Holding Their Own: The Salt War Read Free Page B

individual ownership over all other things, including the wellbeing of their neighbors. The Comanche couldn’t understand that way of living either… of personal property, or owning a hunk of the earth. I don’t agree with it, but no one should be surprised that they fight to protect what they believe is their God-given property.”
    Rocco surveyed the passing desert through the dust-covered window glass, bored with what seemed to be an endless debate. He, like the majority of his village, was beyond questioning the justification of the war. Now, his mind was occupied with the burden of leadership and the goal of winning the conflict. It was the only path he could see to end his people’s plight.
    “Not long ago, after the trucks stopped coming to the village, five pounds of salt cost a pound of meat. Then the Salineros raised the price, doubling the amount we had to pay. Next, they wanted ammunition, tequila, tomatoes, and corn. Our people were already starving, but we traded and suffered while they sat back, hired more guns, and grew fat. Our children worked in the fields with their ribs sticking out while the gringos were stockpiling the results of our labor. And still it wasn’t enough. Do you remember, Señor? Do you recall the night they raided the village and took the girls?”
    The old man grimaced, crossing himself and mumbling. “God help their souls.”
    “That was the end of my rope,” Rocco whispered, touched by the memory. “That night changed so many of us. Before, I was a peaceful farmer, and now I carry a gun to kill men.”

    Bishop knew water was the key to his family’s survival. His Camelbak held a few quarts, the two additional plastic bottles in his pack doubling their supply. But that wasn’t nearly enough, especially considering the bone-dry, hot desert terrain.
    Food wouldn’t be an issue right away, the emergency MREs sufficient for at least 3-4 days if they were careful.
    Keeping vigil at the opening of their shelter, he watched patiently as the shadows grew longer across the valley below. Any concern over pursuit had vanished long ago; now he was waiting for the light and heat to fade so he could scout the surrounding territory.
    “I’m going to do a little exploring,” he informed Terri. “There might be a huge shopping mall right over this crest, and we’d never know it.”
    His wife grunted, pointing to a sleeping Hunter. “Be sure to check out aisle 4 while you are there and see if they have some diapers.”
    “Seriously,” Bishop continued, “We’re going to have to make a decision very soon. I don’t know this area at all, and we are either going to have to stay put and wait for someone to come looking for us or try to walk out.”
    “I don’t like either option,” she responded, “but I do understand that we have some hard choices ahead of us.”
    “I’m going to circle our little hacienda, no more than a half mile in any direction. If there’s water nearby or some other sign of civilization, then we can form a plan around that. If not, then at least we’ll know. You need to keep watch while I’m gone - just in case.”
    Terri nodded, kissing him on the cheek. “How will I know it’s you coming back in?” she asked, hefting her rifle.
    “Do you remember our signal when we were staying back at the ranch?”
    Smiling, she nodded. “You would throw a rock onto the camper roof. It used to scare the crap out of me, but then I was always so relieved that you were home and safe.”
    “That seems like a lifetime ago,” Bishop replied, his tone reminiscent. “This is going to sound funny, but in a way, I kind of miss those days.”
    Terri considered her husband’s remark. “Really? I remember both of us losing weight like crazy, worrying about where we would get our next meal. Hunter was on the way, and we didn’t know how we were going to fill another stomach.”
    “Yes, but we were together. We were fighting our way through side by side. I don’t