Presently his eyes wandered to the figure of the Apache brave riding across the parade on the pinto stallion, and his brows contracted in thought. Where had he seen that buck before?—a long time before. There was something mighty familiar about him—something that Cheetim had not noticed until he saw the Indian talking with Wichita Billings; but even so he failed to connect the associated ideas that had subconsciously aroused the suggestion of previous familiarity, and so, dismissing the matter from his mind, he went on about his affairs.
Geronimo rode back to the camp of the Be-don-ko-he in silence. It was as impossible for him to get the viewpoint of the white man as it was for the white man to get the viewpoint of the Apache. He felt that he had been treated with rank injustice and treachery. Geronimo was furious, yet his stern, inscrutable face gave no evidence of what was passing in his savage brain. He did not rant nor rave, raising his voice in loud oaths, as might a white man under stress of similar circumstance.
Geronimo dismounted before his hogan and turned to Shoz-Dijiji and the others who had accompanied him. “Tell the braves of the Be-don-ko-he that Geronimo is going away from San Carlos,” he said. “Perhaps they would like to come and talk with Geronimo before he goes.”
As the three braves rode away through the village Geronimo sat down before the entrance to his hogan. “Geronimo cannot live in peace with thieves and liars, Morning Star,” he said to his wife. “Therefore we shall go away and live as Usen intended that we should live. He never meant that we should live with the white-eyed men.”
“We are going on the war trail again?” asked Sons-ee-ah-ray.
Geronimo shook his head. “No,” he replied. “If they will leave Geronimo alone he will not fight the pindah-lickoyee again. Geronimo wishes only to lead his own life in his own way far from any pindah-lickoyee. In that way only lies peace.”
“Sons-ee-ah-ray will be glad to leave San Carlos,” said the squaw. “She will be glad to go anywhere to get away from the white-eyed men. They are bad. Their women are bad, and they think because their women are bad that the Apache women are bad. The white-eyed men make bad talk to Sons-ee-ah-ray when she passes them on her way to the Agency. She will be glad not to hear this talk any more.
“Geronimo knows that Sons-ee-ah-ray, the mother of his children, is a good woman. Why, then, do the white-eyed men talk thus to her?”
The War Chief shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “I do not understand the white-eyed men.”
When the warriors of the Be-don-ko-he gathered, many of the older men appeared apprehensive. They looked sad and worried but the young men were excited and gay. Many of the latter were already painting their faces, but when Geronimo saw this he frowned and shook his head.