The chagrin of the troopers was that they were unable to force the raiders to the wall and make them fight. Could this have been done they might have administered an effectual chastisement that would have averted woful consequences. Geronimo and these hostiles were off the reservation and were not likely to return until after inflicting some of their fearful blows. The revolt would spread and not unlikely another miniature Indian war would follow, which, if it roused little interest further east, would have dreadful significance to those exposed to its consequences.
These were the gloomy reflections that accompanied the troopers on their return to Fort Reno, and there is little doubt that their fears would have become real, but for an unexpected series of events.
It so happened that at the very time Lieutenant Decker was engaged on his scout, a party of about the same strength was out from Fort McDowell, a considerable distance to the south. Rumors of the restlessness of the Apaches had reached them, and they discovered that a band were heading for the Sutra Valley. With no knowledge, however, that the notorious Geronimo was their leader, the cavalrymen made a determined and well-directed effort to bring the raiders to book.
They were fortunate enough to discover the fleeing hostiles when the latter were on the open plain, and the troopers had the concealment of a wooded and rocky range. Still better, the raiders headed almost directly for the point where the scouts were eagerly awaiting them.
The consequences were disastrous to the Apaches, who did not learn of their danger until the bullets of the troopers were doing their deadly work. The terrified wretches fled to the nearest cover, losing six of their number, while many others carried away serious wounds.
Geronimo himself met with an exceedingly narrow escape. He was slightly wounded by a rifle-ball and was barely able to elude two troopers who tried to run him down. Had either of them been aware of his identity at the time, that famous Apache would have scourged the border no more.
But, as will be seen, this was a severe blow to the raiders, among whom were a number that were much discouraged by the outcome. They had counted confidently upon one of their most delightful and soul-satisfying excursions, when not only human lives but much plunder should be at their disposal, but the survivors who rejoined their families carried the gloomy news that more than one-third of their number had been killed and there was absolutely nothing to show for it.
One beneficent result, therefore, of the affair was that a formidable insurrection was nipped in the bud. Maroz and Ceballos were among those who returned to the reservation, loud in their declarations that it was useless to fight the white man longer, and they had resolved to be good Indians henceforth and forever.
When these two Apaches were questioned about their presence with Geronimo, they replied just as Lieutenant Decker said they would. They had entered his camp, as ordered by the officer, their intention being to help the white people, but Geronimo compelled them to aid him. They had made believe to do so, but were only awaiting a favorable chance to desert to their real friends.
“I think,” said the lieutenant, “that we shall have trouble with those two fellows again. What do you say, Mendez?”