Shoz-Dijiji fired and scuttled to a new position nearer Apache Pass. The troopers peppered away at the spot from which the smoke of his shot had arisen, as they had all the long hot afternoon. Shoz-Dijiji fired again and moved on.
The infantry was met by a messenger from the cavalry. All afternoon they had heard the firing and had hastened forward. Hot, dusty, tired, they were in bad humor. Spitting dust from swollen tongues, they cursed all Indians in general and Apaches in particular as they deployed and started up the hillside to flank the embattled reds. This time, by God, they would get old Geronimo and all his dirty, sneaking Siwashes!
Simultaneously the dismounted troopers charged straight into the face of the enemy. Fat chance the doughboys had of beating them to it!
It was a race now to see which would reach the renegades first—cavalry or infantry. The cavalry; having the advantage of propinquity, arrived first, and they got something, too—when the infantry arrived, they got the laugh. There was not an Indian in sight!
From a hill top a mile to the south of them a lone warrior watched them, estimating the numbers of the infantry, the size of the wagon train. Satisfied, he turned and trotted along the trail made by his fellows as they moved southward.
Down into Sonora the long trail was leading, down to a camp in the Sierra de Sahuaripa mountains.
Geronimo had gone out again!
Chapter Two
Spoils of War
THE camp of Be-don-ko-he and Ned-ni Apaches lay in the Sierra de Sahuaripa not far from Casa Grande, but the activities of the renegades led them far afield in both Sonora and Chihuahua during the ensuing year.