The Story of Geronimo
Copyright© 2025 by Jim Kjelgaard
Chapter 6: Revenge
All fires in the camp near the Bavispe River had been extinguished before sundown. Naiche, the young, tall, courageous son of Cochise, sat in the darkness with Geronimo. Geronimo spoke.
“An autumn, a winter, and a spring have been born and died since Mangus Coloradus sent me as his spokesman to ask the help of the Chiricahuas and the Nedni.”
“I well remember your visit,” Naiche said. “When you spoke, your words were fire that burned into my very heart. As I listened I knew that, if no other Chiricahua would follow you to Mexico and help avenge the massacre of your people, Naiche would.”
“Soon the battle,” Geronimo said.
“Soon the battle,” Naiche echoed. “And at last I shall know.”
“What shall you know?”
“Why so mighty a warrior as Geronimo, who owns many fine rifles, goes to fight Mexicans armed with a shotgun, a pouch of beads, a knife, and a lance.”
Geronimo stared moodily into the darkness. Since fleeing from the encampment he had lived only to go back to Kas-Kai-Ya. But much time had been needed to plan an expedition large enough to attack the rurales there.
New weapons had been fashioned. Countless messages had been exchanged by Mangus Coloradus, Cochise, and Whoa, the three chiefs. The women and children of all three tribes had been taken to mountain retreats whose only approaches consisted of narrow canyons that a few warriors might defend. Then those retreats had been stocked with ample provisions and fuel.
Planning the campaign had been no easy task. Every warrior burned to go into Mexico and fight the rurales. Nobody wanted to stay home to guard the women and children. Nor would any warrior serve under any leader except his own chief.
Finally each of the three leaders had chosen his picked men. Mangus Coloradus included among his warriors all who had been at Kas-Kai-Ya. Now, with two hundred and fifty braves under Cochise, two hundred under Mangus Coloradus, and a hundred and fifty led by Whoa, they were well into Mexico.
Each of the three divisions kept apart from the others, but not so far apart that they would be unable to join forces when it was time for a battle. Naiche preferred to travel with the Mimbreno Apaches rather than with the Chiricahuas led by his father, Cochise. This was because of his great liking for Geronimo.
Geronimo said finally, “I took the beads from the Mexicans. Now I return them. That is only justice.”
“Only justice,” Naiche agreed. An owl hooted three times, and Naiche said, “The signal. A scout returns.”
Geronimo said, “Come.”
They rose and made their way to the camp of Mangus Coloradus. A short time later, dressed as a Mexican and driving a burro, Pedro Gonzalez loomed up in the darkness. He had been to Mexico in advance of the warriors to gather such information as he could.
Mangus Coloradus rose to meet him. “What saw you?” he asked.
“I saw rurales,” Pedro said. “I even talked with them, since they thought me a Mexican. There are two companies of foot soldiers and two companies of horse soldiers. Among them are those who attacked us at Kas-Kai-Ya. But they are not now at Kas-Kai-Ya. They are at Arispe, in the Mexican state of Sonora and to the west of Kas-Kai-Ya.”
Geronimo blurted, “Then we go to Arispe!”
“To Arispe!” Naiche echoed.
Mangus Coloradus asked haughtily, “Do warriors decide where the battle shall be fought?”
“I will fight the rurales who killed my wife, my mother, and my children,” Geronimo said stubbornly. “If we must attack the people of Kas-Kai-Ya, that may come afterwards.”
Naiche growled, “I fight beside my friend.”
“We will all go to Arispe,” Mangus Coloradus said. “We will start at once. For in truth we must fight the rurales who massacred our people.”
“I shall tell Cochise,” Naiche said.
Mangus Coloradus said, “Ask Cochise to inform Whoa. Tell both that we join forces before Arispe.”
“I shall inform Whoa,” Naiche promised.
Naiche disappeared in the darkness. The word spread like wind-driven wildfire, and warriors prepared to march. Nobody was mounted. Even with almost a year to make ready, there had not been enough time to capture war horses for everyone. Besides, so great a number of horsemen would be far easier to detect than foot soldiers, so nobody rode.
Geronimo felt in the darkness to make sure his knife was at his belt. In turn he fingered his powder horn, the pouch of beads, his parcel of jerked meat, and his parcel of parched corn.
He hung over his shoulder the blanket that served him as bed by night and clothing by day. Like all the rest of the warriors, he was going into battle wearing as little clothing as possible, and the blanket would be flung aside when the fight started. Taking his lance in his left hand, Geronimo carried his shotgun in his right hand.
Mangus Coloradus said, “Lead on.”
Geronimo strode into the darkness. Partly because he knew Mexico so well, and partly because of his marvelous sense of direction, he had been appointed guide for the entire expedition.
In late afternoon of the third day following, they came before the walled town of Arispe.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.