About eighty Nednhis scattered around the floor of the canyon. Haskell told them that General Willcox would treat them well as long as they were “good Indians,” that he had sent Haskell to meet with them, and that he would tell the general what they had said. With what trepidation Juh and Geronimo greeted Haskell’s assurances is suggested by his description of them as “suspicious” and “very wild.” Yet they allowed themselves to be escorted to Camp Rucker.
By the end of December, with more Nednhis in tow, Haskell had reached Fort Bowie and had a “big talk” with them. Tom Jeffords participated. The chiefs greeted him warmly and said all their people had now joined. Because of Juh’s stutter, Geronimo did most of the talking. Haskell wired Willcox that he had 102 “renegades” and eighteen agency Indians and that he expected to arrive at San Carlos in eight days.10
On January 7, 1880, the cavalcade reached the Nednhi camp near the San Carlos subagency. They erected their wickiups at a site near Naiche’s Chokonens designated by Captain Chaffee, still the acting agent. They had their new homes.
The Haskell episode ended one era in Geronimo’s life and began another. He had made his first breakout from San Carlos and returned once again to take up agency life. The second era would end only when he faced General Nelson A. Miles on September 3, 1886.
THIRTEEN
GERONIMO’S SECOND BREAKOUT, 1881
IN JANUARY 1880 GERONIMO and his personal following, mainly Bedonkohes, settled in with Juh and his Nednhis at the site designated by Captain Chaffee near the subagency on the north bank of the Gila, about fifteen miles upstream from the San Carlos Agency. The Chokonen camp of Naiche spread out nearby.
Naiche’s camp included not only the Cochise Chokonens but also the followers of Chief Chihuahua, a superior leader and a fierce fighting man who maintained his separate group among the Chokonens. Although shorter, lighter, and paler than Mangas and Cochise, he possessed the typical Apache physical attributes. About the same age as Geronimo, Chihuahua commanded greater admiration and respect. He followed no leader but himself. During 1880 and 1881, however, he was rarely present with Naiche’s people because he enlisted as an army scout at Fort Apache and served faithfully in the military operations against Victorio in 1879–80 and Nana in 1881.1
Other Indians drew rations at the subagency. The White Mountain Apaches, moved from the mountains to the north by John Clum in 1875, camped nearby. They followed the lead of two chiefs, George and Bonito. The latter was born a White Mountain Apache but had married into the Chiricahuas and lived now and then with them. But his life-way remained White Mountain, and so he considered himself. Clum had failed to move all the White Mountain Apaches, and many remained in their home ranges near Fort Apache.
The Chokonens and Nednhis were not the only Chiricahuas at San Carlos during 1880–81. The Chihennes of Loco, driven out of their Ojo Caliente Reservation in 1878 and forced to live at San Carlos, had erected their wickiups on the north bank of the Gila on a rise just across the San Carlos River from the agency. The agent placed them here so the police could keep an eye on them. They drew rations at the agency and made the best of the new life in the burning sands of San Carlos, accommodating to the reality that the government would never let them go back to their beloved home in New Mexico. With Victorio dead at Tres Castillos in October 1880, the peace chief Loco exercised the sole role of leadership.
The months after Geronimo and Juh came to San Carlos in January 1880 brought Geronimo conspicuously to the attention of officialdom and the public beyond Arizona for the first time. Physically, he was described in almost the same terms that Lieutenant Sladen used to characterize Cochise’s interpreter at the Howard peace council of 1872: erect, deep-chested, about five feet, nine inches in height, square shoulders, muscular, a face locked in a perpetual scowl. Hardly anyone thought well of him. “Thoroughly vicious, intractable, and treacherous,” pronounced one army officer. “Schemer and liar,” declared another. Feared, distrusted, disliked by his own people, said another. His personal following numbered scarcely thirty, but most of the Chiricahuas believed in his immense Power. He displayed these mysterious, surreal attributes often enough to convince the people of the strength of his Power. Also, he had ranged every mountain, desert, river, and trail in Apachería all his adult life, and he knew the country and how to live with and exploit it.2
The white man who knew Geronimo better than any other was George Wrattan, official interpreter, who traded and lived with the Chiricahuas for decades. According to Wrattan, “Geronimo came into prominence, not from his prowess in battle or personal bravery but from the great powers he was thought to have. He would prophecy victory in battle meeting soldiers defeating them, then getting something else; these prophecies which came true so often that his true word could become law. His own people were afraid of him.”3
The opinions of white observers found agreement in statements of many Chiricahuas, but not all. One of the rising leaders among Naiche’s people was Chatto (not to be confused with Geronimo’s son Chappo), who late in life would declare, “I have known Geronimo all my life up to his death and have never known anything good about him.”4
As Geronimo emerged as a public figure, therefore, the record reveals ample condemnation by white officials who observed him closely. His prominence, however, silenced critics among the Chiricahuas, many of whom belittled him after his surrender.
Although Geronimo maintained his close but subordinate role with Juh, he also drew nearer to Naiche. Geronimo had long since sized up the impressionable young chief, tall, handsome, and likable but at twenty-three not an effective leader. His people knew it, too, but respected his hereditary status as Cochise’s son. Geronimo edged into the vacuum in leadership and, always deferential, counseled Naiche.5
Neither Geronimo nor Juh had “surrendered” to Lieutenant Haskell. They had simply agreed to give up the warpath in Mexico and settle at San Carlos. Nothing in Geronimo’s attitude toward the whites, especially white oversight, had changed. The ordeal to which John Clum had subjected him in 1877 strengthened the already dominant suspicion, distrust, fear, and hatred that had prevailed since his years with Mangas Coloradas. At San Carlos both he and Juh remained alert to any sign of official perfidy, coiled to stampede to Mexico at the slightest provocation, real or imagined.
Throughout 1880 and most of 1881, however, the Chiricahuas, according to many observers, lived “contented” and “happy.” That overstated their temperament because periodic rumors portrayed Juh as dissatisfied and planning an outbreak. Moreover, the spring of 1880 brought another wave of “shaking sickness,” which greatly disturbed Naiche. They received regular rations, however, and seemed unlikely to make trouble.
Even the appeal of mysterious events among the White Mountain Apaches failed to lure the Chiricahuas from their apparent complacency. The Cibicue group of the White Mountains obtained a pass from the agent to spend the summer of 1881 on Cibicue Creek, forty-five miles northwest of Fort Apache. During the summer the Chiricahuas near the subagency learned of a chief and holy man on Cibicue Creek claiming powers to raise three dead chiefs to life. His name was Nakadoklini, and his dances and ceremonies at first aroused only casual notice from the authorities. Hardly any Chiricahuas, probably foreseeing trouble, heeded invitations to join with the Cibicue people.6
They made the right decision, because trouble did explode with a vengeance. During August 1881, civil and military officials grew alarmed at rumors that Nakadoklini plotted an uprising. Both the San Carlos agent, Joseph C. Tiffany, and the Department of Arizona commander, Brevet Major General Orlando Willcox, finally convinced themselves that the chief and holy man must be arrested. Orders went out from department headquarters instructing Colonel Eugene A. Carr, commanding Fort Apache, to take Nakadoklini into custody. With two troops of cavalry and a company of Indian scouts—ominously, including thirteen of Nakdoklini’s own Cibicue people— Carr arrived at the village on Cibicue Creek on August 30.
Whether the Ci
bicue Apaches adroitly set up an ambush or were harmless victims of a misconceived interference in their spiritual life is still debated. Nakadoklini surrendered, but his fighting men swarmed over Carr’s camp and set off a vicious battle. The Apache scouts mutinied and joined their brethren in the attack. Troopers shot Nakadoklini twice, killing him. Carr sustained casualties of one officer and six troopers killed and two wounded. He beat a hasty retreat out of the valley and marched overnight to reach Fort Apache in the afternoon of August 31.7
The Cibicue Indians, joined by other White Mountains, attacked Fort Apache itself but were readily driven off. They also killed and robbed white travelers and ranchers where they could be found. General Willcox, certain that he had a full-scale Indian uprising to contend with, appealed for fresh troops from other departments. They began arriving early in September, and their hurried movements in the Gila Valley distressed the Chokonens at the subagency. They knew of Cibicue, but they did not know the purpose of all the soldiers. Agent Tiffany’s reassurance failed to quiet the suspicion of Geronimo and Juh.
Meantime, General Willcox established his headquarters at Fort Thomas, up the Gila from the subagency, and set about organizing a massive three-pronged offensive against an enemy that had long since scattered to hiding places in the mountains or come to San Carlos to surrender. Willcox also wanted to arrest the White Mountain chiefs George and Bonito. He and the subagent, however, differed on the means of their surrender. They shuffled the two chiefs back and forth between Fort Thomas and the subagency. Finally, losing patience, Willcox ordered a large force of cavalry to descend on the subagency and arrest them. That triggered the flight of the two chiefs. On the night of September 30, 1881, George and Bonito stormed into the Chiricahua camp and proclaimed that the soldiers were coming to arrest and shackle the chiefs and kill all the people.
Alarmed by Chief George, the Chiricahua chiefs at once met in council. Juh and Geronimo, camped with the Nednhis nearby, came over to participate. As Chatto later recalled, “Geronimo was just like a wild animal. Troops made him nervous.”8 The alarm created by George and Bonito made Geronimo more wild than nervous. It made Juh “very much excited.” Juh and Geronimo dominated the council. Although reluctant to leave, Naiche and Chihuahua both deferred. Chatto fell in with the majority. One chief dissented but was ignored.9
At 10:30 p.m. on September 30 Juh, Geronimo, Naiche, Chatto, and Chihuahua, with seventy four-men and their families—two hundred Chokonens, eighty-nine Bedonkohes, and eighty-six Nednhis—stole quietly away from their camp and headed south. Half the subagency people remained in camp. George, who had stirred up the fuss, at the last minute refused to join the outbreak. Bonito and his band of Chokonens, Bedonkohes, and a few White Mountains went along.10
The usual Chiricahua route to Mexico lay northeast to Eagle Creek, down to the Gila, then southeast into the Peloncillo Range all the way to Mexico. Shrewdly, the Chiricahuas did not choose this path. They knew the country to the east swarmed with troops, looking for hostile White Mountains. So they struck directly south, more dangerous because of open valleys but presumably not yet full of soldiers.
Soldiers would soon be on their trail, the leaders knew. About twelve miles up the Gila, they turned abruptly south and, to confuse any pursuers, broke into four groups, headed by Juh, Naiche, Chatto, and Bonito. As chief of the Nednhis, Juh led the group that included Geronimo, who took charge of his Bedonkohes. Circling widely, the leaders arranged to come together again at Black Rock, a prominent landmark in the northern foothills of the Santa Teresa Mountains.
En route, Geronimo took a raiding party that hit two freight trains and a ranch and made off with fifty horses and mules. He rejoined the exodus at Black Rock.
South from Black Rock, the united groups camped the night of August 1 in the eastern foothills of the Santa Teresa Mountains. The next day the breakouts took to the road pointing south to Fort Grant and Willcox, which with the arrival of the Southern Pacific Railroad had become a major shipping point for freight destined for the forts and agencies to the north. The men followed the road, while the women and children threaded the foothills of the Pinaleño Mountains to the east. Cavalry and Apache scouts out of Fort Thomas pushed down the road behind them, but not close enough to prevent depredations. A number of travelers met death, but the worst disaster befell a Mexican freight train headed for San Carlos—twelve wagons, 108 mules, fourteen thousand pounds of goods, and the teamsters. The Chiricahua fighters pounced on the train, slew all the teamsters, and made off with much of the contents. A volley from a nearby hill signaled troops approaching, so the Apaches beat a hasty retreat to the south.
Soon they spotted four soldiers repairing the telegraph line to Fort Grant. After killing them and plundering their bodies, the Apaches, aware of the close pursuit, drew into the Pinaleño foothills to the east, where the women and children were traveling, and prepared an ambush. As the cavalry halted and dismounted to examine the bodies, the Chiricahuas loosed a deadly volley and set off a six-hour exchange of gunfire—the Battle of Cedar Springs.
Needing to get their families to safety, the leaders launched a vigorous flank attack that ended the battle. They then left the road and hastened the people around the battlefield on the south and into the Aravaipa Valley to the west. On the night of October 2, they made camp in an open valley in the shadow of the Galiuro Mountains. The next day, October 3, the men fanned out across the valley, stealing horses from the Hooker ranch, while the families moved among the foothills of the Galiuro and Winchester Mountains. They made camp that night at Point of Mountains, the southern flank of the Winchesters, just north of Willcox.
Since putting the Cedar Springs fight behind them, the Chiricahuas, even though in open country, appeared to have an unopposed flight south through the Sulphur Springs Valley, thence across the border into Mexico. No forts barred the way. Skirting Willcox on the west, the Apaches entered familiar territory—their old home country of the Sulphur Springs Valley and Dragoon Mountains. By midmorning they came on a herd of cattle near Cochise’s East Stronghold and stopped to butcher meat. The women began to set up camp. Suddenly a burst of gunfire startled everyone; believing they were safe, they had let their guard down. Actually, the gunfire was a premature volley from Indian scouts, and it ruined a surprise attack by three troops of cavalry. Even so, the troopers soon charged the Chiricahuas, and three troops of the veterans of Cedar Creek joined the fray. The Apaches had failed to spot them because they had climbed aboard railroad cars at Willcox. At the summit of Dragoon Pass, they had debarked and turned back into the valley to pick up the Chiricahua trail.
At the first blast of gunfire, the Apaches stampeded, abandoning their camp with all its stock and contents and skirmishing south among the southern foothills on the Dragoon Mountains. Finally, the men chose a canyon defensive position and stopped the attacking soldiers. The troopers pulled back and bivouacked for the night. The morning of October 5 revealed the Indians all gone. During the night, they had traveled swiftly across the Sulphur Springs Valley, threaded a pass in the Swisshelm Mountains, and made good their escape into Mexico by way of the old Peloncillo route.11
The four-day flight had been masterfully conducted by tough and seasoned leaders—even Naiche rising to new strength—and had successfully brought the people into Mexico. As slightly subordinate to Juh, Geronimo supported his friend in decision-making and fighting. His particular adventures remain unrecorded, but his ferocity as a fighter undoubtedly placed him in the forefront of the fights at Cedar Springs and the Dragoon Mountains.
When the Apaches started, most of the soldiers were to their north and east, preoccupied with the White Mountain Apaches, but the military adapted quickly and soon had ample strength deployed behind and, finally, in front of them. It was to no avail. The fugitives easily evaded them and slipped across the border.
The Southwest again confronted the specter of a renewal of the old outrages committed by Apaches based in Mexico.12
FOURTE
EN
GERONIMO ABDUCTS LOCO, 1882
HAVING THROWN OFF ALL the army could mobilize against them and found safety in Mexico, the Apaches moved directly to Juh’s old refuge in the Carcay Mountains, near Janos. Shortly afterward, they teamed up with Nana. After his summer raid into New Mexico to avenge Victorio, he and his Warm Springs Chihennes returned to the Sierra Madre. Juh and his cohorts lost no time in linking with Nana and reaching agreement to cooperate, which they cemented with a nighttime feast and dance. Combined, the followers of Nana and Juh numbered between 425 and 450 people.1
The chiefs talked over their future course. They resolved to approach Chihuahuan authorities and once again open peace talks. They carried out this initiative, but in practice they alternated between talking with Mexicans and extensive raiding. Juh led his fighters up and down the east side of the Sierra Madre, while Geronimo, propelled by his usual hatred of Sonora, ravaged the west side of the mountains. Nothing came of the peace talks with Chihuahua.
Another topic, however, engaged the early councils—the continued presence at San Carlos of the Warm Springs Chihennes following the lead of the peace chief Loco. Except for Loco’s people and some Chokonens and Bedonkohes who had remained behind, all the Chiricahuas had now based themselves in Mexico. Should Loco be there, too? Why? Adding more women and children to the numbers to be fed seemed to make little sense. But some resented the supposedly well-fed “contentment” with which the Warm Springs Chihennes lived at San Carlos. Others simply wanted to be reunited with kinfolk. Geronimo declared that he needed Loco’s men to strengthen the Apaches in their battles with the growing number of Mexican troops—a thin rationalization since only thirty-two unarmed men lived with Loco. As one of the most belligerent of the leaders, Geronimo also savored the thought of a massive descent on San Carlos to force Loco to break away. That also appealed to many of the young fighting men.2
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