The next day Jim and Ursula left for their honeymoon. I couldn’t go. I had to stay with Mr. Veramendi. He was nice, but his little dog, Chico, drove me crazy with his yelping and snapping at my heels. I would turn and growl at him and he would run and hide, but soon he was back, yelping and snapping again. I was sure glad when Jim and Ursula came back. They acted like they were glad to see me too.
Jim settled down and began to look after his land. But I could tell that he was getting restless. Jim was not the kind of man who could be still for long. No matter how happy he was with Ursula, he needed to be out doing something, going somewhere new, searching for something different. His brother Rezin had come for the wedding, and he was still in San Antonio. Jim spent some time with him. They discussed plans to ride out on the plains to find new lands, but I could tell Jim really wanted to try to find the lost mines. According to the stories, the wealth of these mines would make Jim and Mr. Veramendi the richest men in the territory.
One day Mr. Veramendi sent for Jim. I went with him. A servant took us into Mr. Veramendi’s office. Mr. Veramendi was sitting behind a desk looking at a map. He smiled and stood up as we entered.
“Welcome, Jim.” He shook Jim’s hand. “It’s good to see you. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy that I haven’t visited you. How is Ursula doing?”
“She’s fine, sir. I’m a lucky man.”
“Sit down, Jim. I think it’s time we searched for the mines of San Saba.”
Jim looked up. “The mines? Yes. I’m ready to find them.”
Mr. Veramendi pointed to his map.
“Look here, Jim. I talked to a merchant who just came from that area. He said there are not many people there now. The Comanches have scared them away. Now is the time to look. There will not be people following you to find the mine. The merchant said that the mine is supposed to be in this area.”
Jim looked at the map. He stared at the place where Mr. Veramendi was pointing.
“If the mine is in that area, it shouldn’t be hard to find.”
Mr. Veramendi shook his head.
“Don’t be so sure, Jim. If it were that easy to find, someone would have found it long ago. You’ll have to search the area carefully. I think it’ll take you some time to completely search this place.”
Jim smiled. “Well, Mr. Veramendi, I have nothing but time.”
Mr. Veramendi shook his head.
“You’ll have to be very careful, Jim. The merchant told me that the Comanches were in the area. They attacked his group and he was lucky to escape.”
“I’ll take enough men to fight off the Comanches. When do you want us to leave?”
Mr. Veramendi stood up.
“The day after tomorrow. I’ve already ordered the supplies you’ll need; they should be ready for you. You must tell no one, not even Ursula, what you are searching for. If people hear about this, they’ll follow you.”
“I’ll need to tell the men where we’re going. I can’t ask them to ride into Comanche territory and not know what they’re doing.”
Mr. Veramendi walked over to Jim.
“Wait until you’re on the road for a day. Then anyone who wants to come back can. By the time they get here, you’ll be too far for anyone to catch you. How many men will you take?”
Jim thought for a minute.
“I’ll take ten, including my brother. That should be a large enough group to handle any Indians we might see.”
Mr. Veramendi shook Jim’s hand.
“All right. Your supplies will be waiting for you at the old mission just outside of town. The one they call the Alamo. Good luck, Jim.”
“Thank you, Mr. Veramendi. I think I’ll need some luck.”
As we walked down the street to Jim’s house, he was silent. I could tell he was planning the trip to San Saba. Finally he looked at me and patted my head.
“When we find that mine, Gator, I’m going to get you a fancy collar. What do you think of that?”
I wagged my tail and licked his hand. I wished he would get me a nice bone instead.
The sun had set, and the only light came from our campfire. We had been traveling all day and the men were tired. The smell of roasting meat filled my nostrils as I lay next to Jim. A chill was in the air and the fire felt good. The men sat or lay around the fire. There was not much talking. Rezin and Turner checked on the horses and then walked back into our little circle. Rezin sat next to Jim while Turner carved some meat from the roasting buffalo.
“Are you going to tell us where we’re going now?” Rezin asked Jim.
Jim stretched and looked around the circle.
“I guess now is a good time. We’re headed to the area around the old San Saba Mission ruins.”
Turner chewed his bite, then asked, “Why are we going there? There’s nothing there but snakes and Indians.”
Jim looked into the fire.
“There might be something else. Mr. Veramendi told me there’s a story about a lost mine around there somewhere. He said that mine has more gold or silver than we could ever spend. That’s what we’re looking for.”
The men were listening with interest. They would like to find the mine and get all that gold or silver. Turner reached for another slice of meat.
“Why are we being so sneaky? Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
“Mr. Veramendi didn’t want others to know. He was afraid they’d follow us. They’d certainly be in our way.”
Rezin stood up and brushed the dirt from his pants.
“Well, I’m ready to go find this mine. What time do we start tomorrow?”
“It’s not that easy,” Jim said. “It seems there are some Comanche war parties in that area. We want to try and avoid them. Now, if any of you want to go back to San Antonio in the morning, you are free to do so.”
The men laughed.
“Jim,” Turner said. “You just told us there was a mine out there that was going to make us all rich. Now you want to know if we want to leave? I don’t know about the others, but I’m with you.”
The other men nodded their agreement.
“Good.” Jim smiled. “Remember, there are Comanche war parties out there. Don’t go wandering off. Make sure somebody knows where you are all the time. Keep your eyes open. We cannot afford to be caught by surprise. Now let’s get to sleep. We have a long way to go tomorrow.”
The men rolled up in their blankets and were soon asleep. I watched the meat slowly cooking on the fire. The smell of the meat was making me awfully hungry. I walked over and tried to figure out how I could get that meat. Suddenly I had an idea. I jumped over the fire and grabbed the meat in my mouth. I landed on the other side of the fire and the meat fell to the ground. My tail was scorched, but otherwise I was not hurt. I lay next to the meat and waited for it to cool down. Soon I was eating the meat. It tasted as good as it smelled. Soon my stomach was full. I walked over next to Jim, lay down and went to sleep.
The next morning we were up early. We were riding toward San Saba before the sun had risen. The cool morning air felt good as we made our way across the prairie. The miles melted away and we were soon pausing on top of a small hill. Jim and the others looked around carefully, but there was no sign of any Indians. We rode on because Jim wanted to find a river to camp by that night. Late in the afternoon we found a small stream and made camp. The men’s spirits were high as they settled down to sleep.
A few days later, Jim thought we were getting close to San Saba. He called Turner and Rezin up beside him.
“I think we’ll leave the others in the oak grove. I want you to come with me while I check out the area.”
Soon we were riding across the prairie looking for signs of the lost mine. The men were talking and I was trotting ahead of them, sniffing the air and looking for a rabbit to chase. Suddenly I smelled something. I noticed that the horses were acting like they smelled it too. The men looked around, but there was nothing on the prairie except us. We rode on. The smell was becoming stronger. It smelled like horses and paint and sweat. The horses were looking around and trying to turn back. I had an uneasy feeling as we came to the top of a small hill. We stopped and looked down into the small valley.
As we looked into the valley I saw what I had been smelling. There on the valley floor was a large band of Comanche Indians riding their painted, sweating horses. They had been riding hard, tracking us. I looked up at Jim and the others. They were staring down at the Indians. The Indians did not seem to see us. I thought that if we were very quiet, we might be able to get off the hill and get back to the rest of our party. Jim and the others quietly turned their horses around and started down the hill.
I trotted along beside Jim. I thought we had gotten away from the war party when one of the Indians looked up on the hill and saw us. He gave a loud war cry, and I turned to see the Indians riding as fast as they could toward us. I turned and saw Jim and the other two men riding toward the oak grove. I chased after them as fast as I could run. Behind me I could hear the Indian war cries. An arrow stuck in the ground next to me. I ran faster. I looked past Jim. The oak grove looked very far away, and the Indians sounded really close.
“Grampa. Did the Indians get you?” Princess snuggled next to the old dog.
“Course not,” Butch growled at her. “He wouldn’t be here telling the story if they had.”
The old dog put a paw on Princess’ head.
“I’ll tell you what happened.”
The pups lay next to the old dog as he continued his tale…
I tell you I never ran so fast in my life. I could hear the Indians yelling, and I could feel the ground shaking from the pounding of their horses’ hooves. Jim and his friends were riding as fast as they could toward the oak grove. It seemed like the trees were moving away from us.
Suddenly I saw some smoke coming from the trees. Then I heard the sound of the rifles being fired and soon bullets were whizzing over my head, heading toward the Comanches. The Indians stopped their horses and rode back out of range of the rifles. I saw Jim and the others disappear into the trees. Soon I was in the trees, and I ran under a bush and lay there trying to catch my breath. The horses were placed further into the grove, and then Jim joined the rest of the group as they watched the Indians sitting on their horses looking at us. One of the Indians rode his large black horse a few steps closer to us. He rode in several tiny circles, then stopped as if he was waiting for us to answer him.
“What’s he doing?” Jim asked.
“He wants to talk to us,” one of the men said.
“Do you speak their language, Juan?” Jim asked.
Juan Abamillo shook his head. “No. I know the sign language, and some of them speak Spanish.”
Jim stood up. “Come with me, Juan. I guess we need to find out what he wants.”
Jim and Juan rode out onto the prairie. They stopped before they got too far from the oak grove. The Comanche rode to them. I had followed Jim and I stood behind his horse. I was ready to run back to the trees if anything went wrong. The Indian made a sign of peace. Juan answered him. The Indian began to speak, but Juan shook his head, indicating he did not understand. The Indian began speaking in Spanish. Juan listened, then told Jim what had been said.
“He says he’s the chief of this band. They’ve been down in Mexico looking for horses and cattle. They were on their way home when they saw us. Some of his men are watching the livestock. The rest are here. He says this is his land. He wants to know what we’re doing here.”
Jim looked at the Indian chief. He wore a long feathered headdress, and his face was streaked with red and yellow paint. I thought he was the scariest-looking thing I had ever seen.
“Tell him we come as friends. We’ll only be here a few days. Then we’ll leave. Tell him we mean no harm to him or his tribe.”
Juan spoke to the chief. He listened as the Indian answered him. When the chief had finished speaking, Juan turned to Jim.
“He says we must give him our horses and guns. He’s hungry also, and would like to have your dog.”
I backed up when I heard Juan say that. I had heard that Indians liked to eat dog meat, but I was not going to be his dinner.
Jim shook his head. “Tell him we won’t give him our horses and guns, and he cannot have my dog. There’s plenty of game around here if he’s hungry.”
I felt better when Jim said that. I kept my eye on the Indian. He listened carefully as Juan told him what Jim had said. The Indian was angry and spoke loudly to Juan. Juan looked at Jim.
“He says if you won’t give him your horses and guns, then he’ll take them. He’ll also take your dog, although he thinks it’s too skinny to make a good meal.”
Jim pulled his knife from its scabbard. He held the big blade toward the chief.
“Tell him that this is waiting for him. Before he can have my rifle, horse, or dog, he has to get past my knife.”
Juan told the chief what Jim had said. The Indian angrily turned his horse around and rode back to where his braves had been watching. Jim and Juan quickly rode back to the trees and got off their horses. The men gathered around Jim.
“What did he want, Jim?” Rezin asked.
“Not much. Just our rifles and horses. And Gator. I don’t think he liked it when I told him no.”
“What are they going to do?” Turner asked.
Just then the chief gave a loud war cry. The men looked up in time to see the chief point his lance toward the oak grove and kick his black pony forward in a fast run. The other Indians followed him, yelling loudly.
Jim looked at the onrushing Indian warriors.
“I think he’s going to try and take what he wants,” he said.
The war cries of the Indians filled the air. I looked out from under my bush and saw them charging directly at us. I heard Jim talking to the men as I ducked back under the bush.
“Don’t all fire at once. You five. Shoot first. While they’re reloading, the other five shoot. After you shoot, move to a new position while you reload. They can’t see us in these trees, so they’ll shoot at the gun flash. Let them get closer. Make your shots count. They have a lot more men than we do. If they get to us, we’re done for.”