Lieutenant Shipp and Chief Scout Horn conferred together. The Mexican messenger was told to get four or five men and return for the mules and rations. Lieutenant Shipp slipped around with his company of scouts, to a position where he might pour a deadly fire into the Mexican lines. When the five Mexicans returned to the camp, for the mules and rations, they were suddenly ringed about with carbine muzzles.
“Now,” spoke Chief Scout Horn, “you call to your comrades. Tell them that if our lieutenant is not released immediately, you will all be killed!”
“Hi!” cackled old Nana. “That is good. Yes, you will be killed. But we will not kill you quick. We will shoot you in many places, first.”
Carbine hammers clicked. Young Lieutenant Shipp’s scouts were crouched and aiming, ready. All the scouts were yelling, while the five Mexicans, calling piteously, pleaded that the lieutenant be released.
That, as Tom Horn said, “ended the row.” Here came the lieutenant, angry but safe. The five prisoners were allowed to scuttle back.
“They’re an ugly lot,” announced the lieutenant. “They have over thirty dead and a dozen wounded. Concepcion is still held. I’ve agreed to let them have six mules in exchange, so they can pull out.”
The mules were Mexican mules, but the lieutenant required a receipt for them, and the Mexican government paid the value of them to the United States.
The Mexicans finally withdrew. Scouts were sent out, on their trail, to watch them to a safe distance. The next morning, January 13, camp was broken.
Captain Crawford was living, but unconscious. Four of the scouts carried him in the litter. The trail was too rough and narrow for any other method. The Geronimo Chiricahuas had disappeared, but they stayed near. This evening Geronimo sent an old squaw into the new camp. He requested the talk that had been agreed upon for the day when the Mexicans had interrupted.
In the morning Lieutenant Maus took Tom Horn, Ka-e-ten-na, Dutchy, and two or three other scouts, and, all unarmed, met Geronimo in council.