_Duel by Stallion_
Geronimo crawled up the hill so carefully that no stalk of grass moved,
and no bush quivered. A pair of crested quail, feeding on insects in the
grass, merely glanced up when he passed and went on feeding. Geronimo
reached the top of the hill and crouched down in the grass.
Beyond were more hills, the near ones low, rocky, and given more to
shrubs and grass than to trees. Geronimo's eyes strayed across the
Arizona landscape to the east. There lay No-doyohn Canyon, where
Geronimo had been born in 1829, just twelve years earlier. There his
father had died when Geronimo was five years old. In the far distance
beyond the canyon, tall, pine-clad mountains rose.
Geronimo looked down the slope on a wickiup. This Apache house was built
of poles thrust into the ground, with deer skin walls and a smoke hole
in the center of the roof. It was the home of Delgadito, a mighty chief
among the Mimbreno Apaches, the tribe to which Geronimo belonged.
Delgadito was so mighty that only the great chief, Mangus Coloradus
himself, outranked him.
Delgadito owned many horses. Most of them grazed by day in pastures far
from the village. But his black war stallion, his nimble-footed gray
hunting horse, and the mare that his wife rode were only absent from
their picket ropes when a rider was using them.
[Illustration]
Now the gray hunting horse was gone, which meant that Delgadito was out
after deer. But the mare and the stallion were still there. Geronimo
had come to steal the war horse. This, however, was not the time to do
it.
The mare's presence proved that Delgadito's wife was home. If she saw
Geronimo stealing the war horse she would tell her husband. The
punishment sure to follow would be harsh and long remembered. Delgadito
knew how to use a switch on headstrong boys. Geronimo crouched in his
hiding place, waiting.
Soon Delgadito's wife came from the wickiup, mounted her mare, and rode
away. Geronimo rose and walked swiftly down the hill.
The stallion raised its head and watched with eyes that were fearless
and questioning. Geronimo grasped the buckskin tie rope, and was drawing
the horse to him when--
"You leave my uncle's war horse alone!"
A girl had come from the wickiup. Geronimo was so interested in the
horse that he did not even know she was near until she spoke. Her name
was Alope, and she was Delgadito's niece. Geronimo thought she was so
lovely that the most dazzling maidens of the Mimbreno or any other tribe
were drab beside her. When grown, such a girl would be too good for any
warrior. Only a chief would be worthy to have her as his wife.