Chapter Thirteen

Joe awoke to the sound of metal banging together. When he raised his head, he saw what was making the noise.  A soldier was walking outside the fence…all the way around it, banging two pots together.  The men around him rose to a sitting position and waited until water and what Joe would come to know as mine rations were handed out.  The men were given fifteen minutes to eat.  Then, one by one, they were unshackled and taken to a privy where a soldier waited outside.  Once his business was finished in the privy, the man was escorted to a ladder that had been propped against the rock face for the prisoners to climb up into the mine.

Joe did what he saw the other men do. When he was inside the mine, he was pulled to the side and taken down a short shaft into a large room filled with crates.  “New man,” said the soldier who brought him in.  The soldier there handed him a sledge hammer, a chisel and a smaller hammer.  “You’ll leave these where you’re assigned to dig at the end of the day.”

Next, he was taken down a long shaft to a black, glistening wall at the end.  “All you have to do is cut rock out of this wall.  When you have as many rocks as you can carry in one load, take ‘em back up the shaft to the bucket, then come back and cut more rock.”  There was one soldier at this end of the shaft, sitting in a chair well away from the three men who cut into the wall.  Joe looked around him.  He was in a black box with the same black, glistening walls above, below and all around him.  He shivered and watched the two other men use the chisel and the small hammer to start a crack, then use the sledge to drive the chisel deeper into the rock, fracturing it until a piece fell to the ground.  He began hammering the chisel all the while thinking.  It had still been dark outside when he entered the mine.  He had no idea of the time, and was sure that in only a few days, he would lose track.  There was no way to escape.  The ladder was removed once the prisoners were in the mine, and the drop was too far to jump without breaking a leg.  This was no way to live, and though some of these men must be afraid to die, he surely wasn’t.  I have to hold on.  Adam will be here soon.

The men were given a break after several hours of work.  They were huddled into another large room and made to squat down as they ate their rations.  Looking around, he realized he was surrounded by just as many Indians as white men.  He hadn’t seen any Indians in the yard the night before.  He guessed they must be kept in the mine out of sight of the Indians in the desert.

On what he thought was the third day, trouble began while they were eating.  One of the white prisoners took the dried meat from one of the Indians.  The Indian stood, but the two soldiers in that room quickly stepped in front of him.  “Get back down, savage, or I’ll scalp you and send you out into the sun.”

Joe stood up.  “That man took his food.  If you need to discipline someone it should be him,” said Joe, pointing to the man that had taken the beef.

The soldier stood in front of Joe.  “You’re one of the new prisoners, ain’t you?”  Joe flared his nostrils and looked away.  The soldier quickly shoved the butt of his rifle into Joe’s stomach, doubling Joe over.  “If the Injun isn’t man enough to fight for his own food, he don’t deserve any.”

Joe squatted back down and tore his dried meat in half, handing one half to the Indian.  At first the man turned away, but Joe pushed the meat at him, and the Indian reluctantly took it.

***

An army scout rode into the yard of the mine, tied his horse and went straight to the sergeant.  “We need to talk,” said the scout.  “We may have some trouble.”

The sergeant took him to the shack and closed the door behind them.  “What is it?”

“A man rode into Aurora, asking where he could find Dutton.  He went to the livery, and came back after a while, asking about a wagon and riders.  That dang bartender had a real quiet conversation with him, and then this man went back to the livery.  He didn’t come back out.”

“What else?”

“Well, the bartender wouldn’t say nothin’ about him, so I went over to the sheriff.  It turns out that Nolan brought a boy in that got away from him.  Got all the way down to the sheriff’s office and told the sheriff he wasn’t a prisoner.  The sheriff didn’t think nothin’ of it when Nolan told him he was one of his prisoners.  Now this fellow comes into town lookin’ for the wagon.  I got a sneakin’ suspicion he’s lookin’ for the boy.”

“Did you find out the man’s name?”

“No, the bartender wouldn’t say.”

“The boy’s name is Cartwright.  Go back and see what you can find out about this man.  If the bartender doesn’t want to talk, encourage him.”

“You gonna tell the captain?”

The sergeant looked down at the dirt floor of the shack, thinking.  “No, not yet.  Find what you can about this man in Aurora and come back.  Then I’ll talk to the captain.”