Geronimo blurted, "Then we go to Arispe!"

"To Arispe!" Naiche echoed.

Mangus Coloradus asked haughtily, "Do warriors decide where the battle shall be fought?"

"I will fight the rurales who killed my wife, my mother, and my children," Geronimo said stubbornly. "If we must attack the people of Kas-Kai-Ya, that may come afterwards."

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.

In late afternoon of the third day following, they came before the walled town of Arispe.

They halted in a woods some five hundred yards from the town, and Geronimo's heart leaped as he stood beside Naiche. Again, in imagination, he saw his mother, his wife, his murdered children. A great joy rose within him at the knowledge that, only a short distance away, their murderers awaited. The Apaches had come upon Arispe so stealthily that the rurales couldn't possibly have fled. A battle was assured.

But their presence must be known soon, and when they were discovered they could expect action from Arispe. The sun was sinking when Naiche said:

"They come."

Eight townsmen bearing a white flag of truce left the walled town and walked toward the trees. Geronimo could not help admiring them. Eight Mexicans who approached any number of Apaches must be courageous.

"What would you do with them, brother?" Naiche asked, stepping closer to Geronimo.

"Hold them prisoner and force the rurales to come out to attempt a rescue," replied Geronimo. "Thus we may be sure of a battle."

"Their flag says they come to talk. It is not honorable to capture them."

"The rurales who slew our women and children at Kas-Kai-Ya were less than honorable too," Geronimo said grimly.

"That is true, but whether we capture or parley is for the chiefs to say. Let us hear."

They made their way to where Mangus Coloradus, Cochise, and Whoa awaited the eight townsmen. No Apache stirred until the Mexicans were so near the woods that there was no possible chance of their running back into Arispe. Then Mangus Coloradus ordered:

"Capture them so the rurales must try a rescue."

Geronimo and Naiche remained with the chiefs, for they scorned to fight townsmen. But other warriors ran forward. The Mexicans halted and grouped together, each man with his back against a companion's.

Pedro Gonzalez, one of those attempting the capture, said in Spanish, "Submit and you will not be hurt."

"You come to kill!" a Mexican snarled, and eight hands flew to knives.

The encircling warriors drew their own knives. Near-naked Apaches ringed the Mexicans and it was over. Pedro Gonzalez came to the chiefs.

"We would have captured them, but they chose to fight," he said.

"It is no matter," Cochise shrugged. "The rurales will come now for revenge."

The next morning some of the soldier police did come. Twenty horsemen galloped toward the woods where the Apaches were hiding, fired wildly into them, and retreated without hurting anyone. That evening the Apaches captured a Mexican supply train whose leaders knew nothing of the powerful war party concealed near the town. Besides a store of food, the Apaches took many guns and much ammunition.

At ten o'clock the next morning, the rurales came in force. Two companies of infantry in battle formation advanced toward the woods where the Apaches were still hidden. Two of cavalry were held in reserve just outside the town walls.

Lying near the chiefs, with Naiche on one side and Nadeze on the other, Geronimo poured powder into the cavernous muzzle of his shotgun. He emptied the pouch of beads on top of it, tamped them in with cloth, and primed the gun. Naiche grinned, understanding at last.

Nadeze exclaimed, "There are the murderers of Kas-Kai-Ya!"

"So?" Mangus Coloradus said calmly. "What think you, Cochise? What think you, Whoa? These enemies slew Geronimo's mother. They slew his wife. They slew his children. Should Geronimo lead the first attack?"

"It is well," Cochise murmured.

"It is just," Whoa agreed.

Geronimo turned to Naiche. "Take fifty warriors and go unseen into that strip of woods we see from here. Wait until the enemies are past and we have attacked. Then charge them from the rear."

"I go, brother," Naiche said grimly. "Good hunting."

When the rurales were four hundred yards away they stopped to fire. Those in front kneeled so that those behind could shoot over their heads. Keeping his men hidden, Geronimo noticed that every weapon was discharged.

The rurales fired a second volley from two hundred yards and, as before, every weapon was emptied. Now, before they could reload, was the time to take them.

Shotgun in one hand, lance in the other, Geronimo sounded the Apache war whoop and raced out of the woods toward the enemy. The Mexicans worked desperately with their guns, but fewer than half reloaded in time. The remainder drew sabers and awaited the attack.

When only fifty feet separated Geronimo from the Mexicans, he leveled his shotgun, cocked it, and fired. The weapon spewed its glass beads forth, and half a dozen Mexicans fell. Flinging the now-useless shotgun from him, Geronimo leveled his lance and raced on.

He saw Naiche and his warriors swarm out of the woods to attack from the rear. At the same time he saw the Mexican cavalry charge to the aid of their hard-pressed comrades.

An officer, saber raised, rode straight at Geronimo, determined to ride him down. Geronimo sidestepped, thrust with his lance, brought the officer out of his saddle, and lost his lance in doing so.