Naiche growled, "I fight beside my friend."
"We will all go to Arispe," Mangus Coloradus said. "We will start at once. For in truth we must fight the rurales who massacred our people."
"I shall tell Cochise," Naiche said.
Mangus Coloradus said, "Ask Cochise to inform Whoa. Tell both that we join forces before Arispe."
"I shall inform Whoa," Naiche promised.
Naiche disappeared in the darkness. The word spread like wind-driven wildfire, and warriors prepared to march. Nobody was mounted. Even with almost a year to make ready, there had not been enough time to capture war horses for everyone. Besides, so great a number of horsemen would be far easier to detect than foot soldiers, so nobody rode.
Geronimo felt in the darkness to make sure his knife was at his belt. In turn he fingered his powder horn, the pouch of beads, his parcel of jerked meat, and his parcel of parched corn.
He hung over his shoulder the blanket that served him as bed by night and clothing by day. Like all the rest of the warriors, he was going into battle wearing as little clothing as possible, and the blanket would be flung aside when the fight started. Taking his lance in his left hand, Geronimo carried his shotgun in his right hand.
Mangus Coloradus said, "Lead on."
Geronimo strode into the darkness. Partly because he knew Mexico so well, and partly because of his marvelous sense of direction, he had been appointed guide for the entire expedition.