Navajo Long Walk Read Online Free Page A

“Grandmother, Gray Dog caught the rabbit for himself. I took it away from him. He is hungry, too.”
    Wise One stood up. Pushing Kee’s black hair away from his forehead, she said, “He is a good dog. We will give him his share of the rabbit.”
    At dawn the next morning the little family was walking again. About the middle of the afternoon they came out on the brow of a hill overlooking the valley where Fort Defiance stood. They gazed down on a group of log and adobe buildings, a collection of old mud pigsties, and corrals filled with hundreds of sheep.
    As they started down the long hill, Gray Dog began to whimper and run ahead of the family. “Call him back, Kee,” Wise One said. He is itching to herd those sheep. He may get into trouble.” Two soldiers with guns were walking up and down near the corrals.
    Kee shouted at Gray Dog. The dog returned, whimpering and running in circles around Kee. The boy put down the things he was carrying. He took the dog’s head in his hands. “I know how you feel about the sheep. Someday we will get some sheep again for you to herd. Now stay with me.”
    Hasba said, “I wish we could tell which are our sheep. They were our friends. In those big corrals they all look alike.”
    â€œI hate the white man for stealing them.” Kee told his grandmother.
    â€œHate will not bring back the sheep,” Wise One said. “Hate can do nothing but hurt the one who hates.”
    On the way down the hill they stopped to talk with several family groups who had set up camp. A few had tents supplied by the army. With the large number of Navajos arriving daily the supply had soon been exhausted. Some Indians had made brush shelters. Others camped on open ground with only blankets or pieces of canvas for protection.
    Wise One asked each group if anyone had seen Strong Man or heard what happened to him. No one knew anything about him.
    A chilly wind began to blow by the time they reached the bottom of the hill. Wise One was anxious to find a place to camp before the winter day ended. Opposite the fort parade grounds she saw a narrow wash. A few families were camped at the opening. Leading Small Burro, she skirted around the campers and went into the wash until she came to a scraggly little juniper tree growing sideways out of the bank. She tied the donkey to the tree and began to unload. “We will be warmer down here in the wash than on the hill. It will protect us from the wind.”
    Bugle notes sounded through the chill winter air. A woman called up the wash, “Old One, that is the call for us to go to the fort for food. Bring something to carry it in.”
    Wise One carried two flat round baskets when she and the children lined up with other Navajos on the parade grounds. At the doorway of an adobe warehouse where supplies were handed out, a soldier dumped a dipperful of white stuff into one basket. Another soldier dumped a dipperful of red beans into the other, and a third soldier handed Kee a small slab of bacon. Wise One gave Hasba a basket to carry. “What is this white stuff, Grandmother? Is it to eat?”
    Kee put a pinch of it in his mouth. He spit and spit. “It is poison, I think.”
    A woman behind Wise One spoke. “No, it is not poison. It is flour. The white people use it all the time. A soldier told us to mix a little water with it and cook it in thin cakes on a hot rock. It does not taste good but it is something to eat.”

    The bone-weary family reached their camp. Kee held a little of the flour on his palm for Gray Dog. The dog turned his head away. “It must be poison, Grandmother. Gray Dog has too much sense to eat it. Shall I dump it out?”
    â€œNo indeed, child. No food should ever be wasted. Tomorrow I will find a way to fix it. Tonight I am too tired to think.” Wise One gave each of them a little food from the sacks she brought from their home. Spreading the sheepskins behind a