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Tales of Tok'ra Flats:The Trail to San Antonio.
by Debi C
Mission San Patricio needed money. The old adobe mission supported more than a hundred full
time residents and several other families who were dependently on it during the lean times of
winter. So Father Joe O'Neill had determined that he needed to buy more food for the upcoming
winter. They had lots of grain and other crops from the mission fields, but needed to purchase
meat to subsidize the donations brought in by friendly hunters and some of the parish farmers.
The good Father decided to take some of the beautiful blankets, good baskets and fine painted
pottery that the Indian women made back east to the big city of San Antonio to sell at a profit so
that he could purchase what they needed.
However, this business venture needed the use of a good strong wagon. Coincidently the
blacksmith, Dave Siler, had just finished one that he was wanting to sell for cash money. It
seemed like the perfect match. The Padre could use the wagon to take the Mission's wares to the
city. He could then sell the wagon to pilgrims who needed the use of one to head to their new
enterprises. When he had discussed the undertaking with his brother, Sheriff Jack Judge
Hammond had heard of it and offered him the use of his two big sorrel mules. He did make it
clear though he certainly did want them back. Dolly and Molly were special pets of the
Hammonds and were to be returned...no bones about it.
Sheriff Jack O'Neill had been a little concerned about his brother taking the long trip by himself
with only one of the boys from the Mission traveling with him. Then Daniel, the youngest
deputy, decided that he wanted to go with the priest on his adventure. Jack also spoke of going,
but things were just too busy for him to leave town. There were a few longhorn cattle herds
coming through their little valley chivvied along by cowboys from ranches down south. He knew
his absence would give them a good reason to hooraw it up in the quiet little town. So he
regretfully shook his head and had to pass on the adventure.
The trip to the city had been exciting if happily uneventful. Padre Joe and Daniel had taken their
wares to the main plaza of the sprawling city and people had come in droves to buy the high
quality textiles, baskets and pottery. They had made quite a bit more money than they expected.
Then they took the big Conestoga wagon to the train depot and sold it quite handily as well to an
Alsatian family that was headed to Castroville and wanted a sound vehicle. The farmer and his
wife were pleased with their purchase and found a pair of oxen that suited them also for their
long trip west.
The next morning Father Joe and Daniel saddled the two big mules and headed out the dirt road
back to the Tok'ra Mountains. Both were excited by the amount of money they had garnered and
were anxious to get home. The priest was hoping to purchase some of the cattle from south
Texas that were being driven through their area before they left.
As they traveled, talking and planning what they could do with their fortune, they entered the
outskirts of a small village. They noticed several small children who had stopped playing to stare
at the sight of two men riding their mules instead of driving them.
As they continued on into the town, a heavy set grizzled man came out of his smithy and called
to the children to come in off of the road. He was wearing coarse, heavy clothes as was common
to a blacksmith. Daniel recognized the smoke and grime of a hardworking man and waved at
him. The man came up to them wiping his hands.
"Morning, gents. Kin I be of service to you?"
Joe nodded. "My friend and I have traveled a long time. We'd be happy if you could point us in
the direction of a tavern where we could get some good food."
"Surely, gents. Bell's saloon and restaurant is on the main street of the town just a bit of a ways
from here. Just keep to this road, cross the river and you'll see it as you come into town. It will
take you there never fear." He looked at the two mules. "Mighty fine mules, you got there. They
for sale?"
"No, we're just on our way back to Tok'ra Flats. They belong to a friend and we couldn't part
with them."
"Always a need for good mules like them here abouts and these are surely fine ones."
Daniel patted Dolly on the shoulder. "Yes, she is indeed. Thanks for your directions; we can use
a good meal about now."
They smiled and thanked the friendly man and turned up the road toward town. They found the
diner and enjoyed a good western meal of steak, potatoes and turnips with greens. As they left
the town, they saw a dairy man's cart with an old gray horse hitched to it. A neat looking middle-
aged man was delivering his milk and cheese to the different buildings along the way. Daniel
looked at the cart longingly. "Do you think that he would sell us some of his milk and cheese for
later on?"
Father Joe shrugged. "We can but ask him."
When the dairy man came back from putting a bottle at a house, he was surprised to see two
young men standing by his cart quietly holding their mules. One was scratching his old Dobbin's
chest. "Morning, gents. How may I help you?"
"We would like to purchase some of your milk and cheese." Joe replied. "My young friend and I
just had a wonderful meal at Bell’s but want a little food for the trail. Could you sell us some of
your good food?"
The man looked at them in a puzzled manner. "Course I can. Always willing to sell to honest
gents like yourselves. I know how long a trail can be without food for the belly."
"Thank you very much. My name is Daniel Jackson and we'd be much obliged."
"Glad to help you on your way." He answered as he pulled a glass bottle of milk, a small wheel
of cheese and a crusty loaf of brown bread from a box under the seat of the cart. "It's simple fare
but filling. My wife makes the bread fresh each day."
"This will do fine." Daniel assured him with a smile. "I like simple foods and the milk looks
good and fresh."
"Fresh as this morning's dew." The man smiled back. "That's when we took it from the cows."
Their transaction finished, the man continued on his delivery round and left, richer by a silver
dollar.
The two friends continued on, following the road out of town. Just at the edge of town they
topped a hill giving them a scenic view of a quiet river over which a stout stone bridge spanned.
The bucolic scene was interrupted by shouting and the crack of a bull whip. At the bottom of the
hill they could see a commotion going on. They picked up their pace trotting the mules down to
the violent commotion.
When they reached the foot of the hill, a drama was enacting itself. Just off the stone bridge was
a heavily laden cart leaning askew. The wheel had come off the side of the bridge and was
jammed up against the muddy riverbank. The single horse had been struggling with it for
sometime as evidenced by the torn up earth and the red face of the driver. The man was angrily
shouting curses at the little grey mare and was now vigorously laying on her back with the heavy
whip. Finally, the Mustang went down completely on her side in the muck and had given up
entirely. The only thing holding the pony's head up out of the mud was a tightly buckled bearing
rein fastened up short to the back pad of the harness. She was breathing heavily, and blood
dripped from the gag bit in her mouth onto the muddy ground.
When Daniel had seen what was going on he couldn't believe his eyes. He jumped down from
his mule and ran up to the man and pushed him away from the tortured creature down into the
river mud. He then turned to help the animal pulling his skinning knife out of its sheath in his
boot. He quickly reached down and slashed the thick leather bearing reins with quick cut of the
sharp blade.
The furious man struggled in the sucking mud. "What the bloody hell!" The man hollered as he
saw his attacker bending over his animal.
Father Joe had been following at a more sedate pace when he noticed the heavy dray man pick
himself up from the mud and get to his feet. The man was now gripping a stout branch that had
been lying at the water’s edge. "Daniel! Look out, behind you."
At Joe's shout of alarm, Daniel turned to see the man was advancing on him, anger written on his
dark visage. "Get away from my hoss! It's none of your affair, you blackguard."
Daniel faced his attacker, knife still in his hand, blade up in a fighter's stance. "It is you who are
evil, u-ne-ga a-s-ga-ya (white man). Only a fool treats his helper with violence. Your horse
cannot pull this load tied as she is. It is stupid."
"Stupid am I?" The big man stepped forward swinging his weapon. "I'll show you, you
jackanape!" As he came forward, the smaller man ducked under his blow and deflected the
branch with his left forearm. With his right, Daniel brought the bone-handled knife up under the
man's chin, nicking the skin causing it to begin to bleed. He then swept the man's feet out from
under him dropping him again into the mud. He followed his assailant down, planting a knee on
the man's chest. "Stay down, and I will not take your u-s-ka-Ni-gi-li." (scalp)
In the distance, Daniel could hear running footsteps and shouts. He then felt Joe's hand on his
shoulder. "Daniel, you must get up. The sheriff is coming."
He stared down at the man's fear widened eyes, then slowly got up off of the bully's chest.
"Good."
"Here! Here! What's happening here?" A man obviously the Sheriff came running up followed
by several other men. "You there, youngster, give me that pig sticker." The Sheriff came forward
showing no sign of fear at the impressive weapon. "Give it to me and we'll get this sorted out."
Father Joe started talking. "This man was savagely beating his horse." He pointed rather
unnecessarily at the muddied man on the ground. "Daniel had only stopped him when the man
attacked him with a club."
"Aye, I saw the whole thing." Another man, horseman, had come up the road from behind them
to speak up. "He was beating the poor critter. It couldn't even get to its feet anymore."
Then another voice chimed it. It was the dairy man who had left his own horse and cart standing
patiently on the road. "The young man was trying to help the mare get up by cutting the bearing
strap on the harness.
"It's my horse. I can beat it if I need to." The carter climbed to his feet and glared at the two
gentlemen. "And what business is it of his if I do?"
"Shut yer yap, Wilson. Let the man speak for himself." The officer looked up and down Daniel.
"And who be you, Sir?" He asked calmly.
Daniel nodded to the officer. "My name is Daniel Jackson. We're only passing through your
town on our way home."
Joe took over noticing Daniel's reticence to announce his position. "I'm Father Joe O'Neill of
Mission St Patricio several days west of here. My friend here is a deputy of Tok'ra Flats. He'd
come with me to San Antonio on business.
"Well now, I've heard of Tok'ra Flats out in the Indian Territory. Lots of good talk going on
about the town lately." The officer reached out with an open hand. "Give me the blade," Daniel
reluctantly handed his skinning knife to the officer handle first. "Now, Wilson, tell me yer story."
The man stepped forward. "I was bringing a load of salted beef into the town to send to San
Anton' by train. My horse took a wrong step coming off the bridge and the wheel jammed. The
beast balked on me, so I was whipping her up to get on my way." He glared at the two young
gentlemen. "Then these two Lords of the Realm knocked me on my arse. He pulled a knife on
me, and me an honest workman trying to get my goods to the rail."
The policeman looked at Daniel suspiciously. "Is that true sir?"
"No, I was using it to cut that strap on the harness." He pointed to the bearing rein that had been
attached to the bridle of the horse. “She can't get up with it so tight." He looked at the burly
workman. “I did knock him down, but I didn't use the knife on him."
"What kinda knife is this? I've not seen one like this before?"
"It's a skinning knife made with an elk horn handle." He tried to stand patiently, but kept looking
at the horse over his shoulder. She was lying on her side in the mud. Her eyes were closed in
defeat. He'd seen that look before and he hated it. He turned to Wilson. "Look, you're taking the
load to market to sell right?"
The man looked at him suspiciously. "Aye, what of it?"
"Will you sell it to me?" He looked back at the still panting animal lying on the ground. "The
load, the wagon and the horse?"
Wilson eyed him for a moment. "I want Twenty five silver dollars. Not that paper stuff."
Daniel glanced at the priest who nodded his approval. O'Neill then turned and fished around in
his coat pocket pulling out a leather drawstring purse. "I'll pay your twenty five silver dollars.
That's for the horse, the cart and the load of salted meat."
Watson glared from the Sheriff to the priest to Daniel. He nodded agreement to the sale.
Daniel looked at him in dismay. "Padre, that's a lot of money."
The Priest looked at him in amusement. "Is it now?"
"It is a good bit." The Sheriff remarked.
"Is she worth it to you, Daniel?" Joe looked at the younger man.
"Padre, have you ever been starved, tortured and beaten?" Daniel answered softly.
"Faith, of course no." Father Joe answered softly.
The blue eyes stared into his brown. "Well, I have, and that's exactly what's going on here.”
They locked gazes for a moment then Joe nodded, handing the bag to his friend.
Danny smiled. "Thank you, I'll pay you back with interest."
Joe just sighed and smiled at Jackson's outlandish behavior.
Jackson turned to face the large workman and the constable. He then looked around the small
crowd that had gathered. He raised his voice slightly. "I have twenty five silver dollars here in
my hand. I want to buy the pony, the beef and the cart. Is this a fair price?"
The crowd murmured amongst themselves. Daniel showed the coins around, and then showed
them to the constable. "See, officer, I speak the truth."
The policeman took the money and counted it out in front of Wilson. "Aye, twenty five dollars it
is."
Daniel then looked directly at the larger man. "I offer you a good deal, I think. Will you take it?"
"You want my cart and meat too?"
"Of course, I'm not such a fool as to pay that much for a poor old pony." Daniel shook his head.
"I figure that I've put you behind schedule for the train, and you look like someone who needs a
bigger cart and horse anyway." He looked around at the crowd again. "Is it too little for this rig?"
He wanted to get this over with quickly before the pony suffered anymore.
The milkman stepped forward. "Nay lad, it’s too much. She's only a half dead Mustang, and the
cart is old."
"I know, but we have to get home soon and don't have much time." He looked at Wilson. "Well,
do you agree to the deal?"
The sheriff looked at the workman. "Take it Wilson, you can get a better rig and pay off yer
saloon bill."
The blacksmith was also standing in the crowd with his young boy beside him. "Aye, Wilson.
Let the poor beast go and make yerself a profit for a change. She's not big enough for yer work
and you know it." The crowd nodded and murmured in agreement.
Wilson blushed bright red and looked from Jackson's face to the money in the constable's hand.
"Ay, all right then. I'll take it."
"And you won't be bringing no charges or telling no tales." The big man nodded. "Its more than a
fair deal, ye got. Agreed?"
"Agreed." Wilson took the money from the officer, pulled his hat down over his dark brow and
turned on his heel and started walking up the road without another word. Daniel smiled and
nodded at the raised eyebrows of the lawman. "Can I have my knife back to cut this poor pony
loose?"
The officer nodded and handed in back to him. "I just hope you two haven't wasted yer money.
She looks bad off."
Daniel turned and finished slashing through the leather straps of the harness. "As long as she's
alive, it's worth it."
The blacksmith stepped up along with Joe and the men got the traces unhitched from the fallen
pony. She lay in the mud and groaned.
Daniel stepped up to her head and pulled the whole bridle off freeing her mouth from any
constriction. "Come along, u-s-di a-ge-lv. (Little lady) Let's get you home."
She lay in the mud for a few more minutes then taking a big breath she struggled gamely to her
feet. The harness fell free from her body as she rose. Everyone in the crowd could see the new
cuts from the whipping and old scars from earlier beatings. Even her mouth was bleeding from
the gag bit and the check rein.
Daniel picked up a long driving rein from where it lay in the mud and tied it slowly around the
gaunt neck. "Pobrecito, (poor little one) come on." He spoke softly to the little horse and led her
gently from the mud. He stood awhile and stroked her face, letting her catch her breath.
The milk man shook his head. "Tom Wilson wasn't always a bad man, son. He's had some bad
luck and sometimes he takes it out on his own."
"Aye," the blacksmith said sadly. "It's a pity a grown man can sink so low."
Daniel looked to Padre Joe. "Wasn't some of what you needed for the Mission, meat for the
winter?"
"Yes, it is actually." Joe went back to the barrels and pulled the lid off. "And this is apparently
well smoked pork."
After Wilson left, Daniel and Joe unpacked the mule harness from their saddlebags and with the
help of the blacksmith and his son unsaddled Dolly and Molly and got their harnesses on. In a
short while the two mules were hitched to the heavy wagon and had it pulled off of the bridge
and out of the mud. Daniel fashioned a halter for the little mare from her long driving reins and
tied her to the tailgate of her old load. She still appeared tired and poor, but she raised her head
and looked around as if confused by her change of station and luck.
The blacksmith came up to the two men. "There it is then. A good ending for all." He smiled at
the two men. "And my name is Jones, sir. Angus Jones and this is my lad here, Henry." The
blacksmith introduced himself.
Daniel turned and gravely shook the youngster's hand. "I thank you for your help with the
wagon, Henry."
The boy patted the Mustang on her mud covered muzzle. "Thanks for helping the horse, Sir."
Joe squinted up at the sun. "Daniel, we should be leaving now. It will be dark in a few hours and
now we're leading a lame horse. It'll take us at least another day on the trail."
The younger man sighed. "Yep, you're right as rain as usual, Padre. Jack will be all worried."
Daniel then looked at the smiling dairy man thoughtfully. "You don't happen to know who might
have any bees around here do you?"
The man looked startled. "Well, sir, I have some hives and I sell a bit of honey with the milk. In
fact," he walked back to his cart and rummaged in between the jars of milk and wheels of cheese.
He came up with a small earthenware tub. "This is the last I have today. Please, take it for the
pony. You want it as a cure, don't you?"
Daniel smiled happily at him. "Thank you, you are right. How did you know?"
"My old mother would use it on wounds. They'd never go bad." He smiled back at the young
gentleman. "Well, I must be going, I'm through with my rounds, but a dairyman is never finished
with his work. Have a safe journey back to Tok'ra Flats."
It was deep twilight several days later when the two young men, their wagon and extra horse
rolling back into Tok'ra Flats. As soon as Jack saw them he walked out to greet his compadres.
"Daniel! Joe! Where the hell have you two been?"
Joe frowned at him as they both climbed down. Daniel went immediately to the back of the
wagon. "What language is that to greet your priest with?"
Jack shook his head and enveloped his brother in a hug. "The kind I always use. I was about to
send out the posse for you two."
Daniel looked at him mischievously from beside his new horse. "Calm down Jack. Every thing's
all right. We're fine."
"Hell, Danny, we thought you'd been knocked in the head and thrown in a bar ditch. You should
have been home yesterday." he walked around and looked at the poor mare.
Joe was smiling at the entertainment as he spoke up. "No, Jack, young Daniel became involved
with a business transaction with one of the locals a ways back."
"What kind of transaction was that? As if I couldn't guess."
Danny blushed "Uh, Jack, do you have any cash?"
Jack looked at him suspiciously. "Yeah. How much do you need?"
"Twenty five dollars I owe the Padre here."
"What the hell did you buy for Twenty five dollars?" The older man groused as he dug around in
his trouser pockets.
"Why Jack, I bought a pony. Isn't she pretty?" Danny grinned at Jack's expression.
O'Neill looked at the small scrawny, muddy pony and sighed. "Well, not now, but I'm betting she
will be."
Joe smiled at the two friends. "Don't worry about the money, Jack. It was for the cart and meat
too. I would have paid more than that for the meat here and still have to cure it.
Dave Siler and Lou Ferretti came over from the stable to see what was going on. Jack looked
from them to Daniel to the exhausted little mare. "So who's gonna tell the tale?"
"Daniel rescued her from a cruel owner." Father Joe added helpfully. "She'd gone down in the
traces of her cart, and he probably would have beaten her to death on the road."
Jack nodded wordlessly. The neglect and abuse were quite evident, the horse's story written in
every scar, scab and cut that showed through the dull ragged coat of the little horse. He bent
down check her breathing and look at her teeth.
He could see Daniel had already done quite a bit of doctoring on the poor critter on their trip.
There were old wounds from an ill-fitting harness that were festering and new hurts from the
beating she'd taken. Her knees were skinned up from falling and her legs were sore from plain
overwork.
That the little horse was still alive was a testament to her heart and courage, not to mention the
timeliness of her rescue. From Joe's description it was a good thing that O'Neill hadn't been
there. He wouldn't have been as polite as Daniel had been. "She's done in, that's for sure."
Daniel looked to his friend. "Jack, do we have room for her in one of the corrals for the night."
The older man nodded. "Oh, I'm sure ole Brown Pony won't mind a new girlfriend." He stroked
the mare's face gently. "She looks like she's had a long row to hoe and no rest nor food to help
her."
Daniel only nodded. "A little kindness and some green grass will work wonders on her body. Her
spirit will take a little longer."
"Well, Danny, she couldn't be in better hands than yours, I'm here to tell you." He looked at the
two trail worn young men. "But right now, I'm thinking you both need a little TLC yourownselfs.
Come on inside and have some supper. The boys here will take good care of your little gal
tonight." He nodded to Siler and Ferretti who had already started to unharness the mules and get
ready to put them up for the night in the barn.
"Yes sir, don't your worry Daniel." Dave stepped up to take the reins of the grey mare from her
rescuer. Lou had already taken the two mules.
"I'll make her a bran mash for the evening. You want her in a corral instead of a stall?"
"Yes, a small hot mash and lots of grass hay, unless there's plenty of grazing in the pen."
"I know just the spot for her. I see to her myself, Daniel." Dave stroked the mare gently on the
head. "She'll rest well tonight, as should you."
Jack looped his arm over Danny's shoulders. "C'mon you two, lets go find you your own supper.
I'm thinking a good hot toddy and some of that good roast beef they had for dinner over at the
saloon should put you right."
Joe smiled and fell in on Daniel's other side. "Excellent! I'm starving."
"Well, Joe, you know what they say."
"What's that?" He looked suspiciously at his older brother.
"The Lord helps those that help themselves."
"Amen brother Jack, amen." And the three men walked towards the welcoming lights of The
Emerald City Saloon.
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