Escape!

The day was hot and dusty, but Johnny knew that it would cool down during the night. Southern Arizona’s nights could freeze a body’s bones sometimes, but he would be moving. Moving as he never had before. Just twenty minutes more. Twenty more minutes and most of the guards would turn in for the night. Only Hopkins would be lift on duty, and Johnny had observed Hopkins for two nights. He was lazy. Why they used him for guard duty Johnny had no idea, but no matter. He was glad they did.

With Hopkins on guard, Johnny could escape the prison cell. For two days he’d been content to dig in the day and watch Hopkins at night. Now he’d succeeded in making a hole to the outside world. The floor was solid stone, sure, and the walls were made of bricks-three deep, but the roof was sod. Fifteen feet high with nothing to use to climb up it or give him a boost. Or so they thought. But Johnny had found a way.

One of the walls on the north side had three partially loose bricks. Of course he had two more layers to get through to the outside and nothing to chip them with except a stone knife he’d managed to keep from any guard’s eye. With this though, he finished digging out the three loose blocks and used them for his stool. He had to stand them on end to be able to reach, but rickety as it was, he used the hole in the wall for some help, and with his agility managed to mount his dangerous stool. Then with his stone knife, he dug a hole through the roof.

Twenty minutes passed and he peeked out the small hole in his door. The guards were drifting to their sleeping quarters. Yes! Hopkins locked the door to the jail building and Johnny was on the blocks and through his hole in the roof. North Johnny. Go north. They won’t look for you to go that way.

Johnny was and Indian and lived on a reservation in Arizona, but freedom was his dream. He escaped the reservation only to be caught and sent to Yuma prison. Eventually he would be executed for killing an Indian agent. They would expect him to try to get across the southern border into Mexico, but he would go north and eventually reach Canada.

His breath came in quick puffs as he traveled through the sand and over the side walks inside the prison walls. Twenty feet high with two rows of barbed wire on top it was foreboding but he would jump it. Next to the gates there were two poles sometimes used for holding the gates open. It was the only thing he could think of. Pole vault over the wall. He’s read about someone doing it in a book one time. He could do it too. The pole wasn’t as thin as he would have liked but it was somewhat flexible. He climbed up onto an empty building to help him reach it’s tip. Then he sprang! 

It carried him up-up-then it stopped and started to fall. No, he was almost over the wall. He reached out frantically and grabbed the fence, biting his lip against the pain. With it he through himself over, ripping his hand open good and crashing to the floor on the other side. His head spun, but-he made it. He was on the other side of the fence. Now!

Jumping to his feet, he took off through the sand and the dust-headed north. 

Three days later he figured they had realized he wasn’t headed south. In the dry sand and dust around the prison there would be no tracks, but they would not stop for months. They would spread out their search now, putting a full effort in every direction.

He had traveled fast, mostly at night, and was far away from Yuma prison, but they would know that, and they would have horses. He must not stop now. He must keep going as far into the day as he could. Usually he stopped where there was some source of water and slept in a cave or thick cluster of boulders until night came again. Often he ran the whole night, being in good condition and young. But it had been a good seventy-two hours since he’d had anything to eat, and he new he would grow weaker if he didn’t find food soon.

Fortunately, though, his hand was doing better for he’s soothed it with some chaparral salve and a good washing. He would have no infection at least.

The next day, instead of sleep, he hunted for food, but as the day grew hotter and he found nothing, he gave up and found a small pool of water in a basin at the foot of a low plateau and slept behind a neighboring scrub bush. When he woke up, he could hear a distant barking sound. Dogs? There were no homes around here . Wait, no! They’d put dogs on his trail! His first impulse was to run. Then he thought. No, I’ll wait for them. No doubt they are ahead of the searchers even if just a little. I will kill one for food and run with as much meet as I can skin out before they get too close.

Only one problem. A weapon and skinning tool. His bone knife? He’d sharpened it on a rock so it might work. He would try it anyway, for he knew now- he was desperate.

He hid himself behind the rocks and waited. They came slowly because his scent was not easy to follow through so much dust. As the winds carried them this way and that, Johnny contemplated how he would kill a dog without evoking the others’ wrath. But when the time came, he’d thought of nothing but spring, strike, and hope for the best.

As the dogs approached, he got ready to spring. Suddenly he heard a gunshot and froze. The dogs located his close sent and spun around the low plateau toward him. Upon spotting him, they bayed like crazy, which would surely bring his pursuers faster. All at once he sprang at one of the dogs, slit its throat, and tore the tough hide open with his knife, but the other dogs went crazy with their barking, and, before he knew it, hoof beats clouded his hearing and dust filled his eyes. His arms were yanked behind him and he was thrown belly down onto a horse and strapped there. Soon his mind turned to darkness and he passed out.

Trooper Kirk woke up early that morning and glanced over toward the prisoner. He was gone! “Sergeant! Sergeant! Wake up! He’s gone.”

The camp was a picture of frenzy. “Mount up, men, and get the dogs!”

Abruptly another set of hoof beats joined theirs and the sergeant was forced to halt. Another trooper joined them. “Sir I have urgent orders for you. Your wanted back at the prison immediately!”

“But I have other orders to bring in a prisoner.”

“The captain says let him go. He’s not as important.”

“Alright, men, turn around. We’re headed back to the prison. And catch the dogs.”