Geronimo

by Robert M. Utley

  Back in their mountain refuge of Bugatseka, Sonora, the people settled into camps among ridges and canyons so treacherous they doubted that Mexican troops could penetrate. Juh, however, grew nervous and led about 350 people, including Naiche, Chatto, Bonito, and Loco, into more rugged country to the south, near the Aros River. Geronimo and Chihuahua, with about 250 people, stayed at Bugatseka. Here they maintained their base camp for the first six months of 1883. Throughout January 1883 Geronimo and Chihuahua led a raiding party west to villages along the Bavispe and Yaqui Rivers and returned with ample plunder and fresh herds of stock.11

  Juh had likewise launched some devastating raids in Sonora during December 1882 and January 1883. Still more fearful of Mexican troops than Geronimo, after the raids he decided to relocate his winter camp from Guaynopa to another mountain hideout about twenty-five miles to the west, in Sonora. On January 24, 1883, Mexican troops, most of them deadly Tarahumari Indians on the Mexican payroll, found him. They launched a surprise dawn attack, sweeping through the ranchería. Juh’s young son Daklugie, awakened by a blazing brush arbor, emerged from his wickiup to see charging horsemen. “They dashed through the camp, firing as they came.” The people grabbed their children and ran from the camp. Once secured, the men returned to battle the Mexicans but failed to drive them out. The Chiricahuas lost fourteen dead, and the Mexicans took away thirty-seven captives. The dead included Juh’s wife and son-in-law and Bonito’s wife and child. Among the captives were Chatto’s wife and two children and two wives and two children of Geronimo’s (one must have been the nameless Chiricahua/Nednhi who later appears under the name Mañanita, the other Shitsha-she). Among Juh’s personal following only four fighters still lived.12

  Juh had never sustained such a devastating defeat or such a huge personal loss. He never regained his stature as a tribal leader or his own self-esteem. The destitute survivors straggled into Geronimo’s stronghold at Bugatseka. Geronimo was now clearly the supreme leader, even though Juh pretended that he retained his former influence.

  With provisions and rifles and ammunition running low, the Chiricahuas at Bugatseka plotted two raids to remedy the shortages. Geronimo and Chihuahua led seventy-five to eighty men in a sweep through towns along the Sonora River, their objective to obtain stock and provisions. Chatto and Bonito led twenty-six men in a raid through southern Arizona to gather weapons and cartridges.13

  Not since Geronimo had descended on San Carlos and spirited Loco and his people back to Mexico in April 1882 had any depredations fallen on southern Arizona. All the Chiricahua plunders until Chatto’s raid in late March 1883 had fallen on Chihuahua and Sonora. Taken by surprise, army units in Arizona and New Mexico scrambled in futile search for the Chiricahuas.14

  Chatto’s raiders crossed the boundary near the Huachuca Mountains and swept east across southern Arizona and into New Mexico. They killed anyone they encountered and struck at any target likely to yield arms and ammunition. In six days they traveled four hundred miles, killed eleven whites, lost one man and another who deserted to return to San Carlos, and slipped back into Mexico with stolen stock and large quantities of arms and ammunition. Not a soldier had seen them.

  Geronimo and Chihuahua and Chatto and Bonito had vastly surpassed their purpose. The triumphant raids in Sonora, combined with those in Arizona and New Mexico, provided all the Chiricahuas in Bugatseka needed, and more. Euphoric, they celebrated with dances, feasts, and ceremonies.

  Little did they know of the forces gathering in Arizona that would drown their euphoria.

  SIXTEEN

  GERONIMO CONFRONTS CROOK IN THE SIERRA MADRE, 1883

  THE GENERAL WHO REPLACED Orlando Willcox as commander of the Department of Arizona on September 4, 1882, brought a fresh and unorthodox persona back to Arizona, after a five-year absence. Making extensive use of Indian scouts and pack trains, in 1872–73 Brigadier General George Crook had defeated and rounded up all the Apaches but the Chiricahuas, who had remained safe on the Chiricahua Reservation established by General O. O. Howard.

  Unlike other generals, Crook believed that only an Apache could catch an Apache, so he placed more confidence in Apache scouts than regular troops. He also regarded pack mules rather than wagon trains as the key to mobility; mules could go anywhere, wagons could not. Unorthodoxy likewise dominated his character and appearance. He closely held his own counsel, rarely sharing his views and plans even with his staff. He rode a mule and carried a shotgun. As a lieutenant assigned to Fort Apache in 1884 recalled in retirement: “Crook was not particular in dress. He loved being in the field but then delighted in accompanying the pack train, dressing as the packers did, in a dirty brown canvas suit, with his flowing beard in two braids, wrapped in red tape. He slept and ate with the packers.”

  Young officers did not particularly like Crook, according to this source. A story made the rounds that Crook had once said of officers just out of West Point that he “had more use for a good pack mule than a second lieutenant.” Yet he relied heavily on bright junior officers who demonstrated insight into Indian culture, and he knew how to command their respect.1

  Crook parted with almost all who dealt with Apaches in sympathizing with their mistreatment by the government. After touring the White Mountain Reservation shortly after taking command, he wrote that only after a second visit could he get his old enemies to talk frankly with him. “The simple story of their wrongs,” he reported, “as told by the various representatives of their bands, under circumstances that convinced me they were speaking the truth, satisfied me that the Apaches had not only the best of reasons for complaining, but had displayed remarkable forbearance in remaining at peace.” He added, “They have been openly plundered of the supplies provided them by the Government and they spoke with bitterness of nearly every one of their agents.”2

  Crook chose two enterprising junior officers to command Indian scouts: Captain Emmet Crawford at San Carlos and Lieutenant Charles B. Gate-wood at Fort Apache. He instructed them to discharge all the scouts and recruit new companies to oversee conditions on the reservations. When not actually in the field, they were to live with their native groups, the better to keep them under observation. Crawford and Gatewood were to report directly to Crook.3

  Emmet Crawford would play a vital role in Crook’s operations for three years. Tall, dedicated to his profession, smart, and physically imposing, he enjoyed the confidence and respect of his men. Duty above all ruled his actions, and he could not be deflected from what he considered his duty.4

  Gatewood, “tall, spare, of extraordinary endurance, patient and fearless,” had commanded an Apache scout company since the Victorio War. He knew Apaches better than any other officer. They liked and respected him. Often in ill health, he strove so hard to protect the reservation from white encroachments that he became entangled in civil litigation. His frequent absence performing what were the civil agent’s responsibilities and fighting lawsuits alienated General Crook.5

  Crook’s most challenging problem lay not with the reservation Indians but with the Chiricahuas in Mexico. They had to be dug out of the Sierra Madre and returned to the reservation. Even before Chatto’s devastating raid sparked outrage in Arizona and New Mexico, Crook had begun to put in place his plan for accomplishing that mission.

  A stroke of good fortune awarded Crook a reliable guide into the Chiricahua strongholds. On March 31, 1883, Lieutenant Britton Davis, another bright young officer trusted by Crook, arrested the Chiricahua (a White Mountain married to a Chiricahua) who had slipped away from the Chatto-Bonito raiding party and made his way to San Carlos. He was Tzoe, but his light complexion led whites to name him “Peaches.” Tzoe knew the Sierra Madre intimately, and he knew where the Chiricahuas most likely would be found. He agreed to serve as Crook’s guide.6

  Other priorities challenged Crook as he based himself in Willcox and began to assemble his expedition. He had orders from General Sherman to ignore departmental and national boundaries. The United States and Mexico had
concluded a treaty providing for the troops of both nations to cross the border when “in hot pursuit.” Clearly, Crook would not be in hot pursuit when he crossed the border. He therefore visited the governors and ranking military officers of both Sonora and Chihuahua and found them not only receptive to his crossing but eager to cooperate.

  Another daunting priority was to find Charley McComas. In the last stages of their foray, the Chatto-Bonito raiders had spotted a buckboard parked beneath a tree on the road from Silver City to Lordsburg, New Mexico. Its occupants had spread a picnic lunch on the ground and rested as they ate. They were Judge Hamilton C. McComas, his wife, and their six-year-old son, Charley. The family saw the approaching Indians, jumped back in the buckboard, and turned back toward Silver City. The Apaches easily gunned down the judge, smashed his wife’s skull, and took Charley captive. Bonito claimed the boy, and as the Indians rode away, Charley bounced behind Bonito on his mount, tied to his captor’s belt with a piece of rope.7

  More than any of the other depredations of Chatto and Bonito, the slaughter of the McComas family enraged Arizonans and New Mexicans; they knew nothing of Crook’s impending expedition, but they demanded that he find and liberate young Charley. The general and his officers felt deep sympathy for the boy and determined to do all in their power to discover his fate.

  While Crook conferred with authorities in Mexico, a formidable force of cavalry assembled at Willcox. Lieutenant Gatewood, who had been ordered to enlist seventy more scouts at San Carlos (San Carlos Apaches, neither Chiricahua nor White Mountain), arrived with the scouts. Captain Crawford already had his scouts on the border. When Crook returned to Willcox, the command moved quickly to the boundary at San Bernardino Springs. Crawford and his scouts had arrived, as had more cavalry, affording Crook nine troops, with more expected. He distributed the cavalry along the boundary to block any attempt of the Chiricahuas to raid again in Arizona. He took with him into Mexico on May 1, 1883, one troop of cavalry (forty-two strong) under Captain Adna R. Chaffee and 193 Apache scouts under Captain Crawford and Lieutenant Gatewood. Crook considered the scouts, not the cavalry, the key to success, and his pack train of more than 350 mules and seventy-six packers the key to penetrating the heart of the Sierra Madre. Among others in Crook’s entourage were his longtime aide, Lieutenant John G. Bourke; Chief of Scouts Al Sieber, aided by Archie McIntosh and Sam Bowman; and Interpreter Mickey Free (the youth Lieutenant Bascom accused Cochise of abducting, reared by Apaches).8

  The route lay down the San Bernardino River, then up the eastern arm of the Bavispe River. The column made its way through riverside villages such as Bavispe, Bacerac, and Huachenera. Bourke described them as squalid and the inhabitants impoverished, victims of repeated Apache raids.

  On May 7 the expedition turned east, toward the dark, forbidding heights pointed to by Peaches. Day after day, exhausted and dripping sweat, the men labored up and down in terrain nearly beyond endurance. One looming ridge after another, each separated by a deep canyon and each rising higher than the last, led into the heart of the Sierra Madre—country that more than one officer characterized as “indescribable.” Mules slipped on narrow trails and plunged to their deaths far below, taking precious supplies with them. The Apache scouts put the whites to shame. They sprinted about the slopes and into the forests, hunting game, finding increasingly abundant Chiricahua sign, and enjoyed the evening dancing and singing.9

  Peaches led them still farther up, to the sources of the Bavispe River and toward the place the Chiricahuas called Bugatseka. Crook advanced cautiously, basing his cavalry and packs at one site while Crawford and fifty of his scouts scoured the tangled ridges and gorges ahead. When Crawford sent word to move forward, Crook established another base as Crawford continued to scout. On May 15, a few eager young scouts came unexpectedly on two Chiricahuas and opened fire. They had uncovered the ranchería of Chatto and Bonito. All the fighting men had left on raids, but the scouts charged into the camp, firing as they went. They killed seven men (presumably, since they bore Winchester rifles) and captured two boys, one girl, and a young woman. The women had all fled, but the scouts burned twenty to thirty wickiups and brought back stock, provisions, and camp equipage.

  The capture of the ranchería could hardly be characterized as a battle, or even a skirmish. But it put Crook on notice that further campaigning was useless. Once alerted, the Chiricahuas would scatter and not allow themselves to be surprised again. The general had to call off the campaign or find another means to round up the Indians. A possible solution lay in his captives.

  The young woman claimed to be a daughter of Bonito. She said the Chiricahuas anxiously desired peace and had been talking of sending two emissaries to San Carlos to ask for terms. She added that her father had only recently returned from a raid. He had brought a little white boy, who was in the ranchería the scouts attacked. Crook gave the woman provisions and allowed her to take the older of the two boys and return to her people. He told her he would move camp to a place four miles distant, at the head of the Bavispe River, and wait for any overture the Apaches might make.10

  As Crook climbed into the Sierra Madre, his scouts repeatedly assured him that the Chiricahuas had not discovered his approach. In fact, they had not. The fate of the ranchería stunned and demoralized the chiefs as they learned of it; they were widely scattered raiding. They had thought their strongholds impregnable. That American troops had found them seemed unbelievable. Moreover, Apache scouts—although not Chiricahuas—had found and seized the ranchería. The Chiricahuas proved receptive, some even eagerly, to the peace overture borne by Bonito’s daughter.

  All the leaders except one were absent on raids when the scouts fell on the ranchería. He was Chief Chihuahua, the independent-minded war leader with his own following. During the Victorio War he had served as an army scout. Women and even a few men made their way down to Crook’s camp on the Bavispe. On May 17 a sister of Chihuahua appeared. She said Chihuahua would come in to talk if the general would send him a white horse that had been seized in the attack on the ranchería. Crook had the horse brought out and turned over to the woman. “Go to Chihuahua and tell him that we have only come to take his people back to San Carlos and not make war.”11

  Chihuahua appeared the next day, May 18, but in a spectacular manner. In the attack on the ranchería, a San Carlos Apache scout had shot and killed an old woman trying to surrender. She was Chihuahua’s aunt. Scout John Rope described the scene:

  We could see someone riding that white horse over some rocky places at the foot of the mountain. It was Chihuahua, and he rode fast to our camp. On the end of his horse’s tail was tied a strip of red cloth, and another strip of red cloth hung from under the bridle. In his belt he wore two pistols, and in his hand he carried a lance with a strip of red cloth tied around its end. He rode toward some of us scouts who were sitting under some oak trees. We all jumped up, not knowing what he intended to do. He asked where the head officer was, and we told him. Then he ran his horse right through us to Crook’s tent. He rode through soldiers and scouts alike, and they had to get out of his way. Mickey Free and Si-bi-ya-na [Serviano], who were interpreters, followed him to Crook’s place. Chihuahua got off his horse in front of the tent, and he shook hands with Crook. He said, “If you want me for a friend, why did you kill that old woman, my aunt? If I was trying to make friends with someone, I would not go and raid their camp and shoot their relatives. It seems to me that you are lying when you speak about being friends.” Now they gave him some tobacco and some food to take back with him. He got on his horse and rode off fast, right through us, the way he had come.12

  Unknown to Crook, the slaying of Chihuahua’s aunt had another consequence. No Chiricahua ever admitted it, but at Carlisle Indian School Chihuahua’s daughter, an eyewitness, told Jason Betzinez that the woman’s son “was so enraged by this that he turned, and using rocks, brutally killed the small white captive Charley McComas. The Apaches of this group later told the soldiers that the l
ittle boy had run off into the brush and was never found.” This finally emerged as the official conclusion, and it remained the standard belief until Betzinez told of the incident at Carlisle.13

  Despite his blustery entrance into Crook’s camp and his tough talk with the general, Chihuahua conceded that the discovery of the Chiricahua sanctuary by American soldiers and Apache scouts had convinced his people that returning to San Carlos was the best course of action. “It’s no good, all these scouts and soldiers here,” he had told his people. His decision, reached without consulting any other chiefs, had the desired effect. Chiricahua families began drifting into Crook’s camp each day, while Chihuahua departed to round up his people.

  The other chiefs had yet to appear. In fact, on the very day the scouts seized Chatto and Bonito’s ranchería, Geronimo and his men raided in Chihuahua about 120 miles distant. That night, around a campfire, Geronimo demonstrated the Power that gave him much of his influence. As Betzinez related it, “Geronimo was sitting next to me with a knife in one hand and a chunk of beef which I had cooked for him in the other. All at once he dropped the knife, saying, ‘Men, our people who we left at our base camp are now in the hands of U.S. troops! What shall we do?’ … I cannot explain it to this day, but I was there and I saw it.”14

  On the morning of May 20 Geronimo and a large following appeared on a rocky bluff above Crook’s camp. Unlike the blustery Chihuahua, who had galloped into Crook’s camp and castigated him, Geronimo hung back. He sent word to Crook that he wanted to talk with him. Crook dispatched Peaches to say that they could come in without fear. Throughout the day Chiricahuas dribbled in, adding to the many who had already gathered. Not until evening, however, could Geronimo bring himself to descend from the bluff. He sat on a log near Crook’s campfire as other leaders, a few at a time, seated themselves beside him. Finally Geronimo sidled up to Crook and, through Mickey Free, said he wanted to talk. Crook continued his meal without replying while Geronimo nervously waited. Finally, disdainfully, Crook pointed to all the Chiricahuas who had come in and invited Geronimo to observe how many of his own people had surrendered. He could do as he liked, “choose peace or war as you please.” Seemingly chastened, Geronimo returned to the log and waited while the general went about his business. After about an hour Geronimo tried again, pleading to be returned to San Carlos. Crook again waved him off with the admonition to surrender unconditionally or fight.15