Geronimo (Part 2)

But a great tragedy was to strike the peduncle tribe of the Apaches, which would send them on the war path for many moons. Now it was the custom for the Apaches in certain months to take their buffalo skins and their hides and journey to the border towns to trade these things for food and provisions. So it was that Mangus with 80 warriors and their wives and their children set out for the town of Casas Grandes over the border in the country of Mexico. With Goklia went his mother, Juana, his wife, Alopa, and their three small ones. The families remained in a camp outside Casas Grandes, the old ones, the wives and the children, while Mangus and his warriors rode into the town to trade. It must be remembered that the Mexicans and the Indian nations were no longer at war. But they were Mexican soldiers in the fort at Casas Grandes, who remembered that their government still offered a reward for the scalp of an Indian. Man, woman, or child. So it was that as the warriors of Mangus traded in the town of Casas Grandes, the soldiers silently moved into the camp of the Apaches with drawn bayonets. Great would be their reward this day. When Mangus and his warriors returned to the camp, they found their people dead. The old ones, the wives, the children, none had been spared. Great was their rage and sorrow. And when they had carried their dead back to the camp at Warm Springs and mourned for them, then to the camp of Cochiche rode Goklia to tell him of Mangus' plan for vengeance. Ten lives, a hundred, for each one they had lost. Then came Cochiche and his two hundred warriors to the camp of Mangus. And came also Woa, chief of the Mescalero tribe and his graves. When all was ready, the Apaches rode toward the border. Then, with their weapons, they slipped silently through the foothills until they came to the edge of Casas Grandes. All night they lay hidden and waited. At sunrise, the Mexican soldiers came from the fort of Llanos. And then did Goklia raise his spear and call out. From their hiding places rode hundreds of graves and raced with Goklia into the town. With knives and arrows and spears, they fought the soldiers. And when their weapons were gone, they fought with their hands. For two hours, the battle raged. And with the thoughts of his dead, fresh in his memory, fought Goklia like one filled with madness. Seizing the saber of a fallen soldier, he slashed his way through the enemy until they ran in fear from this Apache warrior with madness in his eyes. And as they ran, a word of warning was shouted from their lips to warn the others. So was the vengeance of the Apaches satisfied. And so was born the fiercest warrior of the Apaches, Geronimo, a legend which would be hated and feared, admired and respected. Then, for a time, did the Apaches continue their war on the white man until the soldiers who had been sent to protect the white men of the Arizona territory from the Indians abandoned their forts and set out for the land to the east. For a great war had begun there, a war in which white man killed white man, brother slew brother. It was the war which the white man called the War Between the States. With the white man gone, peace again rode the territory of Arizona. But when the war between the states was ended, again came the white man, more than before. And hatred was on both sides. But the hatred of Geronimo was the strongest. And when the chief, Mangus Colorados, was slain as he again spoke of peace, the hatred of Geronimo grew stronger yet. A hundred of the white man's ranches were destroyed to pay for Mangus' life. And now fought Geronimo and Cochise together. Geronimo fought to fulfill a promise he had made to himself in the town of Casas Grandes. We will fight until the white man is no more. But for Cochise, there was another reason to fight. He fought only until peace would at last be made with the white man. And when the time came for the Apache chiefs to sit in council with agents for the great white father in Washington, it was Cochise who faced the chiefs and warriors of the Apache tribes, and again spoke of peace. But Geronimo and his 50 warriors still rode the war path. New settlers came to the Arizona territory, and resentment among them grew as they looked about the rich land which belonged to the Indians. In time, their resentment grew until it echoed in the ears of the great white father, who sent word to the Arizona territory to move the Chiricahua Apaches of Cochise to San Carlos. For now, their land was to belong to the white man. Then a plan was formed in the mind of Geronimo. He would surrender himself and his warriors to the American soldiers at San Carlos. And with the soldiers no longer in pursuit, he could speak with the young braves at San Carlos and put into their minds doubts about promises of the white man. But many of the young braves had learned to live the peaceful ways of the white man, and only 50 heeded the words of Geronimo. Then came the day when Geronimo was set out in all haste for the protection of the hills of the Mother Mountains to the south of the border. But again the American soldiers followed, and this time they had sworn an oath to see an end to Geronimo. For six moons they followed Geronimo from hiding place to hiding place until at last in the summer days of the year 1887, Geronimo, he who had seen 58 winters, tired of battle and wished to speak of peace. So it was that mighty warriors of the Apaches sat in council with the white man's General Miles. I wait to hear your words, Geronimo. It is time to leave the warpath, but first we must hear terms of white man. We make no terms with you. You mistrust us. We will not trust you. We have trusted white man's words before, and they have brought us death. And have you not brought death upon yourself? Have you not burned and stolen and killed? And what of the white man? What of his treachery and his cruelty? Listen to me, Geronimo. There have been men of evil and cruelty among the white men, men of whom we are ashamed, men who have been punished for what they have done. I'm certain there have been such men among your Indian tribes, but what has happened we wish to forget. Now we would make all white men and men of all Indian nations brothers. Here, take my hand as a sign of peace, Geronimo. Let us put an end to hatred between us. It is done. We will lay down our arms. So was ended the wars of the Apache warrior, Geronimo. With the passing of many moons, he accepted the peace of the white man, and it was good. As he lived out his days, which numbered 18 years, he remembered all that had gone before, the warriors who had followed him, Nolge, his teacher, his friends, Ani and Kunya, his mother, Juana, Elopa and the children, and Cochise, who first spoke to him of peace with the white man. He remembered, and the hatred was gone from his heart. So ends the legend of Gokula, he who yawns, the mighty warrior of the Apaches, whom the soldiers of Mexico had named Geronimo.