"They shall not escape me this time," said Perez, as he gave the command to resume the march in pursuit of the illusive enemy.
A short distance from Crawford's camp Geronimo halted his band and sent Shoz-Dijiji ahead to arrange a meeting between Geronimo and Crawford for the purpose of ratifying the understanding that Shoz-Dijiji and the officer had arrived at earlier in the day.
With a white rag fastened to the muzzle of his rifle the Black Bear approached the camp of the Scouts and, following the instructions of Crawford to his men, was permitted to enter. Every man of Crawford's command Shoz-Dijiji knew personally. With many of them he had played as a boy; and with most of them he had gone upon the war trail, fighting shoulder to shoulder with them against both Mexicans and pindah-lickoyee; but today he passed among them with his head high, as one might pass among strangers and enemies.
Crawford, waiting to receive him, could not but admire the silent contempt of the tall young war chief for those of his own race whom he must consider nothing short of traitors; and in his heart the courageous cavalry officer found respect and understanding for this other courageous soldier of an alien race.
"I am glad that you have come, Shoz-Dijiji," he said. "You bring word from Geronimo? He will go with me to General Crook?"
"Geronimo wishes to come and make talk with you," replied the Black Bear. "He wishes his own ears to hear the words you spoke to Shoz-Dijiji this morning."
"Good!" said Crawford. "Let Geronimo--" His words were cut short by a fusilade of shots from the direction of the renegades' position.
Crawford snatched his pistol from its holster and covered Shoz-Dijiji.
"So that is the word Geronimo sends?" he exclaimed. "Treachery!"
The Apache wheeled about and looked in the direction of his people. The scouts were hastily preparing to meet an attack. Every eye was on the renegades--in every mind was the same thought that Crawford had voiced--treachery!
Shoz-Dijiji pointed. "No!", he cried. "Look! It is not the warriors of Geronimo. Their backs are toward us. They are firing in the other direction. They are being attacked from the south. There! See! Mexican soldiers!"
The renegades, firing as they came, were falling back upon the scouts' camp; and, following them, there now came into full view a company of Mexican regulars.
"For God's sake, stop firing!" cried Crawford. "These are United States troops."
Captain Santa Anna Perez saw before him only Apaches. It is true that some of them wore portions of the uniform of the soldiers of a sister republic; but Captain Santa Anna Perez had fought Apaches for years, and he well knew that they were shrewd enough to take advantage of any form of deception of which they could avail themselves, and he thought this but a ruse.
Two of his officers lay dead and two privates, while several others were wounded, and now the Apaches in uniform, as well as those who were not, were firing upon him. How was he to know the truth? What was he to do? One of his sbordinates ran to his side. "There has been a terrible mistake!" he cried."Those are Crawford's scouts --I recognize the captain. In the name of God, give the command to cease firing!"
Perez acted immediately upon the advice of his lieutenant, but the tragic blunder had not as yet taken its full toll of life. In the front line a young Mexican soldier knelt with his carbine. Perhaps he was excited. Perhaps he did not hear the loudly shouted command of his captain. No one will ever know why he did the thing he did.
The others on both sides had ceased firing when this youth raised his carbine to his shoulder, took careful aim, and fired. Uttering no sound, dead on his feet, Captain Emmet Crawford fell with a bullet in his brain.
Shoz-Dijiji, who had been standing beside him, had witnessed the whole occurrence. He threw his own rifle to his shoulder and pressed the trigger. When he lowered the smoking muzzle Crawford had been avenged, and that is why no one will ever know why the Mexican soldier did the thing he did.
With difficulty Perez and Maus quieted their men, and it was with equal difficulty that Geronimo held his renegades in check. They were gathered in a little knot to one side, and Shoz-Dijiji had joined them.
"It was a ruse to trap us!" cried a brave. "They intended to get us between them and kill us all."
"Do not talk like a child,'t exclaimed Shoz-Dijiji. "Not one of us has been killed or wounded, while they have lost several on each side. The Mexicans made a mistake. They did not know Crawford's scouts were near, nor did Crawford know that the Mexican soldiers were approaching."
The brave grunted. "Look," he said, pointing; "the war chiefs of the Mexicans and the pindah-lickoyee are holding a council. If they are not plotting against us why do they not invite our chiefs to the council? It is not I who am a child but Shoz-Dijiji, if he trusts the pindah-lickoyee or the Mexicans."
"Perhaps they make bad talk about us," said Geronimo, suspiciously. "Maus does not like me; and, with Crawford dead, there is no friend among them that I may trust. The Mexicans I have never trusted."
"Nor does Shoz-Dijiji trust them," said the Black Bear. "The battle they just fought was a mistake. That, I say again; but it does not mean that I trust them. Perhaps they are plotting against us now; for Crawford is dead."
"Maus and the Mexican could combine forces against us," suggested Geronimo, nervously. "Both the Mexicans and pindah-lickoyee have tricked us before. They would not hesitate to do it again. We are few, they are many--they could wipe us out, and there would be none left to say that it happened through treachery."
"Let us attack them first," suggested a warrior. "They are off their guard. We could kill many of them and the rest would run away. Come!"
"No!" cried Geronimo. "Our women are with us. We are very few. All would be killed. Let us withdraw and wait. Perhaps we shall have a better chance later. Only fools attack when they know they cannot win. Perhaps Nan-tan-des-la-par-en will come and we shall make peace. That will be better. I am tired of fighting."
"Let us go away for a while, at least until the Mexicans have left," counseled Shoz-Dijiji. "Then, perhaps, we can make terms with Maus. If not we can pick our own time and place to fight."
"That is good talk," said Geronimo. "Come! We shall move away slowly."
Maus and Perez, engaged in arranging terms for the removal of Crawford's body and exchanging notes that would relieve one another of responsibility for the tragic incident of the battle between the troops of friendly nations, paid little attention to the renegades, and once again Geronimo slipped through the fingers of his would-be captors, and as Maus' and Perez' commands marched away together toward Nacori the scouts of the old war chief watched them depart and carried the word to Geronimo.
"They have marched away together--the Mexicans and the pindah-lickoyee?" demanded Geronimo. "That is bad. They are planning to join forces against us. They will return, but they will not find us here."
Again the renegades changed camp; this time to a still more remote and inaccessible position. The days ran into weeks, the weeks to months. The band scattered, scouting and hunting. At all times Geronimo knew the location of Maus' command; and when he became reasonably convinced that Maus was waiting for the arrival of Crook and was not planning a hostile move against the renegades he made no further attempt to conceal his location from the white officer, but he did not relax his vigilance.
It was late in March. Geronimo, Shoz-Dijiji, Gian-nah-tah, and several others were squatting in the shade of a sycamore, smoking and chatting, when two Apaches entered the camp and approached them. One was one of Geronimo's own scouts, the other wore the red head-band of a government scout. When the two halted before Geronimo the war chief arose.