Fort Whipple

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, O'Brien 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 O'Brien

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 man's 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