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DESERT BOY (From Dull Knife's Story, Part 7)

 

DESERT BOY

 (From Dull Knife's Story)

He kicked at the corpse at his feet, flies shooed from its bloated face, but returned once again settling on its swollen tongue which extended from its bruised lips. All were like this, laying here or there, none showing signs of pain, only the drunken sleep that took them when their jugs of whiskey were emptied. None survived. 

 Desert boy knew that he should have left the valley, but he felt the draw to return when the sun arose. The sight that met him when he looked down into the valley did not measure with his expectations. No smoking camp fires, no bustle of activity, no horses. Just, this. Dead men, dead fires. Horses tethered, but thirsting. 

 Desert Boy brought the horses to the nearest coral whose fences still stood, and two by two set them to graze on the wild grasses. Now, what of the men? The corpses were stiff and swollen, their once proud muscles now tight and bloating. These were men whose study was the blade and the gun. Twenty five men, he counted, and twenty five swords, sixty knives, and thirty guns of various sizes, all of them flintlock pistols or rifles. Enough powder and lead to hunt for ten years, if that were a man’s inclination. Desert Boy wrapped them neatly in what cloth he could steal from the tents, and buried them in the dry ground under his father’s cabin, tamping the dirt with his feet, covering the hardened ground with a spray of dust and dried leaves. 

 He took down the tents and stored the bundles and blankets, saddles and gear into a hastily built lean-to beside the coral. Sooner than later these may be of some use.  

Desert boy knew of the ways of his people. They did not bury their dead like some of the neighboring tribes, they burned them on a pyre of brush and bush, piled high, each body wrapped tightly with sweet smelling herbs and letters from loved ones while prayer drums beat and family danced around the fire, long circles and songs of their life sung around them. If there were a world beyond,  There were no herbs, and there were no loved ones here for these men. Desert Boy knew, though that leaving the bodies here would mean a much bigger mess, and carrion birds circling could only mean coyotes coming soon, as well. But to dig thirty graves would be more work than he was able to manage on his own. He could leave them to the crows and rats and dogs – that would be a more fitting end to these devils, he thought. 

 Then the idea, borne of his frustration, grew like a fire inside of his belly. He found a hefty machete in the stash of weapons, and began the gruesome task of cutting off the heads at the neck, swinging the heavy blade as hard as he might, taking off the heads one at a time, in two or three strokes. None came cleanly. The smell was excruciating.

 The dirty work done, he tied the severed heads by their long hair to the saddle of one of the horses, securing them tightly, and slapped the horse on the hind-quarters yelling, “HOME!!” The horse galloped away, over the hill, and back towards the East. 

As soon as the horse was away, Desert Boy began piling wood into a pyre, as high as he could manage on his own, and piled the bodies high upon it. He wrapped them in the tents and nearing dusk, he lit the whole of it aflame, and stood back, watching as the flames crept higher and higher against the purple and pink sunset. 

 He watched as the bodies popped and sizzled, the greasy fat exploding here and there, sending the flames out in strange directions when a man caught afire. In a couple of hours, nothing was left save the red coals, and these consumed the bones, leaving nothing behind of the men. 

 Desert boy looked up into the night sky, the stars glittering brightly, the moon riding high overhead. He took a deep breath, and cried out his prayer to the night sky that the souls of the men might find their way home. None were here to mourn, and perhaps the men left behind family, children, wives and loved ones. Perhaps. They were men, after all, even if they were the enemy. His song echoed on the hills and was lost against the sad wind. No one else heard him, save the coyotes and the sleeping birds roosting in the scrub bush.