*********** LAS AVENTURAS DE MACHO CABALLO ************

Disclaimer:  Macho Caballo was inspired by Takahashi
Rumiko's Ranma 1/2.  This is a work of fiction, and no
person, place, or thing mentioned in Macho Caballo is
intended to depict an actual person, place or thing.  As
fiction, the opinions and views expressed by characters are
constructs for the purpose of telling a story, may vary
wildly from the truth, and are not intended to represent
views held by any real person, including this author.  All
other mistakes and errors are mine.  I still don't think
this is a bedtime story for young kids, primarily for the
salty language.  But then, I've been told that I am a
wimp...

What has gone before:
The party (Ramon, Red Cloud, Alboro, Wolfwalker, Sandy, and 
Estrellita) have crossed the mountains and come to a village, 
followed by a curious bear.  Ramon runs the bear off and the 
grateful innkeeper offers them shelter for the night.




                        MACHO CABALLO

                    CHAPTER DIEZ Y NUEVE

                          CATS PAWS



SHELTER:

Full dusk was upon them, an early dark because the clouds
had returned.  Thunder grumbled over the mountains and the
dishes rattled from a small earth tremor as they finished
their meal at the wayside inn.

The innkeeper had gathered his children about him, shaking
from their encounter with the bear.  "Whatever we have is
yours.  I regret we have only one room for your group,"  The
innkeeper apologized, "We are repairing the damage from a
bandit gang who came here for the fiesta last week."

Alboro thanked him for the shelter.  Wolfwalker balked at
the doorway.  "I do not sleep inside like the donkey," he
protested, "But I must protect Red Cloud."

The innkeeper's wife said, "The young maidens shall sleep in
the room of my daughter, Rosita.  They will be safe."

Wolfwalker accepted this.  "Then I shall stay outside," he
said.

"Safe from what?" wondered Estrellita

The Senora pointed at Estrellita and said, "You are bold,
Hacendita, but in this village you will be careful.  There
are bandits around."

"Should I be afraid of bandits?" sniffed Estrellita.

"We keep a strong sheriff and many deputies, and yet
sometimes the soldiers must come and help - because of the
bandits.  These men you will not ignore, Senorita," the
older woman said darkly, "They have no love for the Spanish.
They have lost everything because of them."

"But the revolution is *over*," cried  Estrellita.

"And we won," said the innkeeper's wife, "But as with
everything valuable, there was a cost.  You take everything
from hard men and they will try to take everything back...
from someone... anyone.  Take care to never go out alone,
Senorita.  In this village, with your fine clothes and blond
hair, you could not avoid being seen."

Rosita, the innkeeper's daughter, was younger than
Estrellita and very interested in hearing of the other side
of the mountains.  "I hear there are fine ranchos, there,"
she bubbled, "And there are many handsome caballeros who are
dashing and bold."

Estrellita rolled her eyes.  "You have been listening to too
many canciones," she said.  She was wearing a worn nightgown
borrowed from the innkeeper's wife.  Red Cloud had spread a
blanket on the floor, refusing to share the bed with the
other girls.

"There must be something there," said Rosita, "There is
nothing here.  Everything must come by mule train over the
mountains, and the bandits take all the good stuff.  We must
buy everything twice, once from the merchants and once from
the bandits."

"Are any of the banditos... handsome?"

"Pooey!  They are all old, and ugly.  I don't want to talk
about them!"

"I just thought... never mind.  Have you no market, no
fiestas?  How do you meet people?"

"We have a market... it is dull!" Rosita propped her chin up
on her elbow, glumly, "The old men and women sit around and
talk about dull things.  There is never any excitement.
Except when the hunters capture animals and bring them in
for sport.  They caught a bear last year and put him in the
pen with a bull... Aiyee! What a fight!"

"I am sure," yawned Red Cloud.

"And last week they brought in a jaguar.  It is caged down
at the cantina.  The men spit at it and poke it with sticks.
And the children!" she sniffed disdainfully, unaware that
she now had the undivided attention of the Indian girl, "The
children throw stones at it.  I think they put out one of
its eyes, and it is now very ferocious.  I would not go near
it if I had to!"

Estrellita awoke early the next morning, disturbed by the
strangeness of the room.  She listened to Rosita snoring
softly beneath two wool blankets, then slipped out of bed.
Red Cloud was not to be seen, nor was the Azuma girl's
blanket on the floor where she had slept.  Estrellita
hurriedly donned her riding skirt and blouse and sneaked out
the door.



OUTFITTING:

Luiz invited them to breakfast the next morning, as the sun
rose in a powder blue sky.  The air was clear and crisp,
cleansed by the rains the day before.  Ramon had determined
to make an early start before the cool had evaporated into
the midday heat and he suggested that they leave as soon as
they finished eating.

"So you plan to try to go north, through the Chollo
badlands, heh?"  The innkeeper shoveled another spoonful of
sausage into his mush and took a large bite.

"That is the direction we wish to go, yes," said Alboro.  He
sat at the head of the table, its glistening veneer chipped
and worn by many years of use but nevertheless polished to a
high gloss.

"Then you will wish to make your peace before you depart,"
the innkeeper said, "If you do not lose your mind to the
wind and the sand, the Apache will take your body."

"As a matter of fact, that is..."  Ramon began, but was
interrupted by the eldest Caballo.

"Ahem... We are fearful of the Indians in the badlands,"
said Alboro, "We would appreciate any information you might
give to help us make it through alive."

"Well, yes," the innkeeper warmed to the task, "I happen to
know a few tricks to staying alive in that place.  First,
you must be careful of the vegetation.  Everything in the
badlands will either stick you, cut you, or poison you.
Take the jumping cholla, for instance."

"The plants move?"  Ramon butted in, gaining thereby a
discouraging frown from both older men.  Sandy kept quiet,
and Wolfwalker, true to his word, was dining on a corncake
outside.

The innkeeper chuckled.  "Of course the trees do not move.
But you would swear they did, when you find burrs and thorns
sticking you, when you have not gone close to the Chollo.
Give them plenty of distance, for the thorns have barbs that
hold. Some have to be torn out, and they take skin and flesh
with them when they are withdrawn."

"Ouch," said Sandy, drawing his shoulders together.

"You are hurt?" the innkeeper looked at him with concern.

"No, I was thinking what it would feel like to pull out a
thorn," admitted Sandy.

"Do not worry, Senor Yanquis.  You will know soon enough, if
you truly want to go where they must go."  The innkeeper
paused pensively, then added, "Of course, there are also the
snakes, and the tarantulas, and the scorpions.  And you must
beware of the javalina.  That is a wild pig, small but
fierce.  They travel in packs and will attack anything."

"How long will this trip across the badlands take?" asked
Alboro.

Ramon edged closer to him and said, "You act as if you
already know the answer."

"Of course," smiled Alboro, "But I must ask, for your sake."

The innkeeper with a flair drew himself to his full height.
"It will depend upon your strength, your skill, and your
bravery," he said, "Ordinarily, a good field tracker can
make it across the wastes in less than a week.  Your poor
children here will require at least two."

"I am not a..."  Ramon began but Alboro, reaching for a
tortilla, turned awkwardly, bumped into him and elbowed him
in the belly.  While Ramon choked and gasped for breath,
Alboro said placidly, "I suppose you might know what
supplies this foolish party would need to make the trip?"

"I will make the arrangements," the innkeeper said, and
hurried off.

"What'd you do that for?" demanded Ramon when he could gasp
out the words.

"You were about to interfere with a business transaction,"
said Alboro, "Before we leave for the open spaces, we must
have the right equipment."

"We already have supplies, and we can live off the desert if
we need to," Ramon argued.

"How far could we get if we had to fight our way across the
badlands?"

"Uhh... Fight?"

"We cannot fly.  I am thinking we may have to stay away from
some bad people."




BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST:

"Good morning, Senorita!"

Estrellita smiled down at the man greeting her.  He was tall
and well groomed, dressed in a handsome blue suit with white
piping and lace at the neck and wrists.

"It is a fine morning," she replied.

"It is indeed.  I was just admiring the beautiful horse you
are riding.  It makes a fitting mount for a beautiful young
lady."  The man reached to gently stroke the mare's nose.
He kept his hand on the reins as he continued, "In fact, we
have this last evening received a message about such a
horse, and such a rider as yourself."

"Who are you?" asked Estrellita.  She pulled on the reins,
but he would not release them.

"I am the sheriff of this district," he smiled, "Allow me to
introduce myself.  My name is Juan Ballistrado.  And you are
Senorita Estrella de Muerte."

                       --------------

"Papa! Papa!" cried Luiz as he slammed open the hostel door.

"Luiz, you should go through the door quietly," said the
innkeeper, "How many times must I tell you?"

"But Papa!" cried the boy, "The sheriff!  He has taken our
guest, the Senorita Estrellita!  He says Senor Caballo and
the Yanqui have kidnapped her, and now he is going to arrest
them too!"

"Oh boy," groaned Ramon.

The door was already open, so they did not hear the two
deputies when they walked in.  "Come along with us, and
there will be no trouble," they said.

                       --------------

There were two cells in the jailhouse.  Estrellita was
sitting in one, with the cell door open.  "Ramon! Sandy!"
she cried, "You have to get me out of here!"

"These two are going nowhere," snarled the tallest of the
deputies.  He yanked Ramon around and shoved him into the
unused cell.  Sandy pulled away from the other deputy.  "I
ain't goin' in no hoosegow!" he cried.  The deputy pulled
his pistol and applied it roughly to the side of Sandy's
head.  The cowboy was pulled limply into the cell.

The jailer objected.  "The sheriff will not have these two
ruffians in the same building  with such a refined lady," he
said, "Lock them in the magazine."  The boys were dragged
out of the cell and into the street.

After the bright sun, the inside of the shed was as black as
a tomb.  Ramon stumbled against something which felt like a
wool blanket wadded on the floor, and sat down
disconsolately.

"You will like your accommodations," said the deputy, "This
is where the army used to store the gunpowder during the
last Indian uprising.  It is very safe."

"At least, it has not blown up, yet!" laughed his assistant
as he locked the door.



MISAPPREHENSIONS:

"Oww! Quit that!  Your tongue is rough!"

Sandy awakened to Ramon's voice and gently felt the bruises
on his head.  Dim light filtered through the rough planks in
the side of a shed.  "Is the rest of my skull around here,
someplace?" he wondered, "And what is that smell?"

"Bad breath," said Ramon, "Listen, I don't want you to be
alarmed, but your head is resting on ..."

Sandy's pillow breathed and coughed.

The low, gutteral sound brought the young cowboy alert with
a start.  In the dim light, one tawny eye and one bloodshot
eye gazed into his blue eyes and a tongue with a surface
like a wood rasp dragged across his cheek.

"I think..." he started to say, "I know... I'm gonna faint!"


"It's okay," said Ramon, "She's usually in control, except
when she first changes.  But I didn't know her breath
smelled so bad."

"It's gonna eat me," predicted Sandy.

"No, she won't.  I might as well tell you.  This is Red
Cloud."

"She... she..."

"She has a curse, just like me," Ramon pushed a large paw
away from his arm and added, "I wish we had some water
here."

Sandy backed away, as far as the small shed would allow him.
The door was latched from the outside and creaked in protest
as he pushed it.

"Somehow, I think yours might be easier to live with,"
shivered Sandy.

"It's no big deal.  She knows what she is doing." Ramon
pushed the paw away from him again, "She is just a little
playful, right now."

There was the sound of wood sliding over wood as the latch
moved.  The door swung open on leather hinges.

"Get outside," said a voice, "But move very slowly."

Ramon twisted about abruptly to see the shadow in the
doorway, as the jaguar dropped a heavy paw upon his
shoulder.  He felt the blood drain from his face.  He gently
lifted the paw and set it on the bench.  The big cat was
tasting the fabric of his blouse as he prepared to run for
his life.

"Sure, Red Cloud," said Sandy, "But you know, Ramon was just
telling me the darndest thing..."

Red Cloud held the plank door.  "I ought to leave you in
there," she said, in mock severity, "You thought that was
me.  This is the cat the villagers had locked in the cage. I
set it free, but it was too weak to go very far.  I went to
get medicine for her eye."  Her stern expression melted
quickly, however, as she beheld Ramon's plight.  The jaguar
was rubbing her head against his chest.  He did not dare to
breathe as he looked down at it.

"Here," she said as she stepped between Ramon and the cat,
"Perhaps you should get out now."  She stroked the short
stiff fur on the jaguar's head and ears, and the big cat
purred a deep thunder.

Ramon got out.

"I guess she does have a way with cats," admitted Sandy,
from outside.

"I think... I know... I'm gonna faint, now," gasped Ramon.




CLEANING UP HIS IMAGE:

"Buenas Dias!" bubbled Rosita, "You are the Indian, are you
not?"

"I am Wolfwalker.  My people are the Azuma."

Rosita smiled, then lowered her gaze shyly.  "Why are you
standing in the middle of the garden?" she asked.

Wolfwalker nudged the dry stalks with a toe.  "I am
searching for water," he replied.  The ground trembled as he
stood and he frowned at the disturbance.

"There is no water in the garden," she looked up at him for
a moment, then away again, thinking, [He is so tall!]

"I can feel water," said the Azuma lad, "when there is water
to be found.  This land is very dry."

"We must draw our water from a well," she said, "What do you
need - a drink?  a bath?"

Wolfwalker frowned, "Just water," he said.

"There is water, there in the horse's trough," she pointed
at a wooden box against the stable, "I am drawing water
right now, so it will be fresh."

His upper lip curled, but he said, "It will have to do."
She followed him to the watering trough and watched as he
removed his shirt.  "What a terrible scar!" she exclaimed as
she saw his back, "Did you get it in a fight?"

"It is a war wound," Wolfwalker replied flatly, "I took the
blow meant for another.  It is a small thing."  He did not
add that he had gotten the scar saving the life of an
Apache.  Such information would not earn him any honor in
this land.

"Aiiyyyee!" breathed Rosita, stepping up timidly and
touching the scar.

Wolfwalker waited patiently.  "I wish to wash myself," he
said.

"Oh?" Rosita came around to his front, dabbled her hand in
the water.  It was pleasantly warm.  Her heart was beating
insanely fast, for some reason.  He was so tall!

"Alone," he added.

"Oh," Her tentative smile began to sag.  "Always they tell
me, 'go away, little girl. you are too small'!" she
complained,  "Take your bath alone, then!" she spun about,
slapping the water with the flat of her hand as she started
off.

Wolfwalker was bent over the water trough, preparing to wet
his hands, when the spray hit him.  He continued to bend,
falling... falling... the water closed over him and he
struggled to get a paw up over the wet plank of the side.
[What has happened?] he thought in panic, [The water was
fresh from the well... but it was warm!]

"But don't think that I too young to..."  Rosita looked
about in confusion.  The tall Indian was nowhere to be seen.
She heard and saw something struggling in the water trough
and squealed.

"Oh, poor baby!  How did you get in there?  You are all
wet!"




THE THINGS WE DO FOR MONEY:

They found Alboro and the innkeeper still sitting at the
breakfast table.

"You were a lot of help!" cried Ramon, "We were thrown in
jail and all you do is sit here?"

"I was negotiating supplies," sniffed Alboro, "Besides, I
had a feeling you would be back soon.  Where is the
rancherita?"

"Still in jail," grumped Ramon.

"Then we must get her out," said the old man.

"How?"

"One thing at a time.  I need to conclude my business.
Where does your sweetheart keep her money?"

"She's not my... well, I guess she thinks she is," Ramon
said, soberly, "Is it right to take her money?"

"We must have everything in readiness to depart as soon as
you break her out," said Alboro.

"Wait a minute!  Who said we were going to break her out?
And why do we need the money before we try?"

"Senor Caballo," said the innkeeper, "I am only a poor
person.  I can get your horses and supplies, but to do that
I must use your money.  My sources here in Aguas Callientes
do not extend credit."

Luiz arrived, slamming the door, panting from a hard run.
"The sheriff said the two of you had escaped," he puffed,
"Now he has told the deputies to kill you on sight!  You
must be muy desperado to have made him so angry!"

"Oh, boy," groaned Ramon.  He looked up to see Alboro gazing
at him appraisingly. "What!?" he asked.

"They will be searching for a boy," said the old man.

"Not again!" Ramon flared, "I won't do it!"

"<Que es>?" asked the innkeeper.

"You don't want to know," said Sandy.

Later, in the small hostel room, Alboro pulled a garment
from a pack.  "Your mother sent this," he said.

Ramon glowered as he caught the cotton skirt, "I can't
believe this.  You are helping her, too!  You are all
against me!"

"Not all," Alboro's eyes twinkled as he handed over the more
intimate garments and placed a pitcher of warm water within
reach.  He left the room and stood outside the door to
insure privacy.

"What good is this going to do, anyway?" asked Machita as
she pulled on the clothes. "They will ignore a female."

Alboro examined her after she had finished, exhaled a small
sigh, and said, "Muchacho, that is the best reason in the
world.  If you can get close enough to the jail to talk to
the rancherita, you can get her to cooperate.  We need her
money."

"She doesn't carry money," said Machita, "She lets others
carry the money for her."

"She has money," said Alboro, "But it is not in her
saddlebags which she left in her room, it is not in her
pack, and it is not in her travel bag.  She must have it on
her person."

"Is it safe?" Sandy stuck his head in the door from the
patio.

"You must disguise yourself," said Alboro to Sandy, "Perhaps
we can borrow some clothing from the innkeeper.  Then you
must find Red Cloud."

"She was tending the jaguar," said Sandy.

"We are getting too scattered," complained the old man, "We
will never get anywhere like this.  Where is Wolfwalker?"

Sandy and Machita exchanged glances.  "*I* don't know," they
chorused.

The innkeeper's wife appeared, calling out into the yard,
"Rosita!  Come in and help with the housework!  What are you
doing out there?"

"Yes, Mama," sulked Rosita.

"And put down that dog!  You are too old to be playing with
puppies!"  The older woman gasped, then cried, "That is a
baby wolf!  Where did you get it?"

"I found it at the stables," said Rosita, "It is so sweet!
Can I not keep it?  It is very tame!"

Alboro hurried out into the yard, took one glance at the
streak across the wolf cub's back, and faced up at the sun.
"Sunboy," he cried, "We have got to talk.  Why am I being
saddled with a menagerie?"

Rosita set the small animal down.  The wolf cub sat as
though frozen as he watched the others gather around.

"Great!" growled Machita, "First bears, now wolves.  What
next?"




CHAPTER DIEZ Y NUEVE:   END

<Muchas gracias> to Lyn Daniel for her sketches,
suggestions, and encouragement, to my prereaders Yvonne
Yarbro, Harry Free, and close kin, as well as to Andre
Guerrero for his excellent advice (which I did not always
heed, but always appreciated).

James and the Bluejay
   jeeades@ix.netcom.com
Macho Caballo page at:
   http://www2.netcom.com/~jeeades/macho.htm
   http://www.concentric.net/~Halogen/macho/macho.htm
         (the one with sketches by Lyn Daniel)