Tom Horn went in charge of some Tonto and Yuma trailers. The Lawton and Wood column made terrific marches; altogether, fourteen hundred miles. On July 13, three hundred miles into Mexico they surprised the Geronimo and Nah-che camp, as Captain Crawford had surprised it, the January before.
Nah-che had been wounded; he and Geronimo and their band barely escaped. They sent word to a Mexican woman (the wife of the interpreter José Maria Yaskes) that they desired to surrender.
It was a Crook man, after all—Lieutenant George Gatewood—who performed the bravest act; and a General Crook method that clinched the surrender. From Fort Apache the lieutenant, under orders by General Miles, traveled down with only Kah-yee-ta, the deserter, and Martinez, another Chiricahua, to find the hostile camp and talk with Geronimo. This was done. Lieutenant Gatewood’s life hung by a hair; but his talk had effect, for in the morning Geronimo, Nah-che, and their warriors surrendered to Captain Lawton.
Lieutenant Gatewood had been instructed to offer them no terms whatsoever, except that their lives would be spared; the captain offered the same terms.
Geronimo agreed to march along with the column, just as before. He and his men were still very suspicious, but he sent Porico up to General Miles as a pledge of good faith.
The general met him at the border, on September 3. Geronimo did not know that while he had been out, all the Chiricahuas upon the reservation—Chato, Ka-e-ten-na, and all—had been moved, and were started for Florida.
“This,” as Tom Moore explained to Jimmie, “took the sap out of him. He had no base of trouble, any more. Nah-che hadn’t come in with him, but he sent out after him, and the whole band—what there was left of them—were packed aboard the cars on September 8, and now they’re on their way, too. Let’s see—this is 1886. How long have you known Geronimo, anyhow?”
“Sixteen years,” said Jimmie.
“Well, you’ll never see him again.”
And Jimmie never did.