The Story of Geronimo Part 4

Geronimo was confronted by a lanky man whose only garment was a tattered _serape_, or blanket-like robe, that was draped over one shoulder and pinned at the sides with thorns. His hair looked as though it hadn't been combed in years, his beard was as tangled. His body was dirty. His eyes were both cunning and humble.

In sharp contrast were the fierce eyes of a golden eagle that the Mexican had imprisoned in a wooden cage. In spite of broken and bedraggled feathers, the eagle still looked royal. The Mexican lifted the cage.

"See?" he whined. "See, Senor Apache? Grieved though I must be to part with anything so precious, this n.o.ble bird is yours for only three horses."

Geronimo brushed haughtily past the man and walked on. The peddler called anxiously, "Will you give me some mescal?"

Geronimo's eyes expressed his disgust. If wild things were not meant for the wilds, the G.o.d, Usan, would not have placed them there. They might be hunted for food but never should any be imprisoned.

"Some tobacco?" the eagle's captor wailed.

Geronimo turned, glared, and the Mexican scurried away. Geronimo continued his unhurried walk. Kas-Kai-Ya was truly remarkable, largely, Geronimo thought, because so many people could live in such a small area. They were so crowded that Geronimo wondered how they kept from suffocating each other.

He saw a man lying with his head on a chunk of adobe, the same sun-dried brick from which the town walls and all the buildings were fashioned.

Suddenly the man leaped up and began to scream. Other Mexican men, women, even children at once started to scream or shout as loudly as they could. The clamor was deafening.

The amazed Apaches halted and gaped. After a bit, a.s.suring himself that this senseless yelling must be a sickness suffered by those who allow themselves too little room, Geronimo went on.

Presently he halted beside a Mexican who had a basket supported by a ragged rope over one shoulder. The basket was divided into compartments and filled with gla.s.s beads that were separated according to color.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _He halted beside a Mexican_]

The beads were so fascinating that Geronimo scarcely knew that the horrible din had quieted.

He caught up a half dozen a.s.sorted beads and one by one put them back in the proper compartments. He took out his pouch of gold. But though he yearned for the beads, and would gladly have given all his gold for them, he was too good a trader to offer everything at once. Geronimo dropped two small nuggets onto the palm of his hand and held them out.

"No," the bead vendor refused.

But excitement made him breathe hard, and he could not take his eyes from the pouch. Geronimo gave him two more nuggets. The Mexican gasped and Geronimo thought he was once more refusing. Recklessly he poured half the gold into the bead vendor's palm. The Mexican moaned, slipped the basket from his own shoulder and hung it on Geronimo's, cupped the gold with both hands, and ran.

Geronimo dropped the still half-filled pouch of gold into the dust and forgot it. He noticed for the first time that his comrades were making their way toward the gate. Trading had been brisk. The Apache trade goods were gone and each warrior had at least a double handful of knickknacks. The _rurales_ drew their horses aside and let the departing Apaches through the gate.

The Indians started back to their camp. But when they were halfway there Mangus Coloradus halted suddenly. A split second later, every warrior was alert. From a brush-grown _arroyo_, or gully, came the hushed voice of Pedro Gonzalez, one of those who had stayed behind.

"This way."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The eighty melted into the _arroyo_ as quietly as eighty quail might slip away from an approaching hunter. They found Nadeze with Pedro. The wives of five of the men who had gone into town and the wives of four who had stayed behind were there also. And two girl children. The faces of all showed shocked, numbing grief. But the eyes of all, even the two children, blazed with fury.

"Some _rurales_ came!" Pedro snarled. "I know not from where! But they outnumbered us two to one. And when we warriors would have fought rather than let them enter the camp, they reminded us that this is a time of peace! They said they wished only to trade and talk, but once among us they attacked without warning! We slew many, but our horses, our arms, our trade goods, are now theirs! Of those men, women, and children who stayed behind, we alone live!"

"Where are the _rurales_ now?" asked Mangus Coloradus.

"In what was our camp, awaiting your return," Pedro said.

Mangus Coloradus said, "When Apaches do not make fools of Mexicans, the Mexicans seem determined to make fools of themselves. The _rurales_ must have known that some escaped, and that we would be warned. They should have ambushed us as we left the gates of Kas-Kai-Ya."

Sadly he thought of all who had been killed. Then he added "I will take the wives of our brave men and these two children with me, and I will hold myself responsible for their safety. Of the rest, each seek a different path and hide his trail. We will meet at the place we have chosen to be our rendezvous."

A moment later, the _arroyo_ was empty of Apaches.

CHAPTER FIVE

_Flight_

Light from a thin slice of moon glanced from the Bavispe River, stole through thinly leaved trees, and painted a lichen-crusted boulder with moonbeams.

But the moonlight made not the faintest impression in the grove of thick-limbed, heavy-trunked trees on the river's bank. Beneath the trees it was black enough for devils to dance. But any devils who might have been there would have been frightened away by the Apaches who had come to Mexico in peace but who knew now that there must be war. This grove was their appointed rendezvous should anything go amiss while they were trading.

Geronimo sat as though he had lost everything that made him alive but was still not dead. He knew dimly that Mangus Coloradus was talking in low tones with men whom Geronimo was too dazed to recognize.

The Mimbreno chief said, "We must go to our village."

"And leave our dead?" The question was laden with heartbreak.

Mangus Coloradus said, "We are deep in enemy country, with few arms, no food, and no horses. Is there another way?"

"I will not go," Nadeze said firmly.

"Then you will not return to meet again those who ma.s.sacred our people,"

said the chief.

"Return?" Nadeze was puzzled.

"We will come again," Mangus Coloradus promised, "but with warriors only."

"Ha!" Nadeze snarled like an angry puma. "If my dead know that, they will forgive me for leaving! I must go and tell them!"

Others announced their intention to return to the encampment for one last visit with their dead.

"Go we may, but we must go cautiously and we must not linger," Mangus Coloradus said. "The _rurales_ may still await us there. If they do not, the night is our friend. And we must ask our friend to shield us while we travel far."

A clear thought penetrated Geronimo's numbed brain. At the time when the ma.s.sacre must have occurred, the people of Kas-Kai-Ya had set up a deafening racket. Why, if not to make it impossible for the warriors in town to hear rifle shots?

The thought faded and Geronimo was again a live body with a numbed brain and sick soul. He understood dully that they must return to their village, but that first they would have one last visit at the encampment. He rose only because the others did, and started out of the grove.

They found and traveled the trail to the Apache encampment. It was a bold move and, under a lesser chief than Mangus Coloradus, might have been disastrous. But the Mimbreno chief had rightly decided that Mexicans gauged Apache hearts by their own. If such a disaster had stricken Mexicans, the survivors would never have dared show themselves on the trail. Neither would they have visited the scene of the ma.s.sacre.

When the angry and grief-stricken Apaches reached the encampment, they found that the _rurales_ had left. The moon was merciful. The crumpled figures that lay all about seemed like so many sleeping persons.

Geronimo sought the wickiup where he had left his family.

He stopped suddenly. Alope lay full length before him, head turned and cheek resting on her right hand. Her long black hair tumbled at her side. Many times had Geronimo watched her sleep in just such a fashion, and now she seemed asleep. But she did not wake.