Chigo-na-ay was an hour high when Shoz-Dijiji and Gian-nah-tah stood again before the rude hogan of Geronimo deep hid upon the rough breast of the Mother of Mountains. The old war chief listened in silence while they narrated with primitive fidelity every detail of their interview with the scout. “Fifty dollars for the head of a warrior, two thousand dollars for the head of Geronimo!” he exclaimed. “It is thus that they offer a bounty for the heads of wolves and coyotes. They treat us as beasts and expect us to treat them as men. When they war among themselves do they offer money for the head of an enemy? No! They reserve that insult for the Apache. “They will win because Usen has deserted us. And when they have killed us all there will be none to stop them from stealing the rest of our land. That is what they want. That is why they make treaties with us and then break them, to drive us upon the war trail that they may have an excuse to kill us faster. That is why they offer money for our heads. “Oh, Usen! what have the Shis-Inday done that you should be angry with them and let their enemies destroy them?” “Do not waste your breath praying to Usen,” said Gian-nah-tah. “Pray to the God of the pindah-lickoyee. He is stronger than Usen.” “Perhaps you are right,” said Geronimo, sadly. “He is a wicked God, but his medicine is stronger than the medicine of Usen.” “I,” said Shoz-Dijiji, “shall pray always to the god of my fathers. I want nothing of the pindah-lickoyee or their god. I hate them all.” A brave, moving at an easy run, approached the camp and stopped before Geronimo. “Soldiers are coming,” he said. “Their scouts have followed the tracks of Shoz-Dijiji and Gian-nah-tah.” “Only Apaches could trail us,” said Geronimo. “If our brothers had remained loyal and taken the war trail with us the pindah-lickoyee could not conquer us in a thousand rains.” “There is a place where we can meet them,” said the brave who had brought the word, “and stop them.” “I know,” replied Geronimo. He called four warriors to him. “Take the women and the boys,” he said, “and cross over the summit to the burned pine by the first water. Those of us who live will join you there after the battle.” Stripped to breech-cloth and moccasins, eighteen painted savages filed silently through the rough mountains. A scout preceded them. Behind Geronimo walked the Apache Devil, his blue face banded with white. Stern, grim, terrible men these—hunted as beasts are hunted, retaliating as only a cornered beast retaliates—asking no quarter and giving none. Equipped by civilization with the best of weapons and plenty of ammunition and by nature with high intelligence, courage, and shrewdness they had every advantage except that of numbers over any enemy that might take the field against them.