Bacho #1

I was almost thirteen when I met an old Apache man named, “Bacho” the Apache word for wolf.  Rumor had it he was too familiar with many of the available women in the tribe and was banished by the elders with some wanting him killed. I first met him as he rode up to the fort and fell off his pony with both of them covered in ticks and cactus needles. He boney legs were scratched and bleeding and it appeared to many of the soldiers who watched him ride in that he cut through the wilderness and avoided the main trail into the fort. His back was crisscrossed with deep red welts, a sure sign the Apache woman strongly disapproved of whatever he had done. Bacho's sudden arrival drew quick suspicion and he was immediately brought to Captain Thompson for questioning. One of the officers directed two soldiers to tend to Bacho's pony who was moved into the fort's corral and given some army oats and fresh water. It didn't take long for my father to take notice of all this as he watched intently from the armies store room with a bottle in one hand and a pistol in the other. He began to protested loudly about the treatment the pony was receiving and grabbed a stick and headed hell bent toward the animal at the same time dropping his gun. Two soldiers quickly subdued my father and relieved him of the stick and retrieved his side arm and threatened to beat him about the head should he take another step. My father cursed the men and uncorked a bottle of whiskey he kept at the ready from his vest pocket and drained the bottle as if it were water.

My father hurled the empty bottle at one of the soldiers feet and uttered, “Indian lover” in a drunken slur and stormed off in the direction of the store room in an unsteady gate. Our outpost was nothing more than an abandoned pueblo in a mesa surrounded by a deep gorge that snaked it's way toward a series of cliffs once occupied by an unknown race of Indians. These people lived in caves carved my nature and made their homes in cliff dwelling hundreds of years ago. On one occasion while my father recovered from whiskey poisoning several of the soldiers brought me along to explore the area. It was early summer and the land below the cliffs was covered in sand sage and dove weed with Mexican sunflowers dotting the horizon with flashes of yellows up against a cloudless blue sky. We had to use ropes just to reach the lowest of cliff's and the soldiers made sure it as safe before they pulled me up. Once I reached the top I was astonished with ancient  drawings on the walls of deer and elk and men with bows and arrows overlooking a view that allowed nothing unnoticed. We discovered broken pottery and animal bones and then the skull of a child. Death was no stranger to all of us in this world we now lived but the men laid the tiny skull carefully back where it was found and we all stood silent as a covey of scaled quail began to call out from a stand of blooming Apache Plums. We left this place the way we found it but I knew someday or somehow I would return.

Captain Thompson assembled the men from the fort while standing next to Bacho and instructed the troop that Bacho would be serving as an interpreter for the post. The old Indian stood quietly with a new army blanket tucked under his arm and slowly walked toward his pony who lifted her head and whinnied as he approached the corral. The men offered Bacho some tobacco which he instantly gave to his pony lifting her head in approval and stomping her right hoof on the ground.  They were part of the outpost now and I got to know them both quite well as time went on. The post had it's share of animals with an occasional stray dog or two looking for a handout. Generally they were shot for fear of madness or the possibility of injuring our horses and stealing our chickens.  Shortly after Bacho arrived an old mogul she dog appeared just outside rifle shot from the post. Clearly she had pups but they were no where to be seen but the dog seemed to be watching us for some reason and over time would inch her way closer to the fort. My father saw her too and warned me to stay away from the dog because he had plans for loafers and beggars.