck gestured for the men to begin. The older shrugged his shoulders and started to speak.
"We are soldiers in the employ of Generalísimo Jose Casados," he said.
"Casados?!" Mano exclaimed "What has he to do with the theft of a horse?"
The younger soldier barked, "Do not say any more, Felipe!"
"Felipe," Mano said, "you will tell me what I wish to know. What has General Casados to do with this theft?" As he spoke, Mano cocked his pistola and pointed it at a very delicate portion of Felipe's anatomy. Sweat broke out on the old man's brow and he gulped for air.
"Señor," Felipe swallowed and continued. "I do not know the whole story, but General Casados was very angry with a man who owed him much money. Gambling debts, I believe. This man came to see the general some weeks ago and told him a story about another man with whom the general had long been angry. This story seemed to amuse the general, because he laughed very loudly. We could hear this outside the door."
"Ah, I see. So the man who came to see the general, you saw him?" Mano asked.
"Sí, señor"
Mano rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek, thinking. "And his appearance, could you describe it?" he asked, again pointing his gun at Felipe, just below the man's waist.
"Sí. He was about the same height as I, not tall, but quite a large hombre, el gordo...if you know what I mean. He was going bald, but kept a few strands of hair pulled across the top of his head."
"Sounds like one ugly hombre," Buck began. "Any idea who it could be, Mano?"
"Shhh! Momento," Mano interrupted Buck, shaking his head. "Felipe, why were you taking the horse down to Mexico City?"
"Oh no, señor, we were not trying to do that. El General said that we should take the horse to Cajeme, where he has a contact in a small slaughterhouse and the horse could then easily be disposed of. He did not want the money for him, but he said we should go slowly. We were to kill anyone who followed. We shot the man who rode this stallion and we did not think others would learn of the theft for some time."
"Sí, Felipe, it is all your fault, bruto! I told you we should have been checking our back trail." The younger soldier spat, disgusted.
"Callate, Raúl," Felipe responded. "You know that horse made our lives impossible. I almost shot it myself. We could not check both the trail and control him."
Mano's eyes narrowed. "Felipe, you and your friend will have to be tied up for a while," he said.
"No, we will not submit to this!" the younger one shouted, although Buck noticed the kid was careful not to move much, just squirmed a little.
"Be quiet, Raúl. They are pointing guns at us. Do you think we have a choice?" Felipe demanded. Raúl scowled but said nothing further.
"Very wise, Felipe, very wise. Live to steal horses another day, eh? Now you will both oblige us by sitting on the ground," Mano said, his voice cool but with an edge.
Raúl snarled and jerked his head back, attempting a little resistance to save face, but with two loaded pistols trained on him, he could do nothing, so he joined his companion on the ground. With Mano covering them, Buck looped ropes about their wrists and ankles, tying secure knots which he tested by yanking. Their enemies bound, Mano and Buck drew back a little, under the guise of soothing Toronado.
"Buck, it would seem that some people I know may have an excellent reason for stealing the stallion."
"Who?"
"Hombre, you will not believe this, but the man Felipe described sounds much like the brother of my Carmen, Don Carlos de Vargas."
"Whut? You gotta be kiddin'."
"I wish I were, Buck. Of course, there are many rotund balding men in Mexico City...it is possible that it was another, but…"
"But how many fat bald men is interested in Montoya business? My daddy taught me not to believe in coincidences, Mano," Buck observed.
"Exactly, Buck. We must confirm my suspicions," Mano said, his tone thoughtful.
"I don't know what we gonna do with these two fools," Buck said. "They's tied purty tight an' they ain't going nowhere, but we can't jus leave 'em here."
"Sí. Much as I would like to," Mano agreed. "Buck, I have an idea. Cajeme is, oh, twenty miles from here. The land is flat on the way, an easy trip. And there is a jail. We cannot manage Toronado and these, eh, gentlemen by ourselves. If I am not mistaken, the son of an old friend of my father may still be jefe of the rurales there. Perhaps we can prevail upon him to detain our guests for us, at least till we return."
"Return? Return from where?"
"From Mexico City, hombre! We must discover the truth about the involvement of General Casados and my future brother-in-law. We have no choice. We must know what is behind all this."
"You mean we's goin' after Casados? That hombre you an' yore uncle had a run in with? Are you plumb loco? I thought you wanted to be alive to marry that little gal."
"I do, Buck, I do. But unless this matter is settled, it will be safe for me to marry no one. Come on, compadre!"
"What are we gonna do with Toronado? We cain't jes head on into Mexico City with 'im."
"I have an idea about Toronado as well, but, ah, what does Big John say, one potato at a time, eh?"
"Aw right, but what if your friend ain't in Caha...Cahay—whatever you said—no more?"
"Hmm. Then two choices remain," Mano spoke louder so that the two trussed up thieves would hear. "We can leave them in the desert without boots or water, but alive. Or we can shoot them and let the coyotes consume their remains. Which we may have to do anyway if they give us any trouble as we go to Cajeme. Entendéis, hombres?"
Felipe said nothing, Raúl sneered. But they complied as Buck loosed the ropes securing their ankles and ordered them to stand up and mount up. Mano and he rode behind them, pistols pointed at their backs. "You boys better take care," Buck warned them. "I don't miss what I shoot at."
Mano also wound the rope attached to Toronado a few times around his saddle horn to lead the horse. The stallion, now around familiar horses and men, calmed a bit and they started for Cajeme. Along the path, two Yaquis, one old man and a young boy on foot, leading a donkey laden with blankets and branches, paused to stare at them as they passed and continued watching them in stoic silence long down the trail. It was unnerving, but Mano knew Yaquis liked to intimidate, yet rarely attacked without the advantage of numbers.
Soon the bustling city of Cajeme appeared before them, boasting white buildings, numerous businesses, an opera house, and many churches. A large market featuring colorful stalls, chickens, and a variety of vendors offering wares filled the streets off the central avenue. Beyond the wash of gaudy primary color, Mano and Buck spied the office of the rurales, with the jail attached, down one such side street. Mano avoided most rurales, but it would not do for a gringo like Buck to approach them, and perhaps the jefe was, in fact, his old friend. One could hope, and in this case, his hopes were rewarded.
"Mano!" the jefe exclaimed when he saw him.
It was indeed Captain Salvador Estrello who served as jefe of the rurales in Cajeme. His father had been Don Sebastian's friend as a boy in Hermosillo, where Estrello had also grown up. He remembered Manolito from his family's visits to the Rancho Montoya, although it had been many years. Though glad to see an old friend, Estrello frowned at the two men Mano brought with him at gunpoint into the jail. Peering out the dusty window, Estrello also wondered just who was that gringo outside with that magnificent stallion.
"Hola, Salvador," Mano opened. "I have brought you some guests. Will you please lock them up while I explain?" Estrello, frowning still, shoved the two prisoners into a cell as Mano mentioned who they were and for whom they worked.
"These are the men of Casados?" Estrello exclaimed as he clanged shut the cell door and secured the lock. "Manolito, amigo, my jail is for the drunk and disorderly, cattle rustlers, horse thieves...not soldiers in the private army of Casados. When he discovers what I have done…"
"Salvador, these are horse thieves and you can see what they stole outside, which we have recovered," Mano began, shifting his voice to add in a sober tone, "They also shot Valencio Ruiz."
"Ruiz! No!" Estrello well remembered the kind gentleman who had taught him to ride as a niño. "The stable master of Don Sebastian?"
"Sí. I just need you to keep them for a few days. If Ruiz dies, I shall retrieve them and take them to Casa Cueva, where they will stand trial for murder and most certainly hang...if I do not shorten the course of justice by killing them myself." Mano said this so the prisoners would hear.
"And what if Ruiz lives?"
"If Ruiz lives, let them go. But please wait one week. We shall press no charges. The incident will be," Mano glanced at the thieves, "forgotten."
"All right, amigo. For Ruiz I will do this."
"Gracias, amigo," Mano clapped his hand on Estrello's shoulder. Lowering his voice, he added, "Walk with me outside por favor, for just a moment. Act as though you are telling me adiós."
This would be no act, thought Estrello, hoping Mano would indeed go. But making a pretense of bidding an old friend farewell, he followed Manolito outside. With the door shut behind them, Mano spoke to the jefe in a low voice. "Salvador, do not keep these men a week. Let them go in, oh, four or five days. I will hunt them down myself if Ruiz dies. We just need them out of the way while we go to pay General Casados a visit."
"Casados! Are you loco, Mano?"
"That's what I been askin' him, Señor Jefe," Buck observed as he walked up. Mano glanced at both men, realizing he had better make introductions.
"Perdoname, Salvador, may I present my friend Buck Cannon?" Estrello and Buck nodded at each other. "Now to our present business," Mano resumed. "If you keep them five days, you can say that you have received word that Ruiz is dying and you do not wish to be responsible for their deaths as well. You are letting them go. I suggest you not return their guns. Make it a little tough on them, eh? We will not have time to come back for them, but I want them to think that we would. This way, they will be in your debt and you should experience no retribution."
"And what of you?"
"Well, hombre," Mano sighed. "I see things one of two ways. If we succeed in our dealings with Casados, these two will have no significance. Casados may even be looking to kill them himself." He put his hands on his hips, looked out on the street, and exhaled with vigor.
"And if you don't?"
"The way I see it, Señor Estrello, if we ain't successful with Casados, we prob'ly gonna be dead anyway," Buck said.
"Es verdad," Mano shrugged and laughed. "Either way, hombre…"
"One thing I do not understand. Why won't you have time to come back for these two?"
At this Mano grinned and put his hand on Estrello's shoulder, giving him a light friendly shove. "Have you not heard, Salvador? I am getting married, amigo!"
Estrello shook his head in disbelief but extended his hand, which Mano shook. "Vaya con Dios, amigo," Estrello said. Still shaking his head, incredulous, he walked back in into the jail. He would check on his prisoners and take their horses to the livery. Perhaps by then, Mano and his friend would be gone.
"C'mon, lover boy. Let's get outta here while the gettin's good," Buck said. "Whoa, boy," he spoke to Toronado, rubbing and patting the horse's mane. "Agin, I ask you, Mano, what we gonna do with Toronado?"
"I believe we shall make an appearance at the rancho of my beloved, Buck. I do not know what else to do. It is not far, a little southwest of here, maybe ten miles."
Buck shrugged, shook his head and mounted up. They set out at an easy jog, Toronado in tow.
None can copyright the characters of "The High Chaparral," for that has been done, but the authors do claim the creation of others, especially Carmen Navarro (whose first name comes from a David Dortort script proposal), Rancho Navarro, the entire Vargas and Santos clans, Valencio Ruiz, Teresa Lauder, and Delgado, whose appearance, we trust, may remind our readers of an older Henry Darrow.
