Home of the Brave (16 page)

~

The Johnson’s farm proved to
be several hundred acres of cotton, a thousand of alfalfa and many
smaller plots of vegetables, plus a budding orchard. The main house
was built of adobes with peeled tree trunks as beams supporting a
flat roof. The kitchen was a separate building half way between the
main house and a long adobe bunkhouse. The barns and other
outbuildings were frame with rough-sawn lap siding produced in Mr.
Johnson’s water powered mill.

“West Point,” Mr. Johnson
said. “Seems like a waste of a good education to come out here and
herd cows.”

“Have another ear of corn,
Mr. Van Buskirk?” Mrs. Johnson asked.

Thomas took one of the small
ears from the offered platter with a pair of wooden tongs. “I must
say that this is the best corn I’ve ever tasted.”

“Young corn, just barely
ripe,” Mr. Johnson replied. “We get two crops a year but we’re a
few weeks early for the harvest. This corn here was knocked down by
some wild longhorns. Waste not, want not, I always say.”

“Are there many of those
longhorns around here?” Jane asked.

Johnson shook his head. “A
few once in a while get into the corn but usually somebody shoots
‘em for meat before they get this far. There used to be a band of
Wichitas that lived up river. They kept ‘em cleared off. That was
until a wild bunch of vaqueros from San Antonio de Béxar shot up
their village for no good reason.”

“I’ve heard they moved
north, up the bend of the Brazos,” Mrs. Johnson said.

“That’s where the big herds
of cattle are,” Johnson added. “Buffalo too. North and east of the
Hueco village.”

Thomas wiped butter off his
lips with a napkin. “And horses, I hear.”

“Mustangs,” Johnson said.
“Small. Not much good for nothin’. The Indians eat ‘em. They don’t
seem to care whether they eat beef or horse. Me, I don’t like horse
meat.”

“They don’t seem to care if
the animals are wild or the property of others either,” Mrs.
Johnson said. “My sister and her husband have a big dairy herd and
the Indians are always taking their Guernsey cows for meat, even
though there are wild cattle, buffalo and deer
everywhere.”

“Is there any kind of law to
deal with that?” Thomas asked.

Johnson nodded. “The Texas
Rangers, but there’s only two or three hundred of ‘em scattered
across the whole state. They operate in companies from rough little
forts here and there.”

“My husband has a contract
to survey the area north of here between the Neches and the
Colorado rivers,” Jane said. “Would it be safe for us to go up
there alone or would we need to hire some men?”

“Safe?” Johnson shook his
head. “I should say not. I wouldn’t wander up around there with
less than fifty armed men. Maybe more up on the Colorado. The
Comanches up there are mounted and hostile. Not like these Wichitas
and Caddo around here. And if you go west of the Colorado yer
liable to bump into Apaches or Kiowa and they’re even worse than
Comanches. To the east, they’re Cherokees, and they may be the
worst of all.”

“How would I go about
recruiting reliable men?” Thomas asked.

“Men is easy,” Johnson
answered. “Reliable is hard.”

“How about Caleb Hatfields’
hands?” Mrs. Johnson suggested. She looked at Jane and Thomas.
“Caleb was gored by a bull last week so his wife took him back East
and left the ranch without even lookin’ back. His ranch hands are
still out there takin’ care of the herd, but they’ll quit when they
don’t get paid on the first of next month.”

“I wonder if we could buy
the ranch and stock from Mrs. Hatfield,” Jane said.

“It’s too small and
overgrazed,” Johnson said. “You’d be better off just buyin’ the
stock and free grazin’.”

“What’s that?” Jane asked.
“Free grazing?”

“Just movin’ the herd on the
open range,” Johnson replied. “Of course you gotta make sure you
don’t accidently cross land that’s owned by some rancher or he’s
like to shoot you and steal your cows.”

“People do that?” Jane said
in amazement. “Free graze, I mean?”

Johnson nodded. “Some of the
biggest herds down south are run by Mexicans that don’t own a lick
of land. They fatten the cows on free grass all summer then drive
‘em to market in New Orleans the next fall. Not a bad business if
you don’t mind sleepin’ out in the open.”

“We could do that,” Jane
said to Thomas. “We could move the herd wherever you were surveying
and gather wild cattle as we went.”

Thomas looked at Mr.
Johnson. “Is that feasible?”

“Feasible?”

“Does it make
sense?”

“Sure. Why not? The land yer
surveyin’ can’t belong to anybody until you survey it, so it’s open
range.”

“How would I go about buying
Mr. Hatfield’s stock?” Thomas asked.

“Just give the goin’ price
of beeves on the hoof to Colonel Austin and let him figure out how
to get the money to Caleb or Genevieve,” Johnson said. “Just make
sure you register the sale and keep the bill so you can prove
they’re yours. You’ll need to get your own earmark too, if you aim
to gather wild cows.”

Thomas nodded. “These cattle
that we’re speaking of, the Hatfield’s, are they
longhorns?”

“Yup,” Johnson confirmed.
“People keep tryin’ different breeds but they don’t make it out
here.”

May 5, 1829

Washington, District of
Columbia

The doorman gawked at Marina
as she walked up the steps. “This is a gentlemen’s club,
Madam.”

“I know,” she said. “I have
business with Doña Carlotta.”

“There’s a business entrance
on the side.” He pointed. “Down the alley. I’ll tell somebody to
let you in. Please have your driver park your carriage down the
street.”

Marina nodded, backtracked
to the sidewalk, gave the driver instructions and walked to the
alley. Toward the rear, a woman was holding a door open. Marina
raised her hand.

~

Marina was admiring the
office when Carlotta came in. “This is very nice. I was hoping to
see what you’d done to the front lobby but the doorman wouldn’t let
me in.”

“I’ll take you upstairs and
you can look through the peepholes, if you want.” Carlotta offered
Marina a fat envelope. “This is the last payment. Thank you
again.”

Marina shook her head.
“That’s not why I came.”

“I was going to come to you
next Monday. You saved me a trip.” She tried to force the money on
Marina.

“I really don’t need the
money. Keep it as operating capital and if you’re still doing well
next year I might take it.”

Carlotta sighed. “I should
know better than to argue with you by now.” She opened a drawer,
put the envelope inside, then closed and locked the drawer. “So, do
you want the peepshow?”

Marina shook her head. “I
need a favor.”

“Name it and it’s
done.”

“Not so fast. It’s a big
one.”

“There’s nothing you can ask
for that I wouldn’t do for you. Absolutely nothing.”

May 18, 1829

Washington, District of
Columbia

Congressman David Crockett
of Tennessee paced the length of the room. “I just can’t understand
a man like you supportin’ this legislation, General.”

“I don’t support it, Davy,”
Yank said, “nor do I oppose it. I’m not, and never will be,
political.”

“This has got nothin’
whatsoever to do with politics, General. It’s about regular,
every-day human decency. Everybody knows that the passage of this
act means the inevitable removal of every Indian east of the
Mississippi. Tribes that don’t voluntarily sign treaties are gonna
be coerced into it.”

Yank chuckled.

“What’s funny about
that?”

“Davy Crockett using words
like
inevitable
and
coerced
.”

Crockett looked annoyed.
“All I’m askin’ you to do is get me in to talk to
Jackson.”

“If I mentioned your name,
he’d shoot me.”

“So you won’t help
me.”

“You don’t seem to
understand, Davy. It isn’t that I won’t, I can’t.”

The Congressman shook his
head disgustedly. “The entire world knows that you’re about to
embark for Chicago as Jackson’s most trusted advisor.”

“If President Jackson trusts
me it’s probably because I don’t give him advice that he doesn’t
ask for or that I know nothing about. This Indian Removal Act is
both of those.”

“How can you say that you
don’t know anything about it?”

“Easy. I don’t.”

“It’s a simple thing.
Jackson’s government wants a legal way to steal land from the
Indians.”

“Oh, hell, Davy. One
government or another’s been stealing land from the Indians since
the first white man set foot in the New World. Defeating one piece
of legislation isn’t going to stop that.”

“No, but it might stop
another Indian war.”

“There will be Indian wars
as long as there are whites and Indians.”

“Not if the Indians are left
in peace on their traditional lands.”

“You can’t really believe
that, Davy.”

“I most certainly do,
General, and I’ll ask you not to call me Davy.”

Yank stood up. “Nice seeing
you again, Private Crockett.”

~

“I don’t understand why
you’re so upset,” Marina said. “You hardly knew him in the first
place, and haven’t seen him in years, in the second.”

Yank shrugged. “I really
like him, Marina. I saw the spunk and intelligence in him back then
and now he’s grown into a fine man.”

“My God, you’re such a
softy.”

With a grin, he swatted air
at her. “Let me see your new ball gown.”

She shook her head. “You
won’t like it.”

“Why won’t I?”

“It’s cut very low in the
front and leaves my back bare.”

“I like your front and your
back.”

“Will you like the idea of
everyone seeing my front and back while you’re far
away?”

He walked to the window and
walked back. “You’re still a beautiful woman, Marina and I know
full well that being admired has always been important to you.
Enjoy yourself while I’m gone. All I ask is that you remember that
being respected is important to me.”

“I’m not sure how to take
that.”

“It was meant to give you as
much freedom as I could manage. If I said it wrong, I’m
sorry.”

“This is the place where I
should pledge you my fidelity and undying devotion, isn’t
it?”

“No. This is the place where
you should shut up and show me your new gown.”

“Gowns,” she said. “I bought
five.”

May 19, 1829

The Brazos River, Coahuila,
Mexican Province of Tejas

Thomas and Jane were riding
ahead of the herd while the vaqueros that they had hired ranged
along both sides and behind the animals.

“Why didn’t you tell me I’d
need to speak Spanish,” Jane groused.

Thomas shook his head. “I
never thought about it.”

“You could have taught me
during the time that we were waiting to come here.”

“Maybe my mother could have,
but not me. I only understand about half of what these men say and
they often stare at me with blank expressions so I’m never sure if
they know what I said.”

“The Indian languages around
here have very few words in common with Montauk. It all sounds like
gibberish.”

“You’ll learn.”

“I hope so.”

Thomas pointed. “I think
I’ll set up the instruments on that ridge and take a few readings
to verify this bend in the river. Stay with the herd and I’ll catch
you before you’re out of sight.”

“Let me go with
you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like the way some
of these men look at me.”

Thomas turned in his saddle.
“I wish you’d mentioned that earlier.”

“I thought I was being silly
but… I don’t want to be left alone with them.”

“You said some, not
all.”

“Yes. Three in
particular.”

“Which ones?”

“I don’t know their
names.”

“Describe them.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to
confront them.”

“No, Thomas.”

“Yes, Jane. I know what I’m
doing. I led men like these for four years all over the wilds of
Illinois. You just have to show them who’s the boss.”

“I won’t tell
you.”

“Why?”

“They’ll kill
you.”

“No they won’t.”