The Story of Geronimo - Cover

The Story of Geronimo

Copyright© 2025 by Jim Kjelgaard

Chapter 16: Hunted Like Wolves

Geronimo galloped wildly through the black night. Naiche rode beside him. Ten of the eighteen warriors who remained with Geronimo followed.

Geronimo turned his head. He saw light from the burning buildings of the Arizona ranch that he and his warriors had just raided, reflected in the sky. The Apaches had taken fresh horses. But the four men who had been at the ranch had fled after firing a few shots.

Presently Geronimo pulled in his horse to a trot. The rest slowed. Naiche drew in nearer to his chief.

“I wish that the white men had stayed to fight,” he said.

“I too,” said Geronimo, “but the white men are not fools. They remain great liars. The last time, I raided in Arizona with but six men, and Kieta deserted to return to San Carlos. But the white men said we had two hundred warriors. Loco, who remains on the reservation, sent me a messenger, asking to know where we found such strength.”

Naiche asked anxiously, “Was that the whole message?”

“There was no more,” Geronimo said.

Said Naiche, “Then I am sad. My wife and children are in Arizona. My relatives are there. I am sorely in need of news of them. Why does Chihuahua send me no word? He returned to the reservation the second time Chief Gray Wolf came to us and asked us to come in.”

“There is no knowing what happened to Chihuahua,” Geronimo said. “Chief Gray Wolf has gone from Arizona, and the Apaches will never see him again.”

General Crook had indeed made a second journey to Mexico, and again he met the runaway Apaches and tried to persuade them to come back to the reservation. Chihuahua and his followers had returned. Mangas and two or three others had fled deeper into Mexico, but Geronimo and Naiche had promised to return. At the last minute they, with eighteen other men and nineteen women and children, had changed their minds and fled back into the Sierra Madres.

General Crook had been sharply rebuked by his commander for letting Geronimo escape. So he had asked to be relieved of duty in Arizona and sent back to Texas. His wish was granted, and a general named Miles had come to Arizona to take his place.

General Miles had five thousand soldiers at his command, and their principal duty was to capture Geronimo. A large number of Mexican rurales and police were afield for the same purpose. Besides these, there were many ranchers, cowboys, miners, and townsmen who would gladly do anything they could to put an end to Geronimo and his followers. There were certainly at least ten thousand people actively plotting the downfall of this one Apache chief.

And not all of them together had come near to succeeding.

By special arrangement with Mexico, American troops were permitted to range south of the border, and there had been several fights between them and Geronimo’s band. Some American soldiers had been killed or wounded, and the Mexicans had suffered too. But Geronimo had not lost a single warrior. Not one of his followers had even been wounded. Yet the Apache chief was discouraged.

He swayed in the saddle, and bright lights flashed before his eyes. He put a hand in front of his eyes to shut out the lights.

“Are you ill?” Naiche asked in alarm.

“I am tired,” said Geronimo.

Naiche said, “We may stop and rest.”

“I speak not of body weariness,” Geronimo said. “My spirit is tired.”

“I understand,” said Naiche. “We have fought for a very long while. We have been driven from our camps and our cooking fires. Seven times in fifteen months we lost all our horses and had to steal more. We know not when we will have to fight many soldiers. The spirits of all of us are tired, but we dare not surrender.”

“We dare not,” Geronimo agreed. “Chief Gray Wolf is gone. Captain Crawford is dead. Lieutenant Gatewood is gone. There is not one white man among all who pursue us whom we may trust. Almost I wish that I had gone in with Chief Gray Wolf.”

“I too,” Naiche murmured.

They halted at daylight in a rockbound little canyon. Horses that had become both weary and thirsty stood with heads raised and nostrils flared. They smelled water, for there was a water hole ahead. But the warriors tied their mounts and waited.

 
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