And even as he finished, he knew that hoddentin was not enough.
Geronimo was not so blinded by the ways of the Apaches that he was unable to see for himself that other people had better ways. Often he had seen rurales so badly wounded that he thought they could never fight again. Yet, in a later skirmish, he had fought the same rurales, and apparently they were as whole as before.
With the rest of the nearby Mimbreno braves too stricken to do anything, and no sub-chief near, Geronimo took charge.
He said, "Make a litter."
"Where do we go with my father?" asked Mangas, son of Mangus Coloradus.
"To the Mexican medicine man at Janos," Geronimo said.
Mangas said, "The Mexicans are enemies."
"That I know," Geronimo grunted.
He paid no more attention to Mangas. Though a brave warrior, the son of Mangus Coloradus lacked the qualities that made his father great. When he was forced to make an important decision, Mangas was never able to decide on the wise course and always trembled between the two.
Geronimo was not a chief, but the other warriors obeyed him now because he acted like one. Some went to fashion a litter of deer skins or deer-skin jackets stretched between cottonwood poles. Some went to rally the rest of the Mimbreno warriors. As word reached the followers of Mangus Coloradus they gathered around their stricken chief.