Authors: Nancy M. Armstrong
The first day seemed very long to Kee. Though he and Gray Dog were kept busy herding Eagle Feather's sheep, he kept wondering how long the journey would take. Would it be too far for Wise One and Hasba to walk? What kind of place was it that they were going to? Would there be shelter there and enough to eat?
Finally, after a day that seemed like forever, they reached their first campsite. The wagons were drawn into a large circle. Navajos were herded inside the circle. Kee angrily eyed the soldiers who kept watch outside the circle, seeing that no one escaped.
The Diné shared what little wood they could find within their area and built fires to cook the rations handed out by the soldiers.
The next morning when Kee, Hasba, and Gray Dog went to help Eagle Feather get his sheep on the move they found him kicking and shouting at a ewe that refused
to get up. As soon as Eagle Feather saw Kee he shouted, “Tell your dog to nip this sheep and get it started.”
Running to the sheep, Hasba saw a tiny, newborn lamb nestled beside the ewe. She turned in anger to Eagle Feather. “Of course she will not leave her lamb.”
“She will have to leave it,” Eagle Feather replied. “The lamb is too little and puny to walk. It will not live anyway. She must come without it.”
Hasba's eyes flashed. “It will live. I will carry it, then it's mother will come along.”
Eagle Feather laughed. “All right, I give the lamb to you. Carry it if you like.”
“Oh, sister,” Kee said, “We have a long way to go. You get tired without carrying anything. Besides it is so puny it cannot live.”
Hasba did not bother to answer. She already had the tiny lamb in her arms. The ewe quickly stood up. After nuzzling her baby she walked contentedly at Hasba's side.
By this time Gentle Woman and Wise One had come to see what was keeping the children. “Look Mother, look Grandmother, this lamb is mine. Eagle Feather gave it to me.”
Wise One clicked her tongue. “The lamb is very weak but we will save it for you if we can.”
“I will carry it all the way,” Hasba said.
Gentle Woman shook her head. “My child, the lamb will be half grown by the time we get there, I think.”
“It will not be good for you or the lamb to carry it,” Wise One said, “Come with me.” Walking over to Small Burro she rearranged the bundles on his back so there was a small empty hollow space in the center. When she put the lamb there, it cuddled down happily. “Now the lamb is as safe as in a cradle board,” she said.
Small Burro snorted as he looked at the ewe walking beside him.
On the third day of the walk, Wise One stood for some time looking over the landscape in all directions. She smiled. “We are not far from Bear Spring. I remember this country from when I was a child.” Patting Small Burro on the flank she said, “You will find much good food here, my beauty.”
The next day they reached the valley of Bear Spring. Wise One was surprised to find that the United States now had a cavalry outpost nearby, called Fort Wingate.
Word was passed along that there would be a stopover here to grease the wagons, repair harnesses, and replenish rations. The Navajos were allowed to spread out in the direction of the spring. Kee was happy to see that there were many pine, juniper, and oak trees here. As he gazed around, the faint red color in the surrounding mesas made him almost feel at home. While Gentle Woman made a neat camp, he gathered a stack of the abundant wood for their fires.
The days of rest came to an end all too soon, and the bugle blew once more. Kee had hoped they would stay at Bear Spring. His father could easily catch up with them there.
Hasba's lamb had gained enough strength to walk a short distance beside its mother. As soon as the lamb
showed signs of tiring, she asked her grandmother to put it on Small Burro's back.
The long caravan traveled slowly eastward, progressing about fifteen miles each day. When camp was made within sight of snow-capped Mount Taylor, Wise One became very upset. Looking at the mountain's long slope she said, “That mountain is the southern sacred mountain. The sacred mountains were placed by the Holy People as boundaries for the Diné. Surely we will not be forced to live beyond them!”
Kee watched as Gentle Woman took Wise One into her arms and tried to comfort her, saying, “Little Mother, this is a dark night for the Diné. But morning will come and we will return to our homes. I know the spirits are not pleased when we travel farther. But it is not our fault; we are being forced to disobey them.”
“The Navajo spirits have abandoned us, I think,” Kee said.
Gentle Woman turned toward him. “My son, such a feeling can bring only unhappiness. We must keep songs of beauty and bravery in our hearts. Even though the time seems so very long, we must believe our misery will come to an end.”
Kee knew misery for him would never end until he learned what had happened to his father.
As the Navajos and soldiers continued toward the Rio Grande the country became flat and drab. Walking should have become easier, but many had sore feet from the chafing of torn and worn-out moccasins. Kee and Hasba put what was left of their moccasins into a buckskin bag on Small Burro's back and walked barefooted.
On a warm spring afternoon, the people saw cotton-wood trees lining the west bank of a large river. They shouted to each other with joy, and pushed forward to reach the shore of the Rio Grande. Spring runoff had begun and the river was wide and deep. Kee stopped high on the bank and stared in amazement. Gray Dog dashed past him and ran into the water, wading out belly deep to cool himself and lap water to quench his thirst. Kee and Hasba both dropped the things they were carrying and dashed forward. How good the cool water felt as they waded in the shallow edge of the river with the other children. Women came to the shore and Kee saw their smiles as they filled their cooking pots and water jars.
Although sun-bearer was a long way from completing his journey across the sky, orders came for heads of families to come to the supply wagons for rations and to make camp for the night.
Kee stood in their camp and looked across the river. “I never knew there was a river so big,” he told Hasba. “It must be very deep. We could never cross it. I hope we follow it so we will be near the shore all the rest of the way.”
Gray Dog nuzzled Kee into wakefulness before bugle call the next morning. It was barely light enough to see. A cold wind had arrived with the dawn. Already there was a great commotion among the animals and people. Oxen were being harnessed to wagons and lined up along the bank facing the river. Word was sent around that old people and small children would ride across in the wagons. Many of the wagons were nearly empty; supplies were low and would be replenished at Albuquerque.
Panic spread through the camp. Navajos did not know how to swim. Being at the mercy of soldiers with guns and whips, the people had no choice but to get across somehow.
Kee felt sick with fear. His mother said to him, “You are the man of our family. Take your grandmother to one of the wagons and find her a place to ride across while I pack our belongings.”
“No, no,” said Wise One, “I will go across on Small Burro's back. He will not go into the water without me to urge him. I must see he gets across.”
“Kee or I could perhaps get him across,” Gentle Woman replied.
Hasba began to cry. “How will I get my lamb across? She will drown and so will I.”
“You had better worry about the children and our things. Let me take care of Small Burro,” Wise One said. “He will only be able to carry me across.”
“You are right, Little Mother,” Gentle Woman said as she knelt to roll the cooking pot and water jar inside their sheepskins.
Kee helped her tie them into a tight bundle, and together they carried the bundle. Hasba carried her lamb. Wise One led Small Burro. Gray Dog followed closely.
They joined the crowd of Navajos walking toward the river. Grown-ups were talking loudly about the injustice of making the Diné cross a wide river when they did not know how to swim. Frightened children cried, babies screamed, sheep bleated, horses snorted and neighed, and soldiers cracked whips and shouted angrily.
A few wagons had already reached the other side. More were starting into the river. A sweaty soldier, who was whipping a team of oxen to force them into the water, stopped long enough to grab Hasba and her lamb. He tossed them into the back of the wagon on top of other screaming children. Then he forced some young boys standing nearby to hang on to the tailboard of the wagon.
Hasba screamed for her mother. Gentle Woman could do nothing to quiet her fears. The oxen were already dragging the wagon into shallow water. When it hit deeper water, the oxen had to swim and the wagon twisted and turned in the current. At times, the boys hanging on to the tailboard were completely under water. Watching, Kee felt sure he would die of fright if that happened to him.
Eagle Feather came running through the crowd. “Bring Gray Dog and help me start my sheep across. They are afraid of the soldiers and their whips.”