Go? Go where? Skylar wondered, desperately clutching the letters and papers to her breast. More murmurs went through the crowd as Hawley translated Naka’yen’s words.
Quickening her pace, Skylar forced her way through the growing crowd until she was standing between Sun Hawk and Newsome. “What’s happening?” she asked the agent.
“I’m trying to explain to your chiefs that this agency has been closed.”
“Closed?”
“That’s right,” he said, clearly no more pleased with this than the Apaches were. “All of the Mescalero are being transferred to the Rio Alto agency in Arizona.”
Skylar was appalled. “But that’s absurd! Why?”
“Damned if I know,” Newsome barked. “It’s got something to do with the reorganization of the Indian Bureau. They’re trying to consolidate all the Apaches into one area so that they can be controlled better.”
“You mean the Apaches will no longer have their own land? They’ll be sharing a reservation with other tribes?” she asked, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“That’s right,” Newsome answered. “They’ll be on the Rio Alto with the Tonto, the Lipan, and what’s left of the Chiricahua—those who didn’t take off with Geronimo.”
“Is the Rio Alto a large reservation?”
“No,” Newsome said, growing impatient with her questions. “It’s just a little bigger than this one.”
“But that’s insane,” Skylar said. “This reservation is barely big enough to support the Mescalero. You can’t expect that many people to survive on a tiny reservation.”
Newsome poked a finger sharply at his own chest. “I’m not the one doing this,” he said hotly. “These are the orders, and I’ve got to obey them—just like all of you do.”
Skylar discovered suddenly that all eyes were on her as she conversed in English with Newsome. Sun Hawk’s gaze finally captured hers, and in Apache he asked her bluntly, “What does he say to you? What do you say to him?”
Skylar realized with some embarrassment that she had taken over the conversation and that many would think what she had done was inappropriate.
She couldn’t refuse to answer, though, and she looked up at Sun Hawk hesitantly. “We are to be sent to Arizona. We will live on the Rio Alto reservation.”
113
Constance Bennett—Moonsong
[ e - r e a d s ]
Sun Hawk frowned as more murmurs went through the crowd. “Where is this Rio Alto?”
Skylar had no idea, and she looked at Newsome. “They want to know where Rio Alto is located.”
“It is below San Carlos near the Pinaleno Mountains,” he replied, and Skylar translated to Sun Hawk and the others. There were more angry shouts, and Skylar felt herself being jostled as the Indians pressed forward. Sun Hawk called for silence and looked down at Skylar.
“Ask him who made this decision.”
“It was the Indian Bureau,” she told him.
“Can nothing be done to stop it?”
Skylar looked to the agent. “Is there any way to prevent this? Is there anyone we can talk to?”
He shook his head with disgust. “No. The Apaches are not going to like it, but they’re going to have to live with it. Soldiers from Fort Travis will be here this afternoon, and they’ll move out day after tomorrow.”
“You expect them to be ready to leave in a day?” Skylar asked, aghast.
“That’s right. Make that clear to them. As soon as they’ve collected their rations they should begin making preparations for the move.”
Skylar looked at Sun Hawk and reluctantly told him what Newsome had said.
The crowd erupted into shouts of anger as they surged forward, but when Hawley brought up his rifle, everyone stopped.
“Get back, all of you!” he demanded in his less than perfect Apache.
Newsome drew his own pistol and took a step back. “Hawley, put an end to this at once! Tell them that if they make trouble, there will be no more rations distributed and they will have to make the trip without food!”
Hawley raised his voice again and spoke to the Indians, but what he said did nothing to quell the disturbance. More angry shouts rent the air, and it was easy to see why. Instead of repeating Newsome’s threat in its entirety, Hawley had inadvertently told them that the rations were being cut and there would be no food for the journey.
The angry Apaches surged forward again, and Hawley raised his rifle, panic showing plainly in his eyes.
“Wait!” Skylar shouted, but she couldn’t be heard above the chaos.
Desperate to avert a tragedy, she grabbed Sun Hawk’s arm. “Wait, calm the people! Make them listen. There will be provisions for the journey. The agent said it. I heard him.”
“But that is not what this one said,” Sun Hawk replied, gesturing toward Hawley.
“He spoke wrong. Calm your people and let me tell them what the agent said.”
114
Constance Bennett—Moonsong
[ e - r e a d s ]
Sun Hawk raised his voice, counseled his people to step back, and managed to quiet them enough so that Skylar could be heard. Ignoring the anger and suspicion in their eyes, she translated Newsome’s words accurately, then looked at the agent and switched back to English. “You should be careful, Mr.
Newsome. Your assistant’s poor command of the Apache language is going to get someone killed. He told them you were cutting off their supplies.”
Newsome shot an angry glance at Hawley, then turned to Skylar again.
“Then you speak for me,” he demanded. “Tell them to disperse and go back to the lines to collect their rations.”
She did as he asked, but no one moved. She looked beseechingly at Sun Hawk. “They respect you. Make them go back or there will be trouble.”
Sun Hawk exchanged a troubled glance with his father; then Naka’yen ordered his people to go back to the ration lines. Slowly the crowd began to disperse until only Sun Hawk and the council of elders remained.
Relieved that the crisis had passed, for the moment at least, Skylar stepped back as well, but Sun Hawk stopped her. “No, you must stay. We want our words understood, and we want to hear his clearly so that there will be no mistakes. You will speak for us.”
Klo’sen drew his shoulders back proudly. “I do not want a woman to speak for me! She is not even one of us.”
Sun Hawk turned to him. “She has lived among the white men, uncle.
She knows their ways and ours. We need her. If a woman can stop a tragedy from happening, I will listen to a woman. It does not make me less of a man.”
With Skylar interpreting, Newsome went on to give his instructions: At daybreak the day after tomorrow, all the Mescaleros were to gather at the agency, ready for travel. They would be counted. Anyone who was missing would be considered a renegade and would be shot on sight.
Naka’yen argued, and the others made speeches, which Skylar dutifully translated, but there was nothing Newsome could do.
By the time the soldiers arrived, Skylar and the other Verde woman had returned to camp, but the braves had remained behind to listen to the soldier talk. The story Captain Haggarty told the Mescalero was considerably different from the one Newsome had related. According to Haggarty, the Rio Alto was enormous, water was plentiful, and food was abundant. He made the reservation sound like the most beautiful place on earth, but the Mescaleros had heard too many lies to be fooled.
When Naka’yen said his people would not go, Haggarty replied that if they did not go willingly, they would be taken in chains. He made other threats, too, which were much more severe. In the end, Naka’yen could do nothing but submit to the will of the army.
115
Constance Bennett—Moonsong