Jimmie was the pack-master, little Francisco (a Mexican boy) was arriero or muleteer; the train was composed of Shosh (Bear), a big black shepherd dog, Pete, a yellow hound dog, and Two-bits, just dog.
Shosh already had learned to carry a pack and pack-rigging, dog size. He was a real “bell sharp.” Two-bits was still an unruly “shave tail,” and the yellow Pete was so lazy that he ranked as only a “drag tail.” But they furnished good practice for Jimmie.
Now Joe, returning from a trip down to Tucson, brought startling news. Cochise was “out” again! Even little Francisco looked alarmed.
“Are all the Chiricahua out, Joe?”
“Cochise an’ Geronimo an’ nigh two hundred more of ’em. That pesky Colyer man on his way back to the States got the Government to move all the ’Paches from whar they were comf’table in the Warm Spring country to another part o’ the New Mexico country called the Tularosa; an’, by jinks, Cochise said he wouldn’t go—an’ he didn’t go! He took his Chiricahua an’ lit out for his old stampin’-ground in Arizony. So the word’s been passed to watch for trouble.”
Joe stalked on, muttering, to carry some purchases into the house. Jimmie the pack-master and little Francisco the arriero dismissed their pack-train and quit for the day. The knowledge that Cochise and Geronimo and their shifty Chiricahuas had left the Cañada Alamosa reservation, where they had been staying with Chief Victorio’s Warm Spring band, and had joined the fighting Chiricahuas who had stayed “wild,” cast a shadow upon foolery.
“Will the great General Crook march against them now?” asked Francisco, his black eyes round and large.
“Who knows?” responded Jimmie, in Spanish. “There’s a new peace man coming from Washington. Then if the Chiricahua will not listen to peace, they will hear war. Bueno!”
“Bueno (Good)!” piped Francisco. “Will you take me, Jeem?”