Apalachee

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

here as a servant on this ranch, and I raised my own children here.’’ She paused and craned her neck to look into the pot of peaches, stirring it with a wooden spoon. ‘‘But all that is over now. When the Creeks struck at Patale , all the Spaniards around here fled to San Luı́s. I myself went with them. We all went, all the servants, including my daughter and her husband . We did not know then that the Spaniards were finally beaten. But in the blockhouse we could see it. When they came back from the battle at Patale, there was no life left in them. From that time on, they were just waiting for the governor in San Augustı́n to send permission for them to leave. So I said to myself, What am I doing here? The homestead is mine again. And I left the blockhouse and came back.’’ ‘‘But your daughter would not come?’’ said Lucia. ‘‘She could not. The slave-catchers are a danger to her. She is not old and ugly like I am.’’ ‘‘So what will she do, she and her husband? Are they going with the Spaniards?’’ ‘‘The Spaniards wanted them to. They want to take as many Apalachees with them as they can to give themselves protection as they go. They have offered forgiveness to all those who have run away if they will come back now and join them. But my daughter and her husband are finished with Spaniards. They are going west to the French at Mobile. Many from around here are going there. They wanted me to go with them, but I told my sonin -law today that I am too old to start a new life. I will stay here where I have always been.’’ She looked into the fire, sadness settling over her. After a moment she raised her head and looked out beyond them at the low hills fading away in the darkening twilight. ‘‘To think there were once so many of us,’’ she said. ‘‘And now I am the only one.’’ 126 chapter sixteen Lucia felt at peace as she walked with Carlos along the forest path toward the camp of Salvador. The four days away had been good for her and she did not mind so much going back to be the White Sun Woman again. Perhaps it was true what Salvador had told her, that in time she would get used to her new life. Certainly if she could get away like this whenever she wanted, things would not be so bad. Next time they went out, they would have better hunting, and they would take some game to the old woman. When they had left her that morning, in the misty dawn, they had promised her they would return another time. As they approached the point near the camp where they should give a signal to the sentry, Lucia touched Carlos’ arm. ‘‘Let me try it,’’ she said. ‘‘Go ahead,’’ he answered. She raised her head a little and cupped her hands around her mouth and made the barking sound that she had been practicing all day. She did it well and was pleased with herself as she put her hands on her hips and listened for an answer. But in the stillness of the summer noon only silence came back to them. She looked at Carlos. ‘‘Was it so bad? It sounded good to me.’’ He seemed a little puzzled. ‘‘It was good. But perhaps not loud enough.’’ He cupped his hands around his mouth and made his own barking sound, louder than he usually made it, loud enough for anyone to hear. But the dense green forest closed around it and nothing came back except the cawing of crows above the treetops overhead. Fear was coming to Lucia now, slipping in quietly to press against her heart. She looked at Carlos, who was staring ahead up the path, thinking. Then he turned and led the way off the path, and they moved silently together beneath the trees. When they were deep into the forest, far from the path, they stopped beside a great oak tree, its limbs wide and gnarled. Lucia glanced at Carlos. His face was grim. ‘‘You do not think the sentry is sleeping,’’ she said softly. ‘‘No.’’ ‘‘Nor do I. Our signals would have wakened him.’’ ‘‘There is no sentry,’’ said Carlos. ‘‘Maybe it is because the Spaniards have gone. Maybe the camp is no longer...