“I do not know,” said Shoz-Dijiji. “I think it has not turned to water, but it is very sad. Shoz-Dijiji learned at his mother’s breast to love nothing better than fighting the enemies of the Shis-Inday, but he did not learn to love to fight his own people. I think it made his heart sick that day that he saw White Mountain firing upon White Mountain, Cho-kon-en upon Cho-kon-en. That is not war, that is murder. “Every man’s hand is against us, but that Shoz-Dijiji did not mind. What he does mind is to know that our own hands are against us, too.” “Shoz-Dijiji has spoken true words,” said Kut-le. “It sickens the heart in the breast of a warrior to see brother and cousin fighting against him at the side of his enemies. “We know that we are surrounded by many soldiers. We cannot fight them. Perhaps we can escape them, but they will follow us. It will be hard to find food and water, for these things they will first try to deprive us of. “I think that we should make peace with our enemies. I have spoken.” Thus spoke Kut-le, the bravest of the renegades. Savage heads nodded approval. “Let us go to the camp of the white-eyed soldiers in the morning,” suggested one, “and lay down our weapons.” “And be shot down like coyotes,” growled Geronimo. “No! Geronimo does not surrender. He makes peace. He does not stick his head in a trap, either. We will send a messenger to Crawford to arrange a parley with Nan-tan-des-la-par-en. The heart of Crawford is good. He does not lie to the Shis-Inday. By the first light of Chigo-na-ay Shoz-Dijiji shall go to the kunh-gan-hay of the scouts and carry the message of Geronimo to Crawford. If he promises to protect us from the soldiers of the pindah-lickoyee and the Mexicans, we will accompany him north and hold a peace parley with Nan-tan-des-la-par-en.” He turned toward Shoz-Dijiji. “You have heard the words of Geronimo. When dawn comes go to Crawford. You will know what to say to him.” Chapter Eight Geronimo and Crook =C=RAWFORD’S Scouts were preparing to ride with the coming of the new day when there appeared upon a little eminence near their camp the figure of an Indian. Silent and erect it stood—a bronze statue touched by the light of the rising sun. Slowly, to and fro, it waved a white rag that was attached to the muzzle of a rifle. A scout called Crawford’s attention to the flag of truce; and the cavalry officer, bearing a similar emblem, went out alone and on foot toward the messenger, who now came slowly forward until the two met a couple of hundred yards from the camp. Crawford recognized the Black Bear and nodded, waiting for him to speak. “Shoz-Dijiji brings a message from Geronimo,” said the Apache. “What message does Geronimo send me?” asked the officer. Both men spoke in the language of the Shis-Inday. “Geronimo has heard that Nan-tan-des-la-par-en wishes to hold a parley with him,” replied Shoz-Dijiji.