This is a semi-finished copy of chapter 24.  
There will probably be some changes (hopefully not very many),
but I thought this was ready for some exposure.  
Comments welcome.  Informed comments on Apache lore enjoyed.


James and the Bluejay
jeeades@ix.netcom.com
http://www2.netcom.com/~jeeades/macho.htm


WHGB: Ramon, Red Cloud, and Wolfwalker have been captured by Apache.
Rescued by their friend Bluenose, a shaman/warrior, they are being 
treated like guests instead of prisoners.



                        MACHO CABALLO

                 PART2: CHAPTER VIENTIQUATRO

            WHEN WE MEET AGAIN FOR THE FIRST TIME




SPIRITUAL CLEANSING:

"It is in the evening that we prepare ourselves for the
coming ceremony," said Bluenose, "It is good for you to
undergo the sweat bath with these spiritual leaders of the
groups."  He led the way beyond the tramped ground of the
compound, to a hut almost hidden by willows.  Ramon recalled
that the willows usually grew nearby a stream.

"What kind of sweat bath are you talking about?"  Ramon
wondered.  He had heard of sweatbaths before, but they
usually involved hot water... which he wanted to avoid.

"It is where we sit in a house where this old man who runs
the sweatlodge puts in very hot rocks.  Then we sweat out
the ills of our bodies, we burn the boughs of the juniper
and the pinon - sacred plants - and chant the songs which
will clear our heads for the ceremony, the dancing, and the
singing.  You will like to see this ceremony with the masked
dancers.  Sometimes it is very amusing."

"Hot rocks?" said Ramon with a dubious glance, "That seems 
safe enough.  But it sounds an awful lot like something
my abuelo would have me doing on a mountain top."  

There were a half dozen old men standing around the hut, 
while another old man was stoking a fire nearby.

Ramon began to feel uneasy when he saw the others strip to
their loincloths before entering the wickiup.  They sat
about the perimeter of the hut.  In the center was a pit
containing stones radiating heat, with more fireheated
stones being brought in on forked oak boughs.  The odor of
the scorched oak permeated the air.  It felt hotter than the
middle of the desert.

At first he could not locate the source of his concern.  A
couple of the old men were conversing jovially in their own
tongue, occasionally using their hands to illustrate an
expression.  Another prayed softly, nodding his head as he
sang his paean.  The heat parched Ramon's skin and
perspiration started rolling out.  His nose began to feel
painfully tender.

"I have told them you wish to sit by the doorway," said
Bluenose, and there was again a hint of a conspiratorial
twinkle in his eyes, "I explained that you are not
accustomed to the sweat bath."

He introduced Ramon to the four old men in the hut.  Each
nodded a greeting, except for one who peered about
curiously.  One made a comment to Bluenose and snorted
derisively at the response.  Somewhere there was a rhythmic
tempo being struck - it was not a drum, perhaps someone
grinding corn.

"It will be uncomfortable for awhile," said Bluenose, "When
we want to cool off we usually run outside to the stream and
splash each other.  This feels very good after all this
heat.  However, since it has been so dry..."

"Ohmygosh!" Ramon said as he bolted to his feet.  Another 
man was bringing in a container, and it was full of water.  
Ramon's mind raced to an inevitable conclusion:  Hot stones 
plus cold water equalled --

The cloud of steam hit him in the face as he stood, and he
felt the now familiar sensations which told him that he was
not going to fit into the present social situation,
primarily because his loin cloth was hanging differently.
Bluenose grasped Machita's elbow and motioned her to sit
down again, but she was having none of that.

"You knew about this when you asked me here!" accused
Machita, "You wanted this to happen to me!"

Bluenose lowered his chin to his chest and grinned.

"I'm outta here!" cried Machita and she pushed her way out
between the astonished Apache medicine men.  They seemed
transfixed by her attire - which consisted of a loincloth
and nothing else.  The old man who ran the sweatlodge
sputtered in anger and demanded to know who had slipped a
woman into his sweatlodge.

"The cold water is back here!" called Bluenose.

"No thanks!  I want to be alone!"  It was bad enough to be
exposed to their captors as a female, she was not going to
give them the satisfaction of seeing her change back to a
boy.  She did not want to endure the pitying looks they
would give him when they knew the truth.

It was an act of desperation.  She would dash across the
open area and dive into the water of the stream, hoping that
no one would notice the transformation.  As plans go, it was
as good as one could hope to come up with on the spur of the
moment.  The man tending the fire had gone inside, nobody
was hanging around outside, the area was quiet, and the
stream was fairly secluded.

Unfortunately, the streambed was also dry gravel.  Looking
back over the sandy bank, she could see the tub of water
sitting outside the wickiup where the bathers could splash
and cool off.  The flap of the doorway was lifting as the
old men came streaming out to stare at her.  She ran, the
turquoise pendant bouncing about her throat.




CHANCE MEETINGS:

"It's not as if I was asking for the Moon.  Just a little
water!  Really, what do they expect me to do?" complained
Machita, "Man, nobody deserves this!  It's like my worst
nightmare - running naked through an Indian village, only
I'm a girl!"

She huddled beside a wickiup on the outskirts of the
rancheria, unseen by the few women and children walking
about.

"That meddling Bluenose..." she fumed as she cowered, " He
KNEW there was going to be hot steam in that hut!  He knew
that hot water activated the curse.  Caramba!  I had been so
careful, too!

"Well, at least he talked them into letting me keep the
loincloth... a lot of good that does when I have these..."
she crossed her arms before her, but it didn't make her feel
any less naked.

"Maybe I can make it back to that hut where they stashed our
packs..." she pulled back further when she saw movement
beyond the barricade.  "Madre Mia - there's some guys
heading this way..." she said as her worst fears were
realized, "Oh, great!  That clown Buffalo Wattle is with
them!  No way I'm lettin' HIM see me like this!"

She had to get out of sight.  Maybe the hut she was hiding
behind was not occupied.  If she could steal a robe or
something and cover up with it, Machita reasoned, she would
be all right.  She threw the flap aside and crossed her arms
over her breasts before she bolted into the cool darkened
interior of the wickiup.  She looked quickly about to see if
there were any men inside.  There were none.  There was,
however, one woman.

The woman was barely older than Machita but seemed slumped
under some invisible burden.  Unlike the other Apache women 
who wore their hair to their waist, she wore her hair only 
to the shoulder, with a bow holding some of it behind her neck.  
Taken by surprise by the intrusion, she stumbled to her feet, 
holding her knife ready.

"What are you doing in here?" cried the woman, "Who are
you?"  She got a good look at her unannounced visitor and
goggled.  Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed a
blanket and tossed it over Machita.

"You have to be a member of some other tribe who came to the
gathering," said the woman, "No morals.  No *dignity*!
Running about naked to tease the boys!  What kind of a tramp
are you?"

"I... I..." Machita stammered as she clutched the blanket to 
her, feeling more exposed than ever.  She was trying to come 
up with a lucid explanation when something caught her eye.  She
sputtered, "That is... I was gonna..."

"Now I understand!  You are Mexican!  You must have come in
with that group of... of... of bandits who've been trying to
trick our medicine men!  I saw your people today when our
men dragged you into the camp... we should have thrown you
out then!"

Machita gulped and held back her protests.  She was looking
beyond the woman, at a glittering ornament swinging from a
mount on a wickiup post.  It was a pendant with a sky-blue
stone and exquisite silver filigree.

"Lucha?" Machita asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes?  What of it?"

"We have been looking for you.  I think... I think you are
my sister!"

The woman slowed her tirade long enough to stare at the girl
in the blanket.  Her eyes widened and her eyebrows scaled up
her forehead.  She remembered the speech she had long ago
promised to give to her family when they finally came to
find her. She thought about how she had planned to tell them
of her gratitude, her longing, and how she would go with
them wherever they might take her.

She thought about these things.  Then she mentally tore the
resolutions to shreds, burned them, and threw the ashes to
the winds.

"Out!" she cried, "Out!  Get out of my home!  I don't want a
tramp for a sister!"

At the entranceway there was the sound of the flap being
drawn away, and a face appeared.  Buffalo Wattle smiled
sternly.  "My pony will be needing water, soon," he said,
"It is not seemly to starve the pony of a chief's son."

"You too!  Out!" cried Lucha, waving the knife she still
held in her hand, "I have had enough imposition for the
day!"

"That is no way to address your future husband!" the warrior
looked at her through lowered eyelids, then noticed Machita
cowering behind Lucha.  His petulant scowl vanished and was
replaced by a beaming smile.

"Who is your pretty visitor?" he asked.

"She is nobody!  Get out!"

"I will want to talk to her.  She must learn of the
fascinating skills and abilities that are mine," he said. He
gave Machita what he obviously considered to be a friendly
wink as he withdrew.

"HE is your boyfriend?" Machita asked hesitantly.

Lucha looked at the knife she held as if she would consider
using it on herself.  "He is an oaf," she said, "I have told
him to leave me alone, but he insists... and lately I have
been so confused!"

"I hope you aren't THAT confused!"

Lucha dropped the knife flat upon the skin she had been
working.  "He will... not... leave... me... ALONE!"  She
turned at another sound from the entranceway, but there was
no intrusion.  Someone was standing politely outside,
waiting for her to notice.

"Now, who is there?" she wondered.

Machita raised the flap, wrapped the blanket tightly about
her, and went out.




THE WELCOME WAGON:

Yucca found the wickiup housing the new arrivals.  "Where is
the good-looking Mexican boy?  I want to meet him!"

White Dog came uncertainly out of the hut.  He knew better
than to cross Yucca, but he was charged with guarding the
captives who had suddenly become important guests.  "His
name is Ramon," he said, "What do you want with him,
anyway?"

"He is my choice for a slave," said Yucca pompously, "I want
to get him before anyone else does.  My brother would give
him to me anyway, but I want to see him."

"They are not exactly prisoners, any more," White Dog said
nervously, "Bluenose came by and said to turn them loose.  I
have to stay with them to guard them."

"You let him loose?" Yucca had taken a stance that promised
pain to someone, "You let my beautiful Ramon out so ANYONE
could get at him?"

"What is all the yelling about?" asked the girl who had been
with the captives.

Yucca examined her closely, decided that there was more than
one reason that White Dog was hanging around the guest's
wickiup.  "Why aren't you tied up?" demanded Yucca,
imperiously, "You were captured!"

"Bluenose is an old friend.  He ordered our release," Red
Cloud said, repeating White Dog's explanation, and she asked
carefully, "What do you want with Ramon?"

"None of your business!" snapped the young medicine woman.

"Anything to do with Ramon is very much my business," said
Red Cloud stiffly.  She did not exactly growl the words, but
the effect was the same.  The two girls glared at each other
for a long, tense moment, then Yucca turned and stormed
away.





COVERING UP:

Bluenose was waiting outside the doorway, holding Ramon's
clothes out in an offering.  "You will need these," he said,
"The others were very impressed, although Broken Cloud
insisted that he had seen nothing."

Lucha poked her head out.  "You are the medicine man from
the Loose Foot group," she announced, "Is this person known
to you?"

Machita made the introductions.  "This is my sister," she
told Bluenose, "She thinks I am a..."  Machita could not
repeat her older sister's words.

"It is good that you have met this person," said Bluenose to
Lucha, "She is a very important being.  All of the shamans
agree that she must be treated with respect."

"But she was running around with no clothes on!" cried
Lucha.

"All part of a ceremony," smiled Bluenose, again with a
little conspiratorial gleam to his eye, "It was a very
powerful ceremony, very upsetting.  One man went blind. This
person..." he turned to Machita, "May I use your name?"

"Which one?" whispered Machita.

"The secret one.  Do you say this is your sister?"

The Mexican girl agreed, reluctantly.

"Then she must be convinced," Bluenose turned to Lucha and
said, "This is 'She goes Ahead'.  It is given to her to
perform very strong magic.  While she was performing a
ceremony for the assembled medicine men, a powerful wind
came and blew her clothes away from her.  You can ask any of
the medicine men who were there... except Broken Cloud, and
he insists that he did not see anything."

Lucha remained silent throughout this recitation, switching
her attention from the blanket-clad girl to the man who had
to cover his mouth to hide his mirth.

"Come inside," she sighed, "You can put on your dress in
here."

While Machita was changing, Lucha remained at the
entranceway and asked Bluenose, "Uncle, where did you meet
this girl?"

"I was in Mexico when I first saw her power," said the
shaman/warrior, "She has as a companion another girl who has
an even stranger power."

Machita emerged.  Lucha took one look at her and demanded,
"What kind of dress is this?  These are men's clothes!"

"This is all I have!" cried Machita, "My grandfather has the
rest of my clothes, and he disappeared in a storm."

Lucha sighed, "Then I will find someone who can loan you a
decent dress.  You cannot go about like this!  And where is
your nah-leen?"

"Nah-leen?" Machita gulped.

"Your hairbow!  Your virginity lapel!  If you do not wear
it, everyone will think you are a..."

"Don't say it!" cried Machita, "Where can I get one?"

Lucha fingered Machita's short hair and said, "You cannot 
wear one, anyway.  The hair must be pulled up and looped back 
and forth.  This hair is too short.  What kind of a place did
you grow up in, anyway?"

"No one said anything about it back home," said Machita.

"They don't have to face a village of gossips," Lucha
retorted.

Bluenose signaled for attention.  "You could cover your head
with a shawl," he suggested, "Or you could tell them you have 
cut your hair because you are in mourning."

"I'll take a shawl," sighed Machita.

"I will give you one of mine," said Lucha.  She led the way
back inside the wickiup.  Again, Machita was spellbound by
the dangling pendant.

"Do you like it?" Lucha indicated the jewelry.

"It looks pretty," said Machita.

"`Pretty'.  That is something a boy would say," said Lucha,
"Well, you are my sister.  Here.  I will give it to you."

"Thank you," Machita backed away from her, "but I am not
sure I should take it."

"Nonsense.  I have given it away several times and it always
comes back," Lucha lifted down the turquoise pendant and
placed it over Machita's head.  She noticed the string around 
her sister's neck and pulled Estrellita's pendant around in
front.  She said, "You already have one!  The stone has more
bluegreen, but it is very... 'pretty'."

"Then I will give it to you," Machita blurted, handing it to
her, "I want you to have it."

Bluenose inspected the shawl.  "Your sister is correct," he
said, "You will need different clothes if you do not want to
appear improperly dressed."

"I know someone who is your size," said Lucha, and she led
Machita off to Yucca Blossom's wickiup.

Bluenose watched them go, shook his head with a smile, and
returned to the sweat lodge to discuss this phenomenon with
his fellow medicine men.  "She played the part of the boy so
well!" he said to himself, "If I did not know better, even I
would be confused!"




THE ENEMY FROM THE SOUTH:

Yucca Blossom, frustrated because she could not find the boy
called Ramon, was returning from the lodge where the
Mexicans were staying when she met Lucha.  Yucca's friendly
smile suddenly evaporated when she saw Lucha's companion, a
pretty girl with very short hair, wearing a white blouse and
trousers.

[She is Mexican!]  Yucca thought, [Why is she here?]

"Yucca, this is my... my sister," stammered Lucha, and
Yucca's heart sank.  This was trouble.  This girl was with
the Mexicans... Wait.  Where had she been, earlier today
when the Mexicans had been captured?  Something was wrong.
Yes, there was something odd about her.  This suspicion was
blotted out by another realization.  Yucca's thoughts raced
like the antelope, [There were *two* girls with the
Mexicans!  She was with Ramon!  Does she have some claim on
him?  I cannot allow this!]

Yucca controlled her fear with an effort.  "It is good to
meet you," she managed with a strained smile, "Do you know
the boy, Ramon?"

The girl seemed startled, but blurted out, "Yes... That
is... he is a real close friend, but..."

A close friend.  This was bad news.  Somehow, she must get
closer to Ramon than this girl.  Yucca started to make plans
as they dug through baskets in the wickiup for the makings
of a dress.

[I'll have to get to know her better, before I can use the
power on her,] thought Yucca.  She made sure to invite the
girl, Machita, to help with the feast preparations the
following day.



ADMIRERS:

Machita, in a borrowed skirt and mantle, waited outside the 
wickiup.  She held the bundled blouse and pantalones before 
her like a shield.  There were voices inside, and she edged 
behind the wickiup, near the wall, to listen.

"We are going to have a social dance, and a huge bonfire,"
White Dog was saying, "And the shaman, Bluenose, said he 
especially wants the three of you to be there."

"I am waiting for Ramon, but Wolfwalker can go with you,"
Red Cloud's voice floated out through the deerskin walls.

There was a mumbled conversation, difficult to understand,
and Machita moved closer to the doorway to hear what was
being said.  Suddenly, Wolfwalker emerged from the
entranceway and started toward the meeting grounds.  Machita
had only time enough to partially hide her face with the
bundle of clothing as he brushed past.  Then she hurried
inside where she hoped Red Cloud was waiting with cold
water.

White Dog stood back abruptly, a guilty look on his face.
"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I should ask who *you* are!" Machita cried, "And what are 
you doing here with Red Cloud?"

"Do you know her?" White Dog asked Red Cloud.  

Red Cloud nodded with a grin.

"I should leave, shouldn't I?"  he asked, and Red Cloud
nodded again.  He hurried out the entranceway while glancing
back at Machita.

"I am in trouble," said Machita, "I have met my sister."

"That is wonderful!"

"But she thinks I am a girl!  How do I tell her the truth?"

"You will simply have to wait until you can explain it," 
Red Cloud said.  "Who else has seen you?"

"Just about the entire village.  Lucha.  Buffalo Wattle, the
clown who captured us.  Some girl with a Hopi hairdo, I
think she was Buffalo Wattle's sister.  Somebody has to 
have noticed that I was male when we were brought in here!  
I gotta tell Lucha that I am a man!  But how?"

Red Cloud mused, "Perhaps it would be better if Lucha only
saw you as Machita, until she knows you better.  Then you
can pick the time and place."

"Okay," Machita reluctantly agreed, "By the way, who was
that guy who just left?"

"Oh, him?  That was White Dog.  He was just talking."

"Was he bothering you?" Machita demanded.

"He was very polite.  He wanted to tell me how nice he
thought I was, even though I had blacked one of his eyes," 
said Red Cloud.  She lifted a wooden dipper full of cold water
from a suspended basket and added, "And I think he was very
impressed by you, too."

"Oh, boy," groaned Ramon.




STORIES FROM THE DAWN:

Bluenose indicated the circle of friends sitting about the
fire.  He said, "When differing people meet, it is customary
for each to tell their origin story and something about
their gods."

As the stars clustered the dark of the skybowl overhead and
sparks from the burning branches drifted up to meet them,
the leader of one of the visiting groups, Headsplitter, told
of the Apache creation: how Child of the Water had killed or
driven off all the monsters of the dark and how the people,
the N'de, had come to be.

When it came her turn, the guests listened as Red Cloud related 
the story of the Azuma, how once upon a time there was only one 
Azuma maid and no Azuma man.

The Trickster, Coyote, had secured her within a cave in the
ground and would not let her out because he wanted her to
bake cornbread for him.  He loved cornbread.  She would
grind the corn and bake it in a little oven in the side of
the cave, and he would open the door and come in and eat it.
He treated her well, but she could never leave.

So one day she decided to get away. She took some clay and
softened it with water so she could bake some little
figures.  When the figures were ready, she baked them at the
same time she was baking the bread for Coyote.  Then she
called to him that the bread was ready. When he tried to eat
one of the figures, he said, "This bread is too hard," and
he spat on it to soften it up. Because he was magic, the
figure turned into a man and wrestled with Coyote, so the
maiden could escape.

She ran out of the cave with the other men and women who had
been the clay figures, and they trapped Coyote inside.  He
was a long time getting out.  After that, he respected the
people and helped them.  That was the start of the Azuma
tribe.

In the lull of conversation which followed, it became apparent
that they wanted to hear from Ramon.

"I can tell of the Spanish missionaries and what we have
learned from them," said Ramon.

"We have heard that one," said Headsplitter, "Tell us how
you came to be here.  Bluenose says to us you have a
different story."

"Different?" said Ramon, his voice betraying him by rising
to a squeak.

"It would impress them if you were to show your true self,"
suggested Bluenose.

"I'll bet it would!" said Ramon, mournfully.  He wanted to
proclaim himself as Lucha's brother.  His sister had met his
girl half... but was she ready to meet him?  Lucha was in the
audience.  She would be observing from across the fire right
now.  This was his opportunity.  He could proclaim himself as
her brother.  He thought about what she would think when her
sister turned out to be a... a... freak...  and he could not
do it.

"It would be very poor manners to refuse," said Wolfwalker,
"I for one would like to be able to walk away from here."

"You don't know what you are asking!" said Ramon.

"Tell them a story!" growled Wolfwalker, "What is so
difficult about that?"

"I don't think we are going to walk away, that is all," said
Ramon, "There is something you do not know about me."

"Then I will tell of what I know about you, about how you
are a coward and a weakling," sneered the Azuma lad, "You
are as weak as a woman!  They will *really* hate you, then!"

"Blackmailer!" hissed Ramon.

"Weakling!" replied Wolfwalker.

Bluenose interrupted, "I would like to hear of your capture,
how you came and fought so fiercely that our men thought you
were some terrible enemy," he said, "Buffalo Wattle has told
us that you put up quite a fight."

"I would not have surrendered," spoke Wolfwalker, "but he -"
and here he indicated Buffalo Wattle "- would have used his
war ax on my sister.  I am sworn to protect her, I would
give up my life if I had to."

There was a murmur of general approval of the sentiment
around the fire.  Bluenose leaned toward Ramon and asked
softly, "You?"

"Red Cloud," whispered Ramon.

The medicine man/warrior nodded with a thoughtful smile,
"The jaguar lady," he said, "He may have made a mistake,
threatening that one."

Buffalo Wattle came to his feet in a rage.  "Do you say 
I would hide behind a woman to fight you?" he demanded.

"Ask your fellows," Wolfwalker growled, "Ask the ones who
tied me up."

"I don't need anyone to help me defeat you!" cried Buffalo
Wattle.

"Enough!" shouted the speaker, "You can settle this
tomorrow!  Tonight we want to hear more Coyote stories!"

Around the fire, heads turned as the members of the audience
murmured amongst themselves.  A grudge wrestling match was
good entertainment.  Several of the more serious thinkers
were already evaluating the contestants for their abilities,
planning bets.

"Why do you call Red Cloud your sister, all of a sudden?"
asked Ramon of Wolfwalker.

The Azuma lad peered down at him from his tallest stance.
"You do not understand?" he sneered, "You are pathetic!"

In the end, Ramon told a part of the story of the battle of
the Puebla, when Wolfwalker gained his scar by protecting an
Apache.  This only increased Wolfwalker's status and gained
more stony stares from Buffalo Wattle.




MATTERS OF THE HEART:

Beyond the circle of the fires, above the hill of the pines,
through the washes of the high places, he walked.  Soon
enough he came to a fire, and there were people sitting
around the fire.  They had their backs to him.  He
recognized three of them, from earlier dreams - Corn
Planter, Sewing Woman, and Spider.

He sat at the fire and waited.  Eventually, Spider stood and
faced him.  "Do you want to fight?" he asked, and they came
together in a rush.  Once upon a time he had feared Spider,
and had run away from him.  Now he was glad to wrestle the
forbidding multilegged creature, for he knew Spider was a
friend who would help him if was willing to work for what he
wanted.  It was a good fight.  When he had bested Spider, he
came and sat once more at the fire.

"My heart is dull," he said, "A thing has happened today, at
the sweat lodge."

Spider nodded, "We have heard," he said, offering a smoke.
"We must speak of more trouble."

"I am going blind," said Broken Cloud.

"No, you are not," said Corn Planter, "You will not see.
That is worse."

"Do not think of this," ordered Spider, "There is a danger
coming to your village.  You must warn them."  Spider was
always warning him, trying to distract him from his true
goal.

"It is your heart that is making you blind," said Sewing
Woman with a sad smile, "You must take out what is in your
heart and crush it before you can see."

So he walked on, pushing constantly against Spider, who
would not let him past without a struggle.  He won all the
fights, but the effort was beginning to tell.  Finally, he
came to a red clay urn covered by a flat stone which he
lifted aside.

Within the urn he found more stones, each one with a symbol
representing his most precious things.  There was Tom Goose,
which he expected, along with Tom's wife and Broken Cloud's
sister, Ticklish - a stone that was almost faded away.
There were stones for Tom's children, Buffalo Wattle and
Yucca Blossom, and surprisingly, a stone for Deer Finder's
adopted daughter, Lucha.

Which one was blinding him?  He lifted each, weighing them
for some difference.  Each stone seemed to be unique,
beloved and valuable for its own reason.  Which one?  The
sad, knowing smile on Sewing Woman's face haunted him,
telling him that it was the one he could least bear to lose,
the one most dear to him.

At last he selected one.  He knew it was the one, for his
heart wrenched within him when he withdrew it, and a great
sadness flooded over him.  With a cry of pain, he lifted
Yucca's stone above his head and dashed it to the ground,
shattering it.  A glittering, poisonous scorpion scuttled
away from the powdered remains and he could see again.  He
remembered.

With each memory of his sweet almost-daughter's commanding
voice, Broken Cloud felt a stabbing pain and saw the
scorpion that had crawled from the stone as it waved it's 
hooked tail at him.  She had not done terrible things, such as
telling him to hurt someone else, but she had interfered
with his ability to help others, and that he could not bear.

"Why?" he asked of no one, "She is a strong spirited girl,
but she has never been spiteful."

Spider stood before him, barring the trail to the dark of
the beyond-desert. "You must go back now," he commanded, "Or
I must kill you."

"I want to go on," said Broken Cloud, but Spider became
agitated and frantically pushed him... until... he...
...woke up.

It was time to welcome the Sun, feel the chuckle of the
breeze fluttering against his face as he staggered out the
doorway into the wan light.  Broken Cloud stretched, rubbed
aching eyes.  There was an ache in his heart that he knew he
could not easily overcome, and a tension across his back
which he could not explain.  Spider had been afraid of
something.  Despite his weariness, he would have to return
to the dream and find out what else was wrong.  But for now 
the grief was enough to bear.

Yucca Blossom, whom he had loved as dearly as if she had
been his own daughter, was betraying her own spirit by
manipulating others.

He had felt such pride in her achievements - how she had
taken on herself the onerous challenge of the vision quest,
going into the wilderness alone to fast and pray for
guidance in setting her path in life.  She had been so
joyous and peaceful, that day she had returned with the gift
of knowledge of herbs and medicine.  There had been a glow
about her that others could see, not he alone.

>From his own vision quest, many summers before, he had
gained his true sight.  At first it had been only when he
wore the splinter hat, but he had learned to see true shapes
without it.  He had given up nothing when the hat was
destroyed, but the knowledge that Yucca had casually taken
it from its protective basket, given it to her brother, and
then ordered him to ignore the loss because it was
convenient to her, was bitter in his throat.

Equally parching was the realization that his sight had been
hooded by her careless words.

She had become disorderly and inconsiderate, a dangerous
combination in a person with spiritual power.

He reviewed what he would have to say to her, and his heart
hurt as though it were being crushed.




MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM:

"I have to go home!"

The voice, muffled by a serape, was barely audible above the
snores and exhalations in the 'guest' wickiup.

"I have to go back to Mexico!"  More mumblings followed,
then, "Mama needs me!  She wants me to come... hmmm..."  The
dreamer drifted into deeper sleep.

Ramon opened his eyes, startled, seeing at first only the
opulent surroundings of a regal enclosure - elegant screens
worked with brilliant flowers and gold trim, a velvety soft
couch on which he seemed to have been sleeping, and a
brazier across the room where a breakfast meal was cooking.

The room seemed devoid of other people until a figure stood
from behind one of the screens and shuffled over to tend the
breakfast.  It was an impossibly old crone, her face smeared
with makeup so thick it fissured each time she worked her
jaws.  She wore a kilt and mantle of some murky blue.

"Ah hah!" croaked the old woman, "This is a good morning!
The calendar says today will bring good crops and victory
over our enemies!"

"Err... yeah," said Ramon, "Where am I?"

"Yes, a good day!" ignoring his question, the crone ladled
soup and tortillas into a bowl and sat it before him.  "Eat
up!" she commanded, "Today you will carry our prayers to the
gods!  You are so very fortunate!  If only I were in your
place!"

"I'm going to do what!?!?"

"It is almost dawn," continued the crone, "Soon they will
come to lead you to the altar.  Oh, the glory!  You will be
so perfect!  The gods will be pleased, I know they will!"

Then others came in and wrapped him in a garment with
embroidered signs and symbols.  They applied a cosmetic
lotion to his face and coifed his hair, which seemed to be
long and luxuriant.  He was overwhelmed by their numbers and
confused by their commands, until he stood silent and
suddenly deserted at the entrance to the room.

There was a knock, and the fabric at the doorway parted.  A
novice priest entered, bearing a covered golden bowl filled
with holes which emitted the odor of burning incense.  He
was followed by the high priest, a man with his hair and
eyebrows plucked.  Ramon attempted the impossible feat of
pulling back out of his own skin, trying to get his immobile
arms and legs to bear him away from the priest.  Kaliche
smiled and reached to grasp Ramon's hand.

"Ayyyy!"  Ramon cried.  He awoke and threw the serape off 
his face.  He was in the wickiup, silent except for the sounds 
of the other sleepers.  Wolfwalker muttered something about
nightmares as he rolled over and went back to sleep.




CHAPTER VEINTEQUATRO:    END