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"By 1870 almost all Apaches had been placed on reservations. My grandfather's grandfather was of the Mescalero clan. His wife was a Lipan Apache from the plains of Texas. In 1878, my grandfather's grandfather was driven from the reservation given his people by treaty near Ojo Caliente. The army sought to move us to a desolate place called San Carlos where we knew our people would die.


Our people joined the Mescalero war chief, Victorio, and raided and killed the whites all over west Texas and Northern Mexico. We were hunted like animals for eight years. Victorio and most of the other braves were killed by Mexican troops in the Tres Castillos mountains south of El Paso but those that survived fought on." He hit the brakes to avoid a speeding delivery truck, muttered a curse in spanish, and began again.


"My grandfather's grandfather survived these battles. He and a few of the other remaining warriors saw that the long dark winter of the N'de had come. They formed a secret clan to preserve our people and the words passed down to us by Changing Woman and Killer-of-Enemies. My grandfather taught me these things when I was young in a special place known only to the elders of this N'de clan...It is a small hidden valley with a waterfall that tumbles over a cave near what is now Lincoln National Forest." He looked over at me. "Joey and Nam describe it perfectly."

We stopped at a street light. His hands clutched the wheel. I could see the muscles in his cheek clinching. He was obviously in some kind of emotional turmoil. "My mother married out of the tribe. She and my father were rejected by the people. My grandfather had to teach me the ways of the N'de in secret..." The light changed. Purcival hit the accelerator a bit too hard. "I hated my people for not accepting me. I hated the white man for what they had done to the N'de...I turned away from my parents, my people and everyone. When I was fourteen, I ran away. I swore I would beat them all." His body tensed as his story reached a climax.