Jimmie at last reported his arrival to Lieutenant Shipp.
“Yes, I’ve seen you,” answered the lieutenant. “You did well, but,” he frankly added, “we’re all in a bad fix. If there’s war between the United States and Mexico, our pack-trains are likely to be captured; and while we’re fighting our way north, carrying Captain Crawford, there’ll be nothing to prevent the scouts from joining the other Chiricahuas and all together making off to do as they please. Where’s the doctor? Lieutenant Maus has been asking for him.”
Doctor Davis and Concepcion came in, agog to know what had occurred. They had heard the firing, again, and had hidden until it had stopped.
The doctor attended to the captain, and reported that he could not live long. The other wounded were patched up. The Mexicans needed a doctor, and he went over to them, as was his duty.
He was gone some time. On his return he said that the Mexicans had many killed and wounded, but that he had been badly treated, with scowls and insulting language.
Some of the Geronimo Chiricahuas were in sight, waiting. The officers did not think it advisable to hold a council with them until the Mexicans had been disposed of. Only old Nana was still tottering about, cackling among the scouts. He was harmless.
“Give us the orders, and we will clean the earth of those Mexicans,” implored Chato and Ka-e-ten-na, of Tom Horn. “Then we will all have plenty of pinole (which was meal) and bullets.”
Another cold, rainy night settled down early. Lieutenant Maus directed that camp be broken at daylight, for the march north. Captain Crawford should be moved at once, and the pack-train that had been left must be protected. After that, the Chiricahuas who did not surrender would be hunted again.
In the morning, while a litter of reeds from the river was being made, for carrying the captain, old Concepcion, who had been rounding up some ponies, called that the Mexicans had him and demanded a talk with the commanding officer.
Lieutenant Maus again met a squad. They led him aside, behind some rocks, as if to get shelter from the rain—and presently a Mexican brought a note from him. The note stated that he, too, was a prisoner, until he could show papers to prove that he had permission to “invade” Mexico. The Mexicans insisted also upon a supply of food, and mules for their wounded.