Blood of the Devil by W. Michael Farmer

Author:W. Michael Farmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gale, Cengage Learning
Published: 2017-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

THE WARNING

Tzoe, Dastine, Haskehagola, and I returned to our fires, but said little to answer the questioning stares from the other scouts. We were glad we didn’t have to shoot our way out of the Chiricahua camp and had come back alive and unharmed.

We had just finished a cup of coffee when we heard a yell in the shadows of the tall pine trees where the path up the ridge began. A Chiricahua warrior ran toward us, brandishing his rifle, pumping it toward the sun, and giving a loud, lusty chant of salute. Every scout who saw him cocked his rifle, ready to shoot if he tried to shoot first. He ran straight for Much Water’s fire. Much Water walked out to meet him, a frown of uncertainty painting his face. Nearing Much Water, the warrior laid down his rifle and unbuckled his bandolier of cartridges to toss them on the ground beside his rifle.

He ran up to Much Water and said, “My brother, you’ve been looking for me. Now I’m with you again as if I belong to you.”

A happy grin painted Much Water’s face, and they embraced. They walked back to Much Water’s fire and, sitting down, made a cigarette, smoked to the four directions, and began to talk. It felt as if a blinding fog had lifted from the camp and the sun had sent columns of light streaming to us.

Soon Chiricahua warriors from the top of the ridge were drifting into camp and sitting down at the fires of their women and children. By half the sun’s ride between the time of shortest shadows and dark, all the Chiricahua on the ridge, except the chiefs, had come in.

Nantan Lupan left our camp and went alone to hunt birds in tall grass on a slope nearby. When I said that Chiricahua who still hid might try to attack him, Sieber told us Nantan Lupan did this to show the Chiricahua he had no fear and that he was not getting ready to fight them. He had shot several birds when the chiefs rose up in the grass near him. One grabbed his shotgun, another, his sack of birds, and there he stood surrounded by the best fighting men the Apaches had.

Chato snarled, “You shoot toward us. You want war.”

Nantan Lupan looked them in the eye and shook his head. “I hunt only birds for my supper.” He smiled and said, “I couldn’t be shooting at you. Who can see an Apache who hides?”

Mickey Free saw the chiefs surround Nantan Lupan and snatch away his gun and birds. He ran down the slope and through their circle to the side of Nantan Lupan calling, “No shoot! No shoot,” waving his hands palms out to show he was also unarmed.

The chiefs relaxed a little, and Nantan Lupan said, “Mickey Free speaks true when he tells me your words and you mine. Let’s go down to the shade by the running water and speak together as friends.”

Chato looked at Geronimo, who gazed off down the valley and said nothing.

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