Chapter three
The Americans took the trussed up boy to a place called Fort Whipple
A fly blown group of tents surrounded by a stone and timber stockade
An American called Willis was the boss there and he glared at the man of God
As he entered with his captives
He noticed the boy when he was brought in with a few Yavapai girls
And he looked into the color of his eyes
What do you make of him?, he asked the God man
He may be the young OBrien boy, who was lost here years ago
Or he could be from the Jebson party that never made it to New Mexico
Said the God man back
They named the boy Jebson OBrien but the natives and frontiersmen called him Blue because of his eyes
But also because of the awful and most sad expression he carried on his face
The expression of someone who kills with compassion, but not mercy
Although he was still a boy, the men mostly kept away from him
All except for one, a trapper who understood his skills
And in return fed him and taught him the white mans way
In a short while he could speak and read
And write their language and he also added the calm
Fast dignity of a gunman to his arsenal
He was so fast that men treated him with care
But he was slow to anger and when angry
Swift and final in his reply
In the Arizona desert in the 1860s
He had every skill that you needed to survive
And he was just 17