“What did he say?” asked the captain. “The general wishes to know.”
“He say: ‘Me can’t see ’um Chilicahua yet. Bimeby me see ’um. Me ketch ’um, me kill ’um. Me no ketch ’um, me no kill ’um. Chilicahua see me, me no get ’um. No see me, me ketch ’um. Me see ’um little bit now. Mebbe so six day me ketch ’um; mebbe so two day. Tomollow me send twenty-fibe men to hunt ’um tlail. Mebbe so tomollow see ’um more. Me ketch ’um hoss, me ketch ’um mool, me ketch ’um cow. Ketch Chilicahua pretty soon, bimeby. Kill ’um heap, an’ ketch ’um squaw.’”
That impressed the scouts. They were sure of success.
The signs grew fresher and fresher, and the trail worse and worse. But abandoned rancherias were found—and they had not been abandoned long, either! The eager scouts fairly ran hither-thither, searching and signaling; the cavalry-men toiled afoot, leading their horses; and the pack-mules, urged on by Jimmie and the other packers, coughed and slipped and sweat, and six of them rolled a thousand feet and were dashed to pieces.
But the general showed no token of quitting. He was after Geronimo.
Now it was the night of May 10. In the morning Captain Crawford and his scouts were going ahead, by themselves. Alchisé had insisted that this was the only way to do. He complained to the general that the soldiers and the pack-trains were too slow, to catch the Chiricahuas.
Frank Monach came into camp from a reconnoiter with a few of the soldiers and the huskier packers. Jimmie could not go. His leg was rather bad.
“B’gosh, we found where a passel o’ Mexicans had been wiped out with rocks an’ arrows an’ lances,” announced Frank. “Over yonder in the foothills. They must have come in from the other side.”
This night the scouts were very busy, making medicine and mending moccasins and preparing meat and bread.
“Medicine man say ‘Kill ’um heap Chilicahua, three day from tomollow,’” declared young “Keet,” proud of his English words.