_From Copyright Photograph 1906 by E.S. Curtis_
Nabakelti yielded without hesitation to the demands of the soldiers, and
forthwith rode up to headquarters. Everything seemed very quiet. There was
no demonstration against the soldiers, who stacked their arms and unloaded
the pack-trains. The mules were hobbled and turned loose, and the cavalry
horses tethered and fed.
While this apparently peaceful condition prevailed, a brother of the
medicine-man, angered because of the arrest, dashed into camp on a pony
and shot and killed the captain in command. Instantly, hardly realizing
whence the shot had come, one of the troopers struck Nabakelti on the head
with a cudgel, killing him. Assured that a fight was imminent, the
soldiers receded to higher ground, a short distance back, where they
hurriedly made preparations for defence.
On learning that Nabakelti had been killed, and deeming the soldiers
wholly to blame, a small party of Apache attacked the troopers while
retreating to the higher ground. Six of the soldiers were killed, the
mules stampeded, and the provisions burned, all within a short space of
time. The hostiles made their escape, practically all of them leaving the
valley.
The Government probably never lost money faster in an Indian campaign than
it did as a result of its interference with Nabakelti's harmless medicine
craze. Had he been left alone his inevitable failure, already at hand, to
bring the dead to life would have lost him his following, and in all
probability his ill-success would have cost his life at the hands of one
of his tribesmen. As it was, the hostilities that followed extended over
several months, costing many lives and a vast sum of money.