CHAPTER XII

GERONIMO'S MIGHTIEST BATTLE

After the treachery and massacre of Casa Grande we did not reassemble

for a long while, and when we did we returned to Arizona. We remained in

Arizona for some time, living in San Carlos Reservation, at a place now

called Geronimo. In 1883 we went into Mexico again. We remained in the

mountain ranges of Mexico for about fourteen months, and during this

time we had many skirmishes with Mexican troops. In 1884 we returned to

Arizona to get other Apaches to come with us into Mexico. The Mexicans

were gathering troops in the mountains where we had been ranging, and

their numbers were so much greater than ours that we could not hope to

fight them successfully, and we were tired of being chased about from

place to place.

In Arizona we had trouble with the United States soldiers (explained in

next chapter) and returned to Mexico.

We had lost about fifteen warriors in Arizona, and had gained no

recruits. With our reduced number we camped in the mountains north of

Arispe. Mexican troops were seen by our scouts in several directions.

The United States troops were coming down from the north. We were well

armed with guns and supplied with ammunition, but we did not care to be

surrounded by the troops of two governments, so we started to move our

camp southward.

One night we made camp some distance from the mountains by a stream.

There was not much water in the stream, but a deep channel was worn

through the prairie and small trees were beginning to grow here and

there along the bank of this stream.

In those days we never camped without placing scouts, for we knew that

we were liable to be attacked at any time. The next morning just at

daybreak our scouts came in, aroused the camp, and notified us that

Mexican troops were approaching. Within five minutes the Mexicans began

firing on us. We took to the ditches made by the stream, and had the

women and children busy digging these deeper. I gave strict orders to

waste no ammunition and keep under cover. We killed many Mexicans that

day and in turn lost heavily, for the fight lasted all day. Frequently

troops would charge at one point, be repulsed, then rally and charge at

another point.

About noon we began to hear them speaking my name with curses. In the

afternoon the general came on the field and the fighting became more

furious. I gave orders to my warriors to try to kill all the Mexican

officers. About three o'clock the general called all the officers

together at the right side of the field. The place where they assembled

was not very far from the main stream, and a little ditch ran out close

to where the officers stood. Cautiously I crawled out this ditch very

close to where the council was being held. The general was an old

warrior. The wind was blowing in my direction, so that I could hear all

he said, and I[23] understood most of it. This is about what he told

them: "Officers, yonder in those ditches is the red devil Geronimo and

his hated band. This must be his last day. Ride on him from both sides

of the ditches; kill men, women, and children; take no prisoners; dead

Indians are what we want. Do not spare your own men; exterminate this

band at any cost; I will post the wounded to shoot all deserters; go

back to your companies and advance."

Just as the command to go forward was given I took deliberate aim at the

general and he fell. In an instant the ground around me was riddled with

bullets, but I was untouched. The Apaches had seen. From all along the

ditches arose the fierce war-cry of my people. The columns wavered an

instant and then swept on; they did not retreat until our fire had

destroyed the front ranks.

[Illustration: LONE WOLF Chief of Kiowas

GERONIMO Apache War Chief]

After this their fighting was not so fierce, yet they continued to rally

and readvance until dark. They also continued to speak my name with

threats and curses. That night before the firing had ceased a dozen

Indians had crawled out of the ditches and set fire to the long prairie

grass behind the Mexican troops. During the confusion that followed we

escaped to the mountains.

This was the last battle that I ever fought with Mexicans. United States

troops were trailing us continually from this time until the treaty was

made with General Miles in Skeleton Cañon.

During my many wars with the Mexicans I received eight wounds, as

follows: shot in the right leg above the knee, and still carry the

bullet; shot through the left forearm; wounded in the right leg below

the knee with a saber; wounded on top of the head with the butt of a

musket; shot just below the outer corner of the left eye; shot in left

side; shot in the back. I have killed many Mexicans; I do not know how

many, for frequently I did not count them. Some of them were not worth

counting.

It has been a long time since then, but still I have no love for the

Mexicans. With me they were always treacherous and malicious. I am old

now and shall never go on the warpath again, but if I were young, and

followed the warpath, it would lead into Old Mexico.

FOOTNOTE:

[23] Geronimo has a fair knowledge of the Spanish language.

PART III

THE WHITE MEN

CHAPTER XIII

COMING OF THE WHITE MEN

About the time of the massacre of "Kaskiyeh" (1858) we heard that some

white men were measuring land to the south of us. In company with a

number of other warriors I went to visit them. We could not understand

them very well, for we had no interpreter, but we made a treaty with

them by shaking hands and promising to be brothers. Then we made our

camp near their camp, and they came to trade with us. We gave them

buckskin, blankets, and ponies in exchange for shirts and provisions. We

also brought them game, for which they gave us some money. We did not

know the value of this money, but we kept it and later learned from the

Navajo Indians that it was very valuable.

Every day they measured land with curious instruments and put down

marks which we could not understand. They were good men, and we were

sorry when they had gone on into the west. They were not soldiers. These

were the first white men I ever saw.

About ten years later some more white men came. These were all warriors.

They made their camp on the Gila River south of Hot Springs. At first

they were friendly and we did not dislike them, but they were not as

good as those who came first.

After about a year some trouble arose between them and the Indians, and

I took the warpath as a warrior, not as a chief.[24] I had not been

wronged, but some of my people had been, and I fought with my tribe; for

the soldiers and not the Indians were at fault.

Not long after this some of the officers of the United States troops

invited our leaders to hold a conference at Apache Pass (Fort Bowie).

Just before noon the Indians were shown into a tent and told that they

would be given something to eat. When in the tent they were[25] attacked

by soldiers. Our chief, Mangus-Colorado, and several other warriors, by

cutting through the tent, escaped; but most of the warriors were killed

or captured. Among the Bedonkohe Apaches killed at this time were Sanza,

Kladetahe, Niyokahe, and Gopi. After this treachery the Indians went

back to the mountains and left the fort entirely alone. I do not think

that the agent had anything to do with planning this, for he had always

treated us well. I believe it was entirely planned by the soldiers.

From[26] the very first the soldiers sent out to our western country,

and the officers in charge of them, did not hesitate to wrong the

Indians. They never explained to the Government when an Indian was

wronged, but always reported the misdeeds of the Indians. Much that was

done by mean white men was reported at Washington as the deeds of my

people.

The Indians always tried to live peaceably with the white soldiers and

settlers. One day during the time that the soldiers were stationed at

Apache Pass I made a treaty with the post. This was done by shaking

hands and promising to be brothers. Cochise and Mangus-Colorado did

likewise. I do not know the name of the officer in command, but this

was the first regiment that ever came to Apache Pass. This treaty was

made about a year before we were attacked in a tent, as above related.

In a few days after the attack at Apache Pass we organized in the

mountains and returned to fight the soldiers. There were two tribes--the

Bedonkohe and the Chokonen Apaches, both commanded by Cochise. After a

few days' skirmishing we attacked a freight train that was coming in

with supplies for the Fort. We killed some of the men and captured the

others. These prisoners our chief offered to trade for the Indians whom

the soldiers had captured at the massacre in the tent. This the officers

refused, so we killed our prisoners, disbanded, and went into hiding in

the mountains. Of those who took part in this affair I am the only one

now living.

In a few days troops were sent out to search for us, but as we were

disbanded, it was, of course, impossible for them to locate any hostile

camp. During the time they were searching for us many of our warriors

(who were thought by the soldiers to be peaceable Indians) talked to the

officers and men, advising them where they might find the camp they

sought, and while they searched we watched them from our hiding places

and laughed at their failures.

After this trouble all of the Indians agreed not to be friendly with the

white men any more. There was no general engagement, but a long struggle

followed. Sometimes we attacked the white men--sometimes they attacked

us. First a few Indians would be killed and then a few soldiers. I think

the killing was about equal on each side. The number killed in these

troubles did not amount to much, but this treachery on the part of the

soldiers had angered the Indians and revived memories of other wrongs,

so that we never again trusted the United States troops.

[Illustration: QUANNA PARKER

Chief of Comanche Indians]

FOOTNOTES:

[24] As a tribe they would fight under their tribal chief,

Mangus-Colorado. If several tribes had been called out, the war chief,

Geronimo, would have commanded.

[25] Regarding this attack, Mr. L. C. Hughes, editor of _The Star_,

Tucson, Arizona, to whom I was referred by General Miles, writes as

follows:

"It appears that Cochise and his tribe had been on the warpath for some

time and he with a number of subordinate chiefs was brought into the

military camp at Bowie under the promise that a treaty of peace was to

be held, when they were taken into a large tent where handcuffs were put

upon them. Cochise, seeing this, cut his way through the tent and fled

to the mountains; and in less than six hours had surrounded the camp

with from three to five hundred warriors; but the soldiers refused to

make fight."

[26] This sweeping statement is more general than we are willing to

concede, yet it may be more nearly true than our own accounts.

CHAPTER XIV

GREATEST OF WRONGS

Perhaps the greatest wrong ever done to the Indians was the treatment

received by our tribe from the United States troops about 1863. The

chief of our tribe, Mangus-Colorado, went to make a treaty of peace for

our people with the white settlement at Apache Tejo, New Mexico. It had

been reported to us that the white men in this settlement were more

friendly and more reliable than those in Arizona, that they would live

up to their treaties and would not wrong the Indians.

Mangus-Colorado, with three other warriors, went to Apache Tejo and held

a council with these citizens and soldiers. They told him that if he

would come with his tribe and live near them, they would issue to him,

from the Government, blankets, flour, provisions, beef, and all manner

of supplies. Our chief promised to return to Apache Tejo within two

weeks. When he came back to our settlement he assembled the whole tribe

in council. I did not believe that the people at Apache Tejo would do as

they said and therefore I opposed the plan, but it was decided that with

part of the tribe Mangus-Colorado should return to Apache Tejo and

receive an issue of rations and supplies. If they were as represented,

and if these white men would keep the treaty faithfully, the remainder

of the tribe would join him and we would make our permanent home at

Apache Tejo. I was to remain in charge of that portion of the tribe

which stayed in Arizona. We gave almost all of our arms and ammunition

to the party going to Apache Tejo, so that in case there should be

treachery they would be prepared for any surprise. Mangus-Colorado and

about half of our people went to New Mexico, happy that now they had

found white men who would be kind to them, and with whom they could

live in peace and plenty.

No word ever came to us from them. From other sources, however, we heard

that they had been treacherously[27] captured and slain. In this dilemma

we did not know just exactly what to do, but fearing that the troops who

had captured them would attack us, we retreated into the mountains near

Apache Pass.

During the weeks that followed the departure of our people we had been

in suspense, and failing to provide more supplies, had exhausted all of

our store of provisions. This was another reason for moving camp. On

this retreat, while passing through the mountains, we discovered four

men with a herd of cattle. Two of the men were in front in a buggy and

two were behind on horseback. We killed all four, but did not scalp

them; they were not warriors. We drove the cattle back into the

mountains, made a camp, and began to kill the cattle and pack the meat.

Before we had finished this work we were surprised and attacked by

United States troops, who killed in all seven Indians--one warrior,

three women, and three children. The Government troops were mounted and

so were we, but we were poorly armed, having given most of our weapons

to the division of our tribe that had gone to Apache Tejo, so we fought

mainly with spears, bows, and arrows. At first I had a spear, a bow, and

a few arrows; but in a short time my spear and all my arrows were gone.

Once I was surrounded, but by dodging from side to side of my horse as

he ran I escaped. It was necessary during this fight for many of the

warriors to leave their horses and escape on foot. But my horse was

trained to come at call, and as soon as I reached a safe place, if not

too closely pursued, I would call him to me.[28] During this fight we

scattered in all directions and two days later reassembled at our

appointed place of rendezvous, about fifty miles from the scene of this

battle.

About ten days later the same United States troops attacked our new camp

at sunrise. The fight lasted all day, but our arrows and spears were all

gone before ten o'clock, and for the remainder of the day we had only

rocks and clubs with which to fight. We could do little damage with

these weapons, and at night we moved our camp about four miles back into

the mountains where it would be hard for the cavalry to follow us. The

next day our scouts, who had been left behind to observe the movements

of the soldiers, returned, saying that the troops had gone back toward

San Carlos Reservation.

A few days after this we were again attacked by another company of

United States troops. Just before this fight we had been joined by a

band of Chokonen Indians under Cochise, who took command of both

divisions. We were repulsed, and decided to disband.

After we had disbanded our tribe the Bedonkohe Apaches reassembled near

their old camp vainly waiting for the return of Mangus-Colorado and our

kinsmen. No tidings came save that they had all been treacherously

slain.[29] Then a council was held, and as it was believed that

Mangus-Colorado was dead, I was elected Tribal Chief.

For a long time we had no trouble with anyone. It was more than a year

after I had been made Tribal Chief that United States troops surprised

and attacked our camp. They killed seven children, five women, and four

warriors, captured all our supplies, blankets, horses, and clothing,

and destroyed our tepees. We had nothing left; winter was beginning, and

it was the coldest winter I ever knew. After the soldiers withdrew I

took three warriors and trailed them. Their trail led back toward San

Carlos.

FOOTNOTES:

[27] General Miles telegraphed from Whipple Barracks, Arizona, Sept. 24,

1886, relative to the surrender of the Apaches. Among other things he

said: "Mangus-Colorado had years ago been foully murdered after he had

surrendered."

[28] Geronimo often calls his horses to him in Fort Sill Reservation. He

gives only one shrill note and they run to him at full speed.

[29] Regarding the killing of Mangus-Colorado, L. C. Hughes of the

Tucson, Ariz., _Star_, writes as follows: "It was early in the year '63,

when General West and his troops were camped near Membras, that he sent

Jack Swilling, a scout, to bring in Mangus, who had been on the warpath

ever since the time of the incident with Cochise at Bowie. The old chief

was always for peace, and gladly accepted the proffer; when he appeared

at the camp General West ordered him put into the guardhouse, in which

there was only a small opening in the rear and but one small window. As

the old chief entered he said: 'This is my end. I shall never again hunt

over the mountains and through the valleys of my people.' He felt that

he was to be assassinated. The guards were given orders to shoot him if

he attempted to escape. He lay down and tried to sleep, but during the

night, someone threw a large stone which struck him in the breast. He

sprang up and in his delirium the guards thought he was attempting

escape and several of them shot him; this was the end of Mangus.

"His head was severed from his body by a surgeon, and the brain taken

out and weighed. The head measured larger than that of Daniel Webster,

and the brain was of corresponding weight. The skull was sent to

Washington, and is now on exhibition at the Smithsonian Institution."

CHAPTER XV

REMOVALS

While returning from trailing the Government troops we saw two men, a

Mexican and a white man, and shot them off their horses. With these two

horses we returned and moved our camp. My people were suffering much and

it was deemed advisable to go where we could get more provisions. Game

was scarce in our range then, and since I had been Tribal Chief I had

not asked for rations from the Government, nor did I care to do so, but

we did not wish to starve.

We had heard that Chief Victoria of the Chihenne (Ojo Caliente) Apaches

was holding a council with the white men near Hot Springs in New Mexico,

and that he had plenty of provisions. We had always been on friendly

terms with this tribe, and Victoria was especially kind to my people.

With the help of the two horses we had captured, to carry our sick with

us, we went to Hot Springs. We easily found Victoria and his band, and

they gave us supplies for the winter. We stayed with them for about a

year, and during this stay we had perfect peace. We had not the least

trouble with Mexicans, white men, or Indians. When we had stayed as long

as we should, and had again accumulated some supplies, we decided to

leave Victoria's band. When I told him that we were going to leave he

said that we should have a feast and dance before we separated.

The festivities were held about two miles above Hot Springs, and lasted

for four days. There were about four hundred Indians at this

celebration. I do not think we ever spent a more pleasant time than upon

this occasion. No one ever treated our tribe more kindly than Victoria

and his band. We are still proud to say that he and his people were our

friends.

When I went to Apache Pass (Fort Bowie) I found General Howard[30] in

command, and made a treaty with him. This treaty lasted until long after

General Howard had left our country. He always kept his word with us and

treated us as brothers. We never had so good a friend among the United

States officers as General Howard. We could have lived forever at peace

with him. If there is any pure, honest white man in the United States

army, that man is General Howard. All the Indians respect him, and even

to this day frequently talk of the happy times when General Howard was

in command of our Post. After he went away he placed an agent at Apache

Pass who issued to us from the Government clothing, rations, and

supplies, as General Howard directed. When beef was issued to the

Indians I got twelve steers for my tribe, and Cochise got twelve steers

for his tribe. Rations were issued about once a month, but if we ran out

we only had to ask and we were supplied. Now, as prisoners of war in

this Reservation, we do not get such good rations.[31]

Out on the prairie away from Apache Pass a man kept a store and saloon.

Some time after General Howard went away a band of outlawed Indians

killed this man, and took away many of the supplies from his store. On

the very next day after this some Indians at the Post were drunk on

"tiswin," which they had made from corn. They fought among themselves

and four of them were killed. There had been quarrels and feuds among

them for some time, and after this trouble we deemed it impossible to

keep the different bands together in peace. Therefore we separated, each

leader taking his own band. Some of them went to San Carlos and some to

Old Mexico, but I took my tribe back to Hot Springs and rejoined

Victoria's band.

FOOTNOTES:

[30] General O. O. Howard was not in command, but had been sent by

President Grant, in 1872, to make peace with the Apache Indians. The

general wrote me from Burlington, Vt., under date of June 12, 1906, that

he remembered the treaty, and that he also remembered with much

satisfaction subsequently meeting Geronimo.--EDITOR.

[31] They do not receive full rations now, as they did then.

CHAPTER XVI

IN PRISON AND ON THE WARPATH

Soon after we arrived in New Mexico two companies of scouts were sent

from San Carlos. When they came to Hot Springs they sent word for me and

Victoria to come to town. The messengers did not say what they wanted

with us, but as they seemed friendly we thought they wanted a council,

and rode in to meet the officers. As soon as we arrived in town soldiers

met us, disarmed us, and took us both to headquarters, where we were

tried by court-martial. They asked us only a few questions and then

Victoria was released and I was sentenced to the guardhouse. Scouts

conducted me to the guardhouse and put me in chains. When I asked them

why they did this they said it was because I had left Apache Pass.

I do not think that I ever belonged to those soldiers at Apache Pass,

or that I should have asked them where I might go. Our bands could no

longer live in peace[32] together, and so we had quietly withdrawn,

expecting to live with Victoria's band, where we thought we would not be

molested. They also sentenced seven other Apaches to chains in the

guardhouse.

I do not know why this was done, for these Indians had simply followed

me from Apache Pass to Hot Springs. If it was wrong (and I do not think

it was wrong) for us to go to Hot Springs, I alone was to blame. They

asked the soldiers in charge why they were imprisoned and chained, but

received no answer.

I was kept a prisoner for four months, during which time I was

transferred to San Carlos. Then I think I had another trial, although I

was not present. In fact I do not know that I had another trial, but I

was told that I had, and at any rate I was released.

After this we had no more trouble with the soldiers, but I never felt at

ease any longer at the Post. We were allowed to live above San Carlos at

a place now called Geronimo. A man whom the Indians called "Nick Golee"

was agent at this place. All went well here for a period of two years,

but we were not satisfied.

In the summer of 1883 a rumor was current that the officers were again

planning to imprison our leaders. This rumor served to revive the memory

of all our past wrongs--the massacre in the tent at Apache Pass, the

fate of Mangus-Colorado, and my own unjust imprisonment, which might

easily have been death to me. Just at this time we were told that the

officers wanted us to come up the river above Geronimo to a fort (Fort

Thomas) to hold a council with them. We did not believe that any good

could come of this conference, or that there was any need of it; so we

held a council ourselves, and fearing treachery, decided to leave the

reservation. We thought it more manly to die on the warpath than to be

killed in prison.

There were in all about 250 Indians, chiefly the Bedonkohe and Nedni

Apaches, led by myself and Whoa. We went through Apache Pass and just

west of there had a fight with the United States troops. In this battle

we killed three soldiers and lost none.

We went on toward Old Mexico, but on the second day after this United

States soldiers overtook us about three o'clock in the afternoon and we

fought until dark. The ground where we were attacked was very rough,

which was to our advantage, for the troops were compelled to dismount in

order to fight us. I do not know how many soldiers we killed, but we

lost only one warrior and three children. We had plenty of guns and

ammunition at this time. Many of the guns and much ammunition we had

accumulated while living in the reservation, and the remainder we had

obtained from the White Mountain Apaches when we left the reservation.

Troops did not follow us any longer, so we went south almost to Casa

Grande and camped in the Sierra de Sahuaripa Mountains. We ranged in the

mountains of Old Mexico for about a year, then returned to San Carlos,

taking with us a herd of cattle and horses.

Soon after we arrived at San Carlos the officer in charge, General

Crook, took the horses and cattle away from us. I told him that these

were not white men's cattle, but belonged to us, for we had taken them

from the Mexicans during our wars. I also told him that we did not

intend to kill these animals, but that we wished to keep them and raise

stock on our range. He would not listen to me, but took the stock. I

went up near Fort Apache and General Crook ordered officers, soldiers,

and scouts to see that I was arrested; if I offered resistance they were

instructed to kill me.

This information was brought to me by the Indians. When I learned of

this proposed action I left for Old Mexico, and about four hundred

Indians went with me. They were the Bedonkohe, Chokonen, and Nedni

Apaches. At this time Whoa was dead, and Naiche was the only chief with

me. We went south into Sonora and camped in the mountains. Troops

followed us, but did not attack us until we were camped in the mountains

west of Casa Grande. Here we were attacked by Government Indian scouts.

One boy was killed and nearly all of our women and children were

captured.[33]

After this battle we went south of Casa Grande and made a camp, but

within a few days this camp was attacked by Mexican soldiers. We

skirmished with them all day, killing a few Mexicans, but sustaining no

loss ourselves.

That night we went east into the foothills of the Sierra Madre Mountains

and made another camp. Mexican troops trailed us, and after a few days

attacked our camp again. This time the Mexicans had a very large army,

and we avoided a general engagement. It is senseless to fight when you

cannot hope to win.

That night we held a council of war; our scouts had reported bands of

United States and Mexican troops at many points in the mountains. We

estimated that about two thousand soldiers were ranging these mountains

seeking to capture us.

General Crook had come down into Mexico with the United States troops.

They were camped in the Sierra de Antunez Mountains. Scouts told me that

General Crook wished to see me and I went to his camp. When I arrived

General Crook said to me, "Why did you leave the reservation?" I said:

"You told me that I might live in the reservation the same as white

people lived. One year I raised a crop of corn, and gathered and stored

it, and the next year I put in a crop of oats, and when the crop was

almost ready to harvest, you told your soldiers to put me in prison, and

if I resisted to kill me. If I had been let alone I would now have been

in good circumstances, but instead of that you and the Mexicans are

hunting me with soldiers." He said: "I never gave any such orders; the

troops at Fort Apache, who spread this report, knew that it was untrue."

Then I agreed to go back with him to San Carlos.

It was hard for me to believe him at that time. Now I know that what he

said was untrue,[34] and I firmly believe that he did issue the orders

for me to be put in prison, or to be killed in case I offered

resistance.

FOOTNOTES:

[32] Victoria, chief of the Hot Spring Apaches, met his death in

opposing the forcible removal of his band to a reservation, because

having previously tried and failed he felt it impossible for separate

bands of Apaches to live at peace under such arrangement.

[33] Geronimo's whole family, excepting his eldest son, a warrior, were

captured.

[34] Geronimo's exact words, for which the Editor disclaims any

responsibility.

CHAPTER XVII

THE FINAL STRUGGLE

We started with all our tribe to go with General Crook back to the

United States, but I feared treachery and decided to remain in Mexico.

We were not under any guard at this time. The United States troops

marched in front and the Indians followed, and when we became

suspicious, we turned back. I do not know how far the United States army

went after myself, and some warriors turned back before we were missed,

and I do not care.

I have suffered much from such unjust orders as those of General Crook.

Such acts have caused much distress to my people. I think that General

Crook's death[35] was sent by the Almighty as a punishment for the many

evil deeds he committed.

Soon General Miles was made commander of all the western posts, and

troops trailed us continually. They were led by Captain Lawton, who had

good scouts. The Mexican[36] soldiers also became more active and more

numerous. We had skirmishes almost every day, and so we finally decided

to break up into small bands. With six men and four women I made for the

range of mountains near Hot Springs, New Mexico. We passed many cattle

ranches, but had no trouble with the cowboys. We killed cattle to eat

whenever we were in need of food, but we frequently suffered greatly for

water. At one time we had no water for two days and nights and our

horses almost died from thirst. We ranged in the mountains of New Mexico

for some time, then thinking that perhaps the troops had left Mexico,

we returned. On our return through Old Mexico we attacked every Mexican

found, even if for no other reason than to kill. We believed they had

asked the United States troops to come down to Mexico to fight us.

South of Casa Grande, near a place called by the Indians Gosoda, there

was a road leading out from the town. There was much freighting carried

on by the Mexicans over this road. Where the road ran through a mountain

pass we stayed in hiding, and whenever Mexican freighters passed we

killed them, took what supplies we wanted, and destroyed the remainder.

We were reckless of our lives, because we felt that every man's hand was

against us. If we returned to the reservation we would be put in prison

and killed; if we stayed in Mexico they would continue to send soldiers

to fight us; so we gave no quarter to anyone and asked no favors.

After some time we left Gosoda and soon were reunited with our tribe in

the Sierra de Antunez Mountains.

Contrary to our expectations the United States soldiers had not left the

mountains in Mexico, and were soon trailing us and skirmishing with us

almost every day. Four or five times they surprised our camp. One time

they surprised us about nine o'clock in the morning, and captured all

our horses[37] (nineteen in number) and secured our store of dried

meats. We also lost three Indians in this encounter. About the middle of

the afternoon of the same day we attacked them from the rear as they

were passing through a prairie--killed one soldier, but lost none

ourselves. In this skirmish we recovered all our horses except three

that belonged to me. The three horses that we did not recover were the

best riding horses we had.

Soon after this we made a treaty with the Mexican troops. They told us

that the United States troops were the real cause of these wars, and

agreed not to fight any more with us provided we would return to the

United States. This we agreed to do, and resumed our march, expecting to

try to make a treaty with the United States soldiers and return to

Arizona. There seemed to be no other course to pursue.

Soon after this scouts from Captain Lawton's troops told us that he

wished to make a treaty with us; but I knew that General Miles was the

chief of the American troops, and I decided to treat with him.

We continued to move our camp northward, and the American troops also

moved northward,[38] keeping at no great distance from us, but not

attacking us.

I sent my brother Porico (White Horse) with Mr. George Wratton on to

Fort Bowie to see General Miles, and to tell him that we wished to

return to Arizona; but before these messengers returned I met two Indian

scouts--Kayitah, a Chokonen Apache, and Marteen, a Nedni Apache. They

were serving as scouts for Captain Lawton's troops. They told me that

General Miles had come and had sent them to ask me to meet him. So I

went to the camp of the United States troops to meet General Miles.

When I arrived at their camp I went directly to General Miles and told

him how I had been wronged, and that I wanted to return to the United

States with my people, as we wished to see our families, who had been

captured[39] and taken away from us.

General Miles said to me: "The President of the United States has sent

me to speak to you. He has heard of your trouble with the white men, and

says that if you will agree to a few words of treaty we need have no

more trouble. Geronimo, if you will agree to a few words of treaty all

will be satisfactorily arranged."

[Illustration: GOTEBO War Chief, Kiowa Indians]

So General Miles told me how we could be brothers to each other. We

raised our hands to heaven and said that the treaty was not to be

broken. We took an oath not to do any wrong to each other or to scheme

against each other.

Then he talked with me for a long time and told me what he would do for

me in the future if I would agree to the treaty. I did not greatly

believe General Miles, but because the President of the United States

had sent me word I agreed to make the treaty, and to keep it. Then I

asked General Miles what the treaty would be. General Miles said to

me:[40] "I will take you under Government protection; I will build you a

house; I will fence you much land; I will give you cattle, horses,

mules, and farming implements. You will be furnished with men to work

the farm, for you yourself will not have to work. In the fall I will

send you blankets and clothing so that you will not suffer from cold in

the winter time.

"There is plenty of timber, water, and grass in the land to which I will

send you. You will live with your tribe and with your family. If you

agree to this treaty you shall see your family within five days."

I said to General Miles: "All the officers that have been in charge of

the Indians have talked that way, and it sounds like a story to me; I

hardly believe you."

He said: "This time it is the truth."

I said: "General Miles, I do not know the laws of the white man, nor of

this new country where you are to send me, and I might break their

laws."

He said: "While I live you will not be arrested."

Then I agreed to make the treaty. (Since I have been a prisoner of war I

have been arrested and placed in the guardhouse twice for drinking

whisky.)

We stood between his troopers and my warriors. We placed a large stone

on the blanket before us. Our treaty was made by this stone, and it was

to last until the stone should crumble to dust; so we made the treaty,

and bound each other with an oath.

I do not believe that I have ever violated that treaty; but General

Miles[41] never fulfilled his promises.

When we had made the treaty General Miles said to me: "My brother, you

have in your mind how you are going to kill men, and other thoughts of

war; I want you to put that out of your mind, and change your thoughts

to peace."

Then I agreed and gave up my arms. I said: "I will quit the warpath and

live at peace hereafter."

Then General Miles swept a spot of ground clear with his hand, and said:

"Your past deeds shall be wiped out like this and you will start a new

life."

FOOTNOTES:

[35] These are the exact words of Geronimo. The Editor is not

responsible for this criticism of General Crook.

[36] Governor Torres of Sonora had agreed to coöperate with our troops

in exterminating or capturing this tribe.

[37] Captain Lawton reports officially the same engagement, but makes no

mention of the recapture (by the Apaches) of the horses.

[38] See note page 142.

[39] See page 136.

[40] For terms of treaty see page 154.

[41] The criticisms of General Miles in the foregoing chapter are from

Geronimo, not from the Editor.

CHAPTER XVIII

SURRENDER OF GERONIMO

On February 11, 1887, the Senate passed the following resolution:

"RESOLVED, That the Secretary of War be directed to communicate to the

Senate all dispatches of General Miles referring to the surrender of

Geronimo, and all instructions given to and correspondence with General

Miles in reference to the same." These papers are published in the

Senate Executive Documents, Second Session, 49th Congress, 1886-7,

Volume II, Nos. 111 to 125. For an exhaustive account of the conditions

of Geronimo's surrender the reader is referred to that document, but

this chapter is given to show briefly the terms of surrender, and

corroborate, at least in part, the statements made by Geronimo.

Upon assuming command of the Department of Arizona, General Nelson A.

Miles was directed by the War Department to use most vigorous operations

for the destruction or capture of the hostile Apaches.

The following extracts are from instructions issued April 20th, 1886,

for the information and guidance of troops serving in the southern

portion of Arizona and New Mexico.

"The chief object of the troops will be to capture or destroy any

band of hostile Apache Indians found in this section of country,

and to this end the most vigorous and persistent efforts will be

required of all officers and soldiers until the object is

accomplished."

* * * * *

"A sufficient number of reliable Indians will be used as

auxiliaries to discover any signs of hostile Indians, and as

trailers."

* * * * *

"To avoid any advantage the Indians may have by a relay of horses,

where a troop or squadron commander is near the hostile Indians he

will be justified in dismounting one-half of his command and

selecting the lightest and best riders to make pursuit by the most

vigorous forced marches until the strength of all the animals of

his command shall have been exhausted."

* * * * *

The following telegrams show the efforts of the United States troops and

the coöperation of Mexican troops under Governor Torres:

"HEADQUARTERS DIVISION OF THE PACIFIC,

PRESIDIO OF SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.

July 22, 1886.

"ADJUTANT GENERAL,

Washington, D. C.:

"The following telegram just received from General Miles:

"'Captain Lawton reports, through Colonel Royall, commanding at

Fort Huachuca, that his camp surprised Geronimo's camp on Yongi

River, about 130 miles south and east of Campas, Sonora, or nearly

300 miles south of Mexican boundary, capturing all the Indian

property, including hundreds of pounds of dried meat and nineteen

riding animals. This is the fifth time within three months in which

the Indians have been surprised by the troops. While the results

have not been decisive, yet it has given encouragement to the

troops, and has reduced the numbers and strength of the Indians,

and given them a feeling of insecurity even in the remote and

almost inaccessible mountains of Old Mexico.'

"In absence of division commander.

C. MCKEEVER,

Assistant Adjutant General."

* * * * *

"HEADQUARTERS DIVISION OF THE PACIFIC,

PRESIDIO OF SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.

August 19, 1886.

"ADJUTANT GENERAL,

Washington, D. C.:

"Following received from General Miles, dated 18th:

"'Dispatches to-day from Governor Torres, dated Hermosillo, Sonora,

Mexico, from Colonels Forsyth and Beaumont, commanding Huachuca and

Bowie districts, confirms the following: Geronimo with forty

Indians is endeavoring to make terms of peace with Mexican

authorities of Fronteraz district. One of our scouts, in returning

to Fort Huachuca from Lawton's command, met him, Naiche, and

thirteen other Indians on their way to Fronteraz; had a long

conversation with them; they said they wanted to make peace, and

looked worn and hungry. Geronimo carried his right arm in a sling,

bandaged. The splendid work of the troops is evidently having good

effect. Should hostiles not surrender to the Mexican authorities,

Lawton's command is south of them, and Wilder, with G and M troops,

Fourth Cavalry, moved south to Fronteraz, and will be there by

20th. Lieutenant Lockett, with an effective command, will be in

good position to-morrow, near Guadalupe Cañon, in Cajon Bonito

Mountains. On the 11th I had a very satisfactory interview with

Governor Torres. The Mexican officials are acting in concert with

ours.'

"O. O. HOWARD,

Major General."

[Illustration: KAYTAH NAHTEEN Apache Scouts who were with Gen. Lawton]

General O. O. Howard telegraphed from Presidio, San Francisco,

California, September 24, 1886, as follows:

" ... The 6th of September General Miles reports the hostile

Apaches made overtures of surrender, through Lieutenant Gatewood,

to Captain Lawton. They desired certain terms and sent two

messengers to me (Miles). They were informed that they must

surrender as prisoners of war to troops in the field. They promised

to surrender to me in person, and for eleven days Captain Lawton's

command moved north, Geronimo and Naiche moving parallel and

frequently camping near it.... At Skeleton Cañon they halted,

saying that they desired to see me (Miles) before surrendering."

After Miles's arrival he reports as follows:

"Geronimo came from his mountain camp amid the rocks and said he

was willing to surrender. He was told that they could surrender as

prisoners of war; that it was not the way of officers of the Army

to kill their enemies who laid down their arms."

" ... Naiche was wild and suspicious and evidently feared

treachery. He knew that the once noted leader, Mangus-Colorado,

had, years ago, been foully murdered after he had surrendered, and

the last hereditary chief of the hostile Apaches hesitated to

place himself in the hands of the palefaces...."

Continuing his report, General Howard says:

" ... I believed at first from official reports that the surrender

was unconditional, except that the troops themselves would not kill

the hostiles. Now, from General Miles's dispatches and from his

annual report, forwarded on the 21st instant by mail, the

conditions are plain: First, that the lives of all the Indians

should be spared. Second, that they should be sent to Fort Marion,

Florida, where their tribe, including their families, had already

been ordered...."

D. S. Stanley, Brigadier General, telegraphs from San Antonio, Texas,

October 22, 1886, as follows:

" ... Geronimo and Naiche requested an interview with me when they

first ascertained that they were to leave here, and in talking to

them, I told them the exact disposition that was to be made of

them. They regarded the separation of themselves from their

families as a violation of the terms of their treaty of surrender,

by which they had been guaranteed, in the most positive manner

conceivable to their minds, that they should be united with their

families at Fort Marion.

"There were present at the talk they had with me Major J. P.

Wright, surgeon, United States Army; Captain J. G. Ballance, acting

Judge-advocate, United States Army; George Wratton,[42] the

interpreter; Naiche, and Geronimo.

"The Indians were separated from their families at this place; the

women, children, and the two scouts were placed in a separate car

before they left.

"In an interview with me they stated the following incident, which

they regard as an essential part of their treaty of surrender, and

which took place at Skeleton Cañon before they had, as a band, made

up their minds to surrender, and before any of them, except perhaps

Geronimo, had given up their arms, and when they were still fully

able to escape and defend themselves.

"General Miles said to them: 'You go with me to Fort Bowie and at a

certain time you will go to see your relatives in Florida.' After

they went to Fort Bowie he reassured them that they would see their

relatives in Florida in four and a half or five days.

"While at Skeleton Cañon General Miles said to them: 'I have come

to have a talk with you.' The conversation was interpreted from

English into Spanish and from Spanish into Apache and _vice versa_.

The interpreting from English into Spanish was done by a man by

the name of Nelson. The interpreting from Spanish into Apache was

done by José Maria Yaskes. José Maria Montoya was also present, but

he did not do any of the interpreting.

"Dr. Wood, United States Army, and Lieutenant Clay, Tenth Infantry,

were present.

"General Miles drew a line on the ground and said, 'This represents

the ocean,' and, putting a small rock beside the line, he said,

'This represents the place where Chihuahua is with his band.' He

then picked up another stone and placed it a short distance from

the first, and said, 'This represents you, Geronimo.' He then

picked up a third stone and placed it a little distance from the

others, and said, 'This represents the Indians at Camp Apache. The

President wants to take you and put you with Chihuahua.' He then

picked up the stone which represented Geronimo and his band and

put it beside the one which represented Chihuahua at Fort Marion.

After doing this he picked up the stone which represented the

Indians at Camp Apache and placed it beside the other two stones

which represented Geronimo and Chihuahua at Fort Marion, and said,

'That is what the President wants to do, get all of you together.'

"After their arrival at Fort Bowie General Miles said to them,

'From now on we want to begin a new life,' and holding up one of

his hands with the palm open and horizontal he marked lines across

it with the finger of the other hand and said, pointing to his open

palm, 'This represents the past; it is all covered with hollows and

ridges,' then, rubbing his other palm over it, he said, 'That

represents the wiping out of the past, which will be considered

smooth and forgotten.'

"The interpreter, Wratton, says that he was present and heard this

conversation. The Indians say that Captain Thompson, Fourth

Cavalry, was also present.

"Naiche said that Captain Thompson, who was the acting assistant

adjutant general, Department of Arizona, told him at his house in

Fort Bowie, 'Don't be afraid; no harm shall come to you. You will

go to your friends all right.' He also told them 'that Fort Marion

is not a very large place, and is not probably large enough for

all, and that probably in six months or so you will be put in a

larger place, where you can do better.' He told them the same thing

when they took their departure in the cars from Fort Bowie.

"The idea that they had of the treaty of surrender given in this

letter is forwarded at their desire, and, while not desiring to

comment on the matter, I feel compelled to say that my knowledge of

the Indian character, and the experience I have had with Indians of

all kinds, and the corroborating circumstances and facts that have

been brought to my notice in this particular case, convince me that

the foregoing statement of Naiche and Geronimo is substantially

correct."

[Illustration: EMMA TUKLONEN]

Extract from the annual report (1886) of the Division of the Pacific,

commanded by Major General O. O. Howard, U. S. Army.

"HEADQUARTERS DIVISION OF THE PACIFIC,

PRESIDIO OF SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.

September 17, 1886.

"ADJUTANT GENERAL,

U. S. Army, Washington, D. C.:

"GENERAL: I have the honor to submit the following report upon

military operations and the condition of the Division of the

Pacific for the information of the Lieutenant General, and to make

some suggestions for his consideration:

* * * * *

"On the 17th of May, 1885, a party of about fifty of the Chiricahua

prisoners, headed by Geronimo, Naiche, and other chiefs, escaped

from the White Mountain Reserve, in Arizona, and entered upon a

career of murder and robbery unparalleled in the history of Indian

raids.

"Since then, and up to the time of my assuming command of this

division, they had been pursued by troops with varying success.

"After the assassination of Captain Crawford, on January 11, by the

Mexicans, the hostiles asked for a 'talk,' and finally had a

conference on March 25, 26, and 27, with General Crook, in the

Cañon of Los Embudos, 25 miles south of San Bernardino, Mexico, on

which latter date it was arranged that they should be conducted by

Lieutenant Manus, with his battalion of scouts, to Fort Bowie,

Ariz.

"The march commenced on the morning of March 28 and proceeded until

the night of the 29th, when, becoming excited with fears of

possible punishment, Geronimo and Naiche, with twenty men,

fourteen women, and two boys, stampeded to the hills. Lieutenant

Manus immediately pursued, but without success.

* * * * *

"Simultaneously with my taking command of the division Brigadier

General Crook was relieved by Brigadier General Miles, who at once

set out to complete the task commenced by his predecessor.

"Geronimo and his band were committing depredations, now in the

United States and now in Mexico, and, being separated into small

parties, easily eluded the troops, and carried on their work of

murder and outrage.

"Early in May General Miles organized the hostile field of

operations into districts, each with its command of troops, with

specific instructions to guard the water holes, to cover the entire

ground by scouting parties, and give the hostiles no rest.

"An effective command, under Captain Lawton, Fourth Cavalry, was

organized for a long pursuit.

"On May 3 Captain Lebo, Tenth Cavalry, had a fight with Geronimo's

band 12 miles southwest of Santa Cruz, in Mexico, with a loss of

one soldier killed and one wounded. After this fight the Indians

retreated southward followed by three troops of cavalry.

"On May 12 a serious fight of Mexican troops with the hostiles near

Planchos, Mexico, resulted in a partial defeat of the Mexicans.

"On May 15 Captain Hatfield's command engaged Geronimo's band in

the Corrona Mountains, suffering a loss of two killed and three

wounded, and the loss of several horses and mules, the Indians

losing several killed.

"On May 16 Lieutenant Brown, Fourth Cavalry, struck the hostiles

near Buena Vista, Mexico, capturing several horses, rifles, and a

quantity of ammunition.

"The usual series of outrages, with fatiguing chase by troops,

continued until June 21, when the Mexicans engaged the hostiles

about 40 miles southeast of Magdalena, Mexico, and after a stubborn

fight repulsed them....

* * * * *

"About the middle of August Geronimo and his band were so reduced

and harassed by the tireless pursuit of the soldiers that they made

offer of surrender to the Mexicans, but without coming to terms.

"Their locality thus being definitely known, disposition of the

troops was rapidly made to act in conjunction with the Mexicans to

intercept Geronimo and force his surrender.

"On August 25 Geronimo, when near Fronteraz, Mexico, recognizing

that he was pretty well surrounded, and being out of ammunition and

food, made overtures of capitulation, through Lieutenant Gatewood,

Sixth Cavalry, to Captain Lawton. He desired certain terms, but

was informed that a surrender as prisoner of war was all that would

be accepted.

"The Indians then proceeded to the vicinity of Captain Lawton's

command, near Skeleton Cañon, and sent word that they wished to see

General Miles.

"On September 3 General Miles arrived at Lawton's camp, and on

September 4 Naiche, the son of Cochise, and the hereditary chief of

the Apaches, with Geronimo surrendered all the hostiles, with the

understanding, it seems, that they should be sent out of Arizona.

"I am not informed of the exact nature of this surrender, at first

deemed unconditional....

* * * * *

"I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

"O. O. HOWARD,

"Major General, United States Army."

_Statement of W. T. Melton, Anadarko, Oklahoma._

From 1882 to 1887 I lived in southern Arizona, and was employed by the

Sansimone Cattle Company.

In 1886 I was stationed in Skeleton Cañon, about 10 miles north of the

boundary line between Arizona and Old Mexico, with J. D. Prewitt. It was

our duty to ride the lines south of our range and keep the cattle of the

Company from straying into Old Mexico.

One afternoon, when returning from our ride, we discovered an Indian

trail leading toward our camp. We rode hurriedly out of the hills into a

broad valley so that we could better discover any attacking parties of

Apaches and if assailed have at least a fighting chance for our lives.

We knew the Apaches under Geronimo were on the warpath, but they were

far down in Old Mexico. However, our knowledge of the Indians led us to

expect anything at any time--to always be ready for the worst.

When we reached the valley we struck a cavalry trail also headed for our

camp. This was perplexing, for neither the Indians nor the soldiers

seemed to have been riding fast, and both trails led toward our camp in

Skeleton Cañon. This cañon was a natural route from Old Mexico to

Arizona, and almost all bands of Indians, as well as detachments of

United States troops, passed and repassed through this valley when going

to Old Mexico or returning therefrom, but never before had two hostile

bands passed through here at the same time and traveling in the same

direction, except when one fled and the other pursued. What this could

mean was a mystery to us. Could it be that the troops had not seen the

Indians? Were the redskins trying to head the troops off and attack them

in their camp? Were the troops hunting for those Indians? Could this be

Lawton's command? Could that be Geronimo's band? No, it was impossible.

Then who were these troops and what Indians were those?

Cautiously we rode to our camp, and nailed on the door of our cabin was

this notice:

"BE CAREFUL, GERONIMO IS NEAR BY AND HAS NOT YET SURRENDERED.

"CAPT. LAWTON."

Then we understood.

A short distance above our cabin we found the camp of the troops and we

had just finished talking with Captain Lawton, who advised us to remain

in his camp rather than risk staying alone in our cabin, when up rode

the chief, Geronimo. He was mounted on a blaze-faced, white-stockinged

dun horse.

He came directly to Captain Lawton and through an interpreter asked who

we were and what we wanted.

As soon as the explanation was given he nodded his approval and rode

away.

Prewitt and I rode away with him. We were well armed and well mounted

and Geronimo was well mounted, but so far as we could see unarmed. I

tried to talk with the chief (in English), but could not make him

understand. Prewitt wanted to shoot[43] him and said he could easily

kill him the first shot, but I objected and succeeded in restraining

him. While we were arguing the chief rode silently between us, evidently

feeling perfectly secure. All this time we had been riding in the

direction of our horses that were grazing in the valley about a mile

distant from our corral. When we came to a place about a half mile from

Lawton's camp, where a spur of the mountain ran far out into the valley,

Geronimo turned aside, saluted, said in fairly good Spanish, "_Adios,

Señors_," and began to ascend a mountain path. Later we learned that he

was going directly toward his camp far up among the rocks. We rode on,

drove our horses back to the corral and remained in our cabin all night,

but were not molested by the Indians.

The next day we killed three beeves for the Indians, and they were paid

for by Captain Lawton. On the second day two mounted Mexican scouts came

to Lawton's camp. As soon as these Mexicans came in sight the Indians

seized their arms and vanished, as it were, among the rocks.

Captain Lawton wrote an account of conditions and delivered it to the

Mexicans, who withdrew. After they had gone and their mission had been

explained to Geronimo the Indians again returned to their camp and laid

down their arms.

On the next day word reached camp that General Miles was approaching and

the Indians again armed and disappeared among the rocks. (Many of the

Apache squaws had field glasses[44] and were stationed every day on

prominent mountain peaks to keep a lookout. No one could approach their

camp or Lawton's camp without being discovered by these spies.)

Soon after General Miles joined Lawton's command Geronimo rode into camp

unarmed, and dismounting approached General Miles, shook hands with him,

and then stood proudly before the officers waiting for General Miles to

begin conversation with him.

The interpreter said to Geronimo, "General Miles is your friend."

Geronimo said, "I never saw him, but I have been in need of friends. Why

has he not been with me?" When this answer was interpreted everybody

laughed. After this there was no more formality and without delay the

discussion of the treaty was begun. All I remember distinctly of the

treaty is that Geronimo and his band were not to be killed, but they

were to be taken to their families.

[Illustration: W. F. MELTON

At whose camp in Skeleton Cañon Geronimo surrendered]

I remember this more distinctly, because the Indians were so much

pleased with this particular one of the terms of the treaty.

Geronimo, Naiche, and a few others went on ahead with General Miles, but

the main band of Indians left under the escort of Lawton's troops.

The night before they left, a young squaw, daughter-in-law of Geronimo,

gave birth to a child. The next morning the husband, Geronimo's son,

carried the child, but the mother mounted her pony unaided and rode away

unassisted--a prisoner of war under military escort.

On the afternoon of the day of the treaty Captain Lawton built a

monument (about ten feet across and six feet high) of rough stones at

the spot where the treaty was made. The next year some cowboys on a

round-up camped at the place, and tore down the monument to see what was

in it. All they found was a bottle containing a piece of paper upon

which was written the names of the officers who were with Lawton.

After the Indians left we found one hundred and fifty dollars and

twenty-five cents ($150.25) in Mexican money hidden in a rat's nest[45]

near where the Indians had camped.

About ten o'clock on the morning after the Apaches and soldiers had gone

away twenty Pimos Indians, accompanied by one white man, surrounded our

camp and demanded to know of Geronimo's whereabouts. We told them of the

treaty and they followed the trail on toward Fort Bowie.

That afternoon, thinking all danger from Apaches past, my partner,

Prewitt, went to ride the lines and I was left in camp alone. I was

pumping water (by horse-power) at the well, when I saw three Indians

rounding up our horses about half a mile away. They saw me but did not

disturb me, nor did I interfere with them, but as soon as they had

driven that bunch of horses northward over the hill out of sight I rode

quickly off in another direction and drove another bunch of horses into

the corral. The rest of the afternoon I stayed in camp, but saw no more

Indians.

The next day we rode over the hill in the direction these Indians had

gone and found that they had camped not three miles away. There were

evidently several in the party and they had kept scouts concealed near

the top of the hill to watch me, and to shoot me from ambush had I

followed them. This we knew because we saw behind some rocks at the

crest of the hill in the loose soil the imprints left by the bodies of

three warriors where they had been lying down in concealment.

At their camp we found the head and hoofs of my favorite horse,

"Digger," a fine little sorrel pony, and knew that he had served them

for dinner. We followed their trail far into Old Mexico, but did not

overtake them. We had been accustomed to say "it was Geronimo's band,"

whenever any depredation was committed, but this time we were not so

positive.

* * * * *

We do not wish to express our own opinion, but to ask the reader

whether, after having had the testimony of Apaches, soldiers, and

civilians, who knew the conditions of surrender, and, after having

examined carefully the testimony offered, it would be possible to

conclude that Geronimo made an unconditional surrender?

Before passing from this subject it would be well also to consider

whether our Government has treated these prisoners in strict accordance

with the terms of the treaty made in Skeleton Cañon.

FOOTNOTES:

[42] Mr. George Wratton is now at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, acting as

Superintendent of Apaches. He has been with the Apaches as interpreter

and superintendent since their surrender.

[43] Recently Mr. Melton told Geronimo of this conversation. The wily

old chief laughed shyly and said, "What if Prewitt's pistol had been

knocked out of his hand? Other men have tried to shoot me and at least

some of them failed. But I'm glad he didn't try it."

[44] These field glasses were taken from soldiers and officers (Mexicans

and Americans) whom the Apaches had killed.

[45] This was a stick nest built on top of the ground by a species of

woods rat.

CHAPTER XIX

A PRISONER OF WAR

When I had given up to the Government they put me on the Southern

Pacific Railroad and took me to San Antonio, Texas, and held me to be

tried by their laws.

In forty days they took me from there to Fort Pickens (Pensacola),

Florida. Here they put me to sawing up large logs. There were several

other Apache warriors with me, and all of us had to work every day. For

nearly two years we were kept at hard labor in this place and we did not

see our families until May, 1887. This treatment was in direct violation

of our treaty made at Skeleton Cañon.

After this we were sent with our families to Vermont, Alabama, where we

stayed five years and worked for the Government. We had no property,

and I looked in vain for General Miles to send me to that land of which

he had spoken; I longed in vain for the implements, house, and stock

that General Miles had promised me.

During this time one of my warriors, Fun, killed himself and his wife.

Another one shot his wife and then shot himself. He fell dead, but the

woman recovered and is still living.

We were not healthy in this place, for the climate disagreed with us. So

many of our people died that I consented to let one of my wives go to

the Mescalero Agency in New Mexico to live. This separation is according

to our custom equivalent to what the white people call divorce, and so

she married again soon after she got to Mescalero. She also kept our two

small children, which she had a right to do. The children, Lenna and

Robbie, are still living at Mescalero, New Mexico. Lenna is married. I

kept one wife, but she is dead now and I have only our daughter Eva

with me. Since my separation from Lenna's mother I have never had more

than one wife at a time. Since the death of Eva's mother I married

another woman (December, 1905) but we could not live happily and

separated. She went home to her people--that is an Apache divorce.

Then,[46] as now, Mr. George Wratton superintended the Indians. He has

always had trouble with the Indians, because he has mistreated them. One

day an Indian, while drunk, stabbed Mr. Wratton with a little knife. The

officer in charge took the part of Mr. Wratton and the Indian was sent

to prison.

When[47] we first came to Fort Sill, Captain Scott was in charge, and he

had houses built for us by the Government. We were also given, from the

Government, cattle, hogs, turkeys and chickens. The Indians did not do

much good with the hogs, because they did not understand how to care for

them, and not many Indians even at the present time keep hogs. We did

better with the turkeys and chickens, but with these we did not have as

good luck as white men do. With the cattle we have done very well,

indeed, and we like to raise them. We have a few horses also, and have

had no bad luck with them.

In the matter of selling[48] our stock and grain there has been much

misunderstanding. The Indians understood that the cattle were to be sold

and the money given to them, but instead part of the money is given to

the Indians and part of it is placed in what the officers call the

"Apache Fund." We have had five different officers in charge of the

Indians here and they have all ruled very much alike--not consulting the

Apaches or even explaining to them. It may be that the Government

ordered the officers in charge to put this cattle money into an Apache

fund, for once I complained and told Lieutenant Purington[49] that I

intended to report to the Government that he had taken some of my part

of the cattle money and put it into the Apache Fund, he said he did not

care if I did tell.

Several years ago the issue of clothing ceased. This, too, may have been

by the order of the Government, but the Apaches do not understand it.

If there is an Apache Fund, it should some day be turned over to the

Indians, or at least they should have an account of it, for it is their

earnings.

When General Miles last visited Fort Sill I asked to be relieved from

labor on account of my age. I also remembered what General Miles had

promised me in the treaty and told him of it. He said I need not work

any more except when I wished to, and since that time I have not been

detailed to do any work. I have worked a great deal, however, since

then, for, although I am old, I like to work[50] and help my people as

much as I am able.

FOOTNOTES:

[46] These are not the words of the Editor, but of Geronimo.

[47] They were in Alabama from May, 1888, to October, 1894.

[48] The Indians are not allowed to sell the cattle themselves. When

cattle are ready for market they are sold by the officer in charge, part

of the money paid to the Indians who owned them and part of it placed in

a general (Apache) fund. The supplies, farming implements, etc., for the

Apaches are paid for from this fund.

[49] The criticism of Lieutenant Purington is from Geronimo. The Editor

disclaims any responsibility for it, as in all cases where individuals

are criticised by the old warrior.

[50] Geronimo helps make hay and care for the cattle, but does not

receive orders from the Superintendent of the Indians.

PART IV

THE OLD AND THE NEW

CHAPTER XX

UNWRITTEN LAWS OF THE APACHES

_Trials_

When an Indian has been wronged by a member of his tribe he may, if he

does not wish to settle the difficulty personally, make complaint to the

Chieftain. If he is unable to meet the offending parties in a personal

encounter, and disdains to make complaint, anyone may in his stead

inform the chief of this conduct, and then it becomes necessary to have

an investigation or trial. Both the accused and the accuser are entitled

to witnesses, and their witnesses are not interrupted in any way by

questions, but simply say what they wish to say in regard to the matter.

The witnesses are not placed under oath, because it is not believed that

they will give false testimony in a matter relating to their own people.

The chief of the tribe presides during these trials, but if it is a

serious offense he asks two or three leaders to sit with him. These

simply determine whether or not the man is guilty. If he is not guilty

the matter is ended, and the complaining party has forfeited his right

to take personal vengeance, for if he wishes to take vengeance himself,

he must object to the trial which would prevent it. If the accused is

found guilty the injured party fixes the penalty, which is generally

confirmed by the chief and his associates.

_Adoption of Children_

If any children are left orphans by the usage of war or otherwise, that

is, if both parents are dead, the chief of the tribe may adopt them or

give them away as he desires. In the case of outlawed Indians, they may,

if they wish, take their children with them, but if they leave the

children with the tribe, the chief decides what will be done with them,

but no disgrace attaches to the children.

_"Salt Lake"_

We obtained our salt from a little lake in the Gila Mountains. This is a

very small lake of clear, shallow water, and in the center a small mound

arises above the surface of the water. The water is too salty to drink,

and the bottom of the lake is covered with a brown crust. When this

crust is broken cakes of salt adhere to it. These cakes of salt may be

washed clear in the water of this lake, but if washed in other water

will dissolve.

When visiting this lake our people were not allowed to even kill game or

attack an enemy. All creatures were free to go and come without

molestation.

_Preparation of a Warrior_

To be admitted as a warrior a youth must have gone with the warriors of

his tribe four separate times on the warpath.

On the first trip he will be given only very inferior food. With this

he must be contented without murmuring. On none of the four trips is he

allowed to select his food as the warriors do, but must eat such food as

he is permitted to have.

On each of these expeditions he acts as servant, cares for the horses,

cooks the food, and does whatever duties he should do without being

told. He knows what things are to be done, and without waiting to be

told is to do them. He is not allowed to speak to any warrior except in

answer to questions or when told to speak.

During these four wars he is expected to learn the sacred names of

everything used in war, for after the tribe enters upon the warpath no

common names are used in referring to anything appertaining to war in

any way. War is a solemn religious matter.

If, after four expeditions, all the warriors are satisfied that the

youth has been industrious, has not spoken out of order, has been

discreet in all things, has shown courage in battle, has borne all

hardships uncomplainingly, and has exhibited no color of cowardice, or

weakness of any kind, he may by vote of the council be admitted as a

warrior; but if any warrior objects to him upon any account he will be

subjected to further tests, and if he meets these courageously, his name

may again be proposed. When he has proven beyond question that he can

bear hardships without complaint, and that he is a stranger to fear, he

is admitted to the council of the warriors in the lowest rank. After

this there is no formal test for promotions, but by common consent he

assumes a station on the battlefield, and if that position is maintained

with honor, he is allowed to keep it, and may be asked, or may

volunteer, to take a higher station, but no warrior would presume to

take a higher station unless he had assurance from the leaders of the

tribe that his conduct in the first position was worthy of

commendation.

From this point upward the only election by the council in formal

assembly is the election of the chief.

Old men are not allowed to lead in battle, but their advice is always

respected. Old age means loss of physical power and is fatal to active

leadership.

_Dances_

All dances are considered religious ceremonies and are presided over by

a chief and medicine men. They are of a social or military nature, but

never without some sacred characteristic.

_A Dance of Thanksgiving_

Every summer we would gather the fruit of the yucca, grind and pulverize

it and mold it into cakes; then the tribe would be assembled to feast,

to sing, and to give praises to Usen. Prayers of Thanksgiving were said

by all. When the dance began the leaders bore these cakes and added

words of praise occasionally to the usual tone sounds of the music.

[Illustration: CHIHUAHUA AND FAMILY]

_The War Dance_

After a council of the warriors had deliberated, and had prepared for

the warpath, the dance would be started. In this dance there is the

usual singing led by the warriors and accompanied with the beating of

the "esadadene," but the dancing is more violent, and yells and war

whoops sometimes almost drown the music. Only warriors participated in

this dance.

_Scalp Dance_

After a war party has returned, a modification of the war dance is held.

The warriors who have brought scalps from the battles exhibit them to

the tribe, and when the dance begins these scalps, elevated on poles or

spears, are carried around the camp fires while the dance is in

progress. During this dance there is still some of the solemnity of the

war dance. There are yells and war whoops, frequently accompanied by

discharge of firearms, but there is always more levity than would be

permitted at a war dance. After the scalp dance is over the scalps are

thrown away. No Apache would keep them, for they are considered

defiling.

_A Social Dance_

In the early part of September, 1905, I announced among the Apaches that

my daughter, Eva, having attained womanhood, should now put away

childish things and assume her station as a young lady. At a dance of

the tribe she would make her début, and then, or thereafter, it would be

proper for a warrior to seek her hand in marriage. Accordingly,

invitations were issued to all Apaches, and many Comanches and Kiowas,

to assemble for a grand dance on the green by the south bank of Medicine

Creek, near the village of Naiche, former chief of the Chokonen Apaches,

on the first night of full moon in September. The festivities were to

continue for two days and nights. Nothing was omitted in the preparation

that would contribute to the enjoyment of the guests or the perfection

of the observance of the religious rite.

To make ready for the dancing the grass on a large circular space was

closely mowed.

The singing was led by Chief Naiche, and I, assisted by our medicine

men, directed the dance.

First Eva advanced from among the women and danced once around the camp

fire; then, accompanied by another young woman, she again advanced and

both danced twice around the camp fire; then she and two other young

ladies advanced and danced three times around the camp fire; the next

time she and three other young ladies advanced and danced four times

around the camp fire; this ceremony lasted about one hour. Next the

medicine men entered, stripped to the waist, their bodies painted

fantastically, and danced the sacred dances. They were followed by clown

dancers, who amused the audience greatly.

Then the members of the tribe joined hands and danced in a circle around

the camp fire for a long time. All the friends of the tribe were asked

to take part in this dance, and when it was ended many of the old people

retired, and the "lovers' dance" began.

The warriors stood in the middle of the circle and the ladies,

two-and-two, danced forward and designated some warrior to dance with

them. The dancing was back and forth on a line from the center to the

outer edge of the circle. The warrior faced the two ladies, and when

they danced forward to the center he danced backward: then they danced

backward to the outer edge and he followed facing them. This lasted two

or three hours and then the music changed. Immediately the warriors

assembled again in the center of the circle, and this time each lady

selected a warrior as a partner. The manner of dancing was as before,

only two instead of three danced together. During this dance, which

continued until daylight, the warrior (if dancing with a maiden) could

propose[51] marriage, and if the maiden agreed, he would consult her

father soon afterward and make a bargain for her.

Upon all such occasions as this, when the dance is finished, each

warrior gives a present to the lady who selected him for a partner and

danced with him. If she is satisfied with the present he says good-by,

if not, the matter is referred to someone in authority (medicine man or

chief), who determines the question of what is a proper gift.

For a married lady the value of the present should be two or three

dollars; for a maiden the present should have a value of not less than

five dollars. Often, however, the maiden receives a very valuable

present.

During the "lovers' dance" the medicine men mingle with the dancers to

keep out evil spirits.

Perhaps I shall never again have cause to assemble our people to dance,

but these social dances in the moonlight have been a large part of our

enjoyment in the past, and I think they will not soon be discontinued,

at least I hope not.

FOOTNOTE:

[51] Apache warriors do not go "courting" as our youths do. The

associations in the villages afford ample opportunity for acquaintance,

and the arranging for marriages is considered a business transaction,

but the courtesy of consulting the maiden, although not essential, is

considered very polite.

CHAPTER XXI

AT THE WORLD'S FAIR

When I was at first asked to attend the St. Louis World's Fair I did not

wish to go. Later, when I was told that I would receive good attention

and protection, and that the President of the United States said that it

would be all right, I consented. I was kept by parties in charge of the

Indian Department, who had obtained permission from the President. I

stayed in this place for six months. I sold my photographs for

twenty-five cents, and was allowed to keep ten cents of this for myself.

I also wrote my name for ten, fifteen, or twenty-five cents, as the case

might be, and kept all of that money. I often made as much as two

dollars a day, and when I returned I had plenty of money--more than I

had ever owned before.

Many people in St. Louis invited me to come to their homes, but my

keeper always refused.

Every Sunday the President of the Fair sent for me to go to a wild west

show. I took part in the roping contests before the audience. There were

many other Indian tribes there, and strange people of whom I had never

heard.

When people first came to the World's Fair they did nothing but parade

up and down the streets. When they got tired of this they would visit

the shows. There were many strange things in these shows. The Government

sent guards with me when I went, and I was not allowed to go anywhere

without them.

In one of the shows some strange men[52] with red caps had some peculiar

swords, and they seemed to want to fight. Finally their manager told

them they might fight each other. They tried to hit each other over the

head with these swords, and I expected both to be wounded or perhaps

killed, but neither one was harmed. They would be hard people to kill in

a hand-to-hand fight.

In another show there was a strange-looking negro. The manager tied his

hands fast, then tied him to a chair. He was securely tied, for I looked

myself, and I did not think it was possible for him to get away. Then

the manager told him to get loose.

He twisted in his chair for a moment, and then stood up; the ropes were

still tied, but he was free. I do not understand how this was done. It

was certainly a miraculous power, because no man could have released

himself by his own efforts.

In another place a man was on a platform speaking to the audience; they

set a basket by the side of the platform and covered it with red calico;

then a woman came and got into the basket, and a man covered the basket

again with the calico; then the man who was speaking to the audience

took a long sword and ran it through the basket, each way, and then down

through the cloth cover. I heard the sword cut through the woman's body,

and the manager himself said she was dead; but when the cloth was lifted

from the basket she stepped out, smiled, and walked off the stage. I

would like to know how she was so quickly healed, and why the wounds did

not kill her.

I have never considered bears very intelligent, except in their wild

habits, but I had never before seen a white bear. In one of the shows a

man had a white bear that was as intelligent as a man. He would do

whatever he was told--carry a log on his shoulder, just as a man would;

then, when he was told, would put it down again. He did many other

things, and seemed to know exactly what his keeper said to him. I am

sure that no grizzly bear could be trained to do these things.

[Illustration: MRS. ASA DEKLUGIE

Niece of Geronimo and daughter of Chihuahua, a famous Apache chieftain

EVA GERONIMO

Geronimo's youngest daughter, 16 years old]

One time the guards took me into a little house[53] that had four

windows. When we were seated the little house started to move along the

ground. Then the guards called my attention to some curious things they

had in their pockets. Finally they told me to look out, and when I did

so I was scared, for our little house had gone high up in the air, and

the people down in the Fair Grounds looked no larger than ants. The men

laughed at me for being scared; then they gave me a glass to look

through (I often had such glasses which I took from dead officers after

battles in Mexico and elsewhere), and I could see rivers, lakes and

mountains. But I had never been so high in the air, and I tried to look

into the sky. There were no stars, and I could not look at the sun

through this glass because the brightness hurt my eyes. Finally I put

the glass down, and as they were all laughing at me, I too, began to

laugh. Then they said, "Get out!" and when I looked we were on the

street again. After we were safe on the land I watched many of these

little houses going up and coming down, but I cannot understand how they

travel. They are very curious little houses.

One day we went into another show, and as soon as we were in, it changed

into night. It was real night, for I could feel the damp air; soon it

began to thunder, and the lightnings flashed; it was real lightning,

too, for it struck just above our heads. I dodged and wanted to run

away, but I could not tell which way to go in order to get out. The

guards motioned me to keep still, and so I stayed. In front of us were

some strange little people who came out on the platform; then I looked

up again and the clouds were all gone, and I could see the stars

shining. The little people on the platform did not seem in earnest about

anything they did; so I only laughed at them. All the people around

where we sat seemed to be laughing at me.

We went into another place and the manager took us into a little room

that was made like a cage; then everything around us seemed to be

moving; soon the air looked blue, then there were black clouds moving

with the wind. Pretty soon it was clear outside; then we saw a few thin

white clouds; then the clouds grew thicker, and it rained and hailed

with thunder and lightning. Then the thunder retreated and a rainbow

appeared in the distance; then it became dark, the moon rose and

thousands of stars came out. Soon the sun came up, and we got out of the

little room. This was a good show, but it was so strange and unnatural

that I was glad to be on the streets again.

We went into one place where they made glassware. I had always thought

that these things were made by hand, but they are not. The man had a

curious little instrument, and whenever he would blow through this into

a little blaze the glass would take any shape he wanted it to. I am not

sure, but I think that if I had this kind of an instrument I could make

whatever I wished. There seems to be a charm about it. But I suppose it

is very difficult to get these little instruments, or other people would

have them. The people in this show were so anxious to buy the things the

man made that they kept him so busy he could not sit down all day long.

I bought many curious things in there and brought them home with me.

At the end of one of the streets some people were getting into a clumsy

canoe, upon a kind of shelf, and sliding down into the water.[54] They

seemed to enjoy it, but it looked too fierce for me. If one of these

canoes had gone out of its path the people would have been sure to get

hurt or killed.

There were some little brown people[55] at the Fair that United States

troops captured recently on some islands far away from here.

They did not wear much clothing, and I think that they should not have

been allowed to come to the Fair. But they themselves did not seem to

know any better. They had some little brass plates, and they tried to

play music with these, but I did not think it was music--it was only a

rattle. However, they danced to this noise and seemed to think they were

giving a fine show.

I do not know how true the report was, but I heard that the President

sent them to the Fair so that they could learn some manners, and when

they went home teach their people how to dress and how to behave.

I am glad I went to the Fair. I saw many interesting things and learned

much of the white people. They are a very kind and peaceful people.

During all the time I was at the Fair no one tried to harm me in any

way. Had this been among the Mexicans I am sure I should have been

compelled to defend myself often.

I wish all my people could have attended the Fair.[56]

FOOTNOTES:

[52] Turks.

[53] Ferris wheel.

[54] Shooting the Chute.

[55] Iggorrotes from the Philippines.

[56] Geronimo was also taken to both the Omaha and the Buffalo

Expositions, but during that period of his life he was sullen and took

no interest in things. The St. Louis Exposition was held after he had

adopted the Christian religion and had begun to try to understand our

civilization.

CHAPTER XXII

RELIGION

In our primitive worship only our relations to Usen and the members of

our tribe were considered as appertaining to our religious

responsibilities. As to the future state, the teachings of our tribe

were not specific, that is, we had no definite idea of our relations and

surroundings in after life. We believed that there is a life after this

one, but no one ever told me as to what part of man lived after death. I

have seen many men die; I have seen many human bodies decayed, but I

have never seen that part which is called the spirit; I do not know what

it is; nor have I yet been able to understand that part of the Christian

religion.

We held that the discharge of one's duty would make his future life more

pleasant, but whether that future life was worse than this life or

better, we did not know, and no one was able to tell us. We hoped that

in the future life family and tribal relations would be resumed. In a

way we believed this, but we did not know it.

Once when living in San Carlos Reservation an Indian told me that while

lying unconscious on the battlefield he had actually been dead, and had

passed into the spirit land.

First he came to a mulberry tree growing out from a cave in the ground.

Before this cave a guard was stationed, but when he approached without

fear the guard let him pass. He descended into the cave, and a little

way back the path widened and terminated in a perpendicular rock many

hundreds of feet wide and equal in height. There was not much light, but

by peering directly beneath him he discovered a pile of sand reaching

from the depths below to within twenty feet of the top of the rock where

he stood. Holding to a bush, he swung off from the edge of the rock and

dropped onto the sand, sliding rapidly down its steep side into the

darkness. He landed in a narrow passage running due westward through a

cañon which gradually grew lighter and lighter until he could see as

well as if it had been daylight; but there was no sun. Finally he came

to a section of this passage that was wider for a short distance, and

then closing abruptly continued in a narrow path; just where this

section narrowed two huge serpents were coiled, and rearing their heads,

hissed at him as he approached, but he showed no fear, and as soon as he

came close to them they withdrew quietly and let him pass. At the next

place, where the passage opened into a wider section, were two grizzly

bears prepared to attack him, but when he approached and spoke to them

they stood aside and he passed unharmed. He continued to follow the

narrow passage, and the third time it widened and two mountain lions

crouched in the way, but when he had approached them without fear and

had spoken to them they also withdrew. He again entered the narrow

passage. For some time he followed this, emerging into a fourth section

beyond which he could see nothing: the further walls of this section

were clashing together at regular intervals with tremendous sounds, but

when he approached them they stood apart until he had passed. After this

he seemed to be in a forest, and following the natural draws, which led

westward, soon came into a green valley where there were many Indians

camped and plenty of game. He said that he saw and recognized many whom

he had known in this life, and that he was sorry when he was brought

back to consciousness.

I told him if I knew this to be true I would not want to live another

day, but by some means, if by my own hands, I would die in order to

enjoy these pleasures. I myself have lain unconscious on the

battlefield, and while in that condition have had some strange thoughts

or experiences; but they are very dim and I cannot recall them well

enough to relate them. Many Indians believed this warrior, and I cannot

say that he did not tell the truth. I wish I knew that what he said is

beyond question true. But perhaps it is as well that we are not certain.

[Illustration: READY FOR CHURCH]

Since my life as a prisoner has begun I have heard the teachings of the

white man's religion, and in many respects believe it to be better than

the religion of my fathers. However, I have always prayed, and I believe

that the Almighty has always protected me.

Believing that in a wise way it is good to go to church, and that

associating with Christians would improve my character, I have adopted

the Christian religion.[57] I believe that the church has helped me

much during the short time I have been a member. I am not ashamed to be

a Christian, and I am glad to know that the President of the United

States is a Christian, for without the help of the Almighty I do not

think he could rightly judge in ruling so many people. I have advised

all of my people who are not Christians, to study that religion, because

it seems to me the best religion in enabling one to live right.

FOOTNOTE:

[57] Geronimo joined the Dutch Reformed church and was baptized in the

summer of 1903. He attends the services regularly at the Apache Mission,

Ft. Sill Military Reservation.

CHAPTER XXIII

HOPES FOR THE FUTURE

I am thankful that the President of the United States has given me

permission to tell my story. I hope that he and those in authority under

him will read my story and judge whether my people have been rightly

treated.

There is a great question between the Apaches and the Government. For

twenty years we have been held prisoners of war under a treaty which was

made with General Miles, on the part of the United States Government,

and myself as the representative of the Apaches. That treaty has not at

all times been properly observed by the Government, although at the

present time it is being more nearly fulfilled on their part than

heretofore. In the treaty with General Miles we agreed to go to a place

outside of Arizona and learn to live as the white people do. I think

that my people are now capable of living in accordance with the laws of

the United States, and we would, of course, like to have the liberty to

return to that land which is ours by divine right. We are reduced in

numbers, and having learned how to cultivate the soil would not require

so much ground as was formerly necessary. We do not ask all of the land

which the Almighty gave us in the beginning, but that we may have

sufficient lands there to cultivate. What we do not need we are glad for

the white men to cultivate.

We are now held on Comanche and Kiowa lands, which are not suited to our

needs--these lands and this climate are suited to the Indians who

originally inhabited this country, of course, but our people are

decreasing in numbers here, and will continue to decrease unless they

are allowed to return to their native land. Such a result is inevitable.

There is no climate or soil which, to my mind, is equal to that of

Arizona. We could have plenty of good cultivating land, plenty of grass,

plenty of timber and plenty of minerals in that land which the Almighty

created for the Apaches. It is my land, my home, my fathers' land, to

which I now ask to be allowed to return. I want to spend my last days

there, and be buried among those mountains. If this could be I might die

in peace, feeling that my people, placed in their native homes, would

increase in numbers, rather than diminish as at present, and that our

name would not become extinct.

I know that if my people were placed in that mountainous region lying

around the headwaters of the Gila River they would live in peace and act

according to the will of the President. They would be prosperous and

happy in tilling the soil and learning the civilization of the white

men, whom they now respect. Could I but see this accomplished, I think I

could forget all the wrongs that I have ever received, and die a

contented and happy old man. But we can do nothing in this matter

ourselves--we must wait until those in authority choose to act. If this

cannot be done during my lifetime--if I must die in bondage--I hope that

the remnant of the Apache tribe may, when I am gone, be granted the one

privilege which they request--to return to Arizona.