Exiled: Memoirs of a Camel by Kathleen Karr

Author:Kathleen Karr
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: AmazonEncore
Published: 2013-01-29T08:00:00+00:00

Eight

“Ali, my friend!”

A surprise waited for us in the place called El Paso. As our caravan meandered through the dusty streets of the town, a familiar head popped through the beaded door of a shop the soldier-beasts called a cantina.

Hi-Jolly?

Our progress halted completely as the cameleer lurched toward us, a huge grin disfiguring his face. He swayed before me, arms spread wide to embrace my neck. “I have come back to you! Are you not pleased?”

Humph. I grunted and spat.

He backed off. “So. You feel I deserted you. This I can understand. But a man must stand up for himself, even in the land of Infidels. Else he is not a man.”

Hi-Jolly squared his narrow shoulders. “Someday maybe you will know this. We should be worth our labor, man and camel alike. Still, I am back, with good U.S. coins to spend.” He slapped my side. “Six months’ back wages, Ali. Approved by the great sultan himself in Washington City. There are entertainments on which to spend them too.” He jingled the pouch below his robes with a smile. “And the promise of more work all the way to California.”

“Cut the gab, Hi-Jol,” yelled one of Beale’s soldiers from the wagon just behind. “Reunions are on your own time. We got furlough comin’ soon’s we stable these animals.”

Hi-Jolly gave Billy a sloppy salute. “The señoritas have been waiting.”

Wild whoops burst from the soldiers all the way to our stopping place. Hi-Jolly staggered along and immediately began removing my burdens as if he’d never abandoned me.

“What’s this? A saddle sore? A thousand curses upon these unfeeling soldiers! But I will fix this quickly, Ali. Before we move again. It is not yet bad.”

So Hi-Jolly walked among us once more. He chattered, consoled, and spread acrid greases upon our backs into the night. I forgave him.

We moved north along the Rio Grande, arriving at a larger town called Albuquerque. Here we rested for a number of days while Beale went about some mysterious business. After the first night we learned that Hi-Jolly had his own mysteries to attend. He supervised our care in a very slapdash manner, then disappeared on the trail of the soldier-beasts—all heading for this Albuquerque. And in the morning there would be much wailing and breast beating, at least from Hi-Jolly.

Our cameleer began appearing late for his duties, looking almost as green as those days upon the sea. When we grunted, he would clutch his head in pain.

“Hush. Hush, my beauties. The cantina last night, it did me less good than the one the night before.”

I could not understand the cause of Hi-Jolly’s illness—the head pains, the periods of dizziness—until one of the soldier-beasts came trailing after him on the third morning. He motioned to his own head, which also appeared painful.

“Dang near drank us all under the table last night, Hi-Jol.” He slapped our cameleer on the back. Hi-Jolly cringed, but not in fright. “Never knew a furriner like you could swallow wine so fast. All that back pay must be burnin’ a hole in your pocket.

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