Geronimo was confronted by a lanky man whose only garment was a tattered _serape_, or blanket-like robe, that was draped over one shoulder and pinned at the sides with thorns. His hair looked as though it hadn't been combed in years, his beard was as tangled. His body was dirty. His eyes were both cunning and humble. In sharp contrast were the fierce eyes of a golden eagle that the Mexican had imprisoned in a wooden cage. In spite of broken and bedraggled feathers, the eagle still looked royal. The Mexican lifted the cage. "See?" he whined. "See, Señor Apache? Grieved though I must be to part with anything so precious, this noble bird is yours for only three horses." Geronimo brushed haughtily past the man and walked on. The peddler called anxiously, "Will you give me some mescal?" Geronimo's eyes expressed his disgust. If wild things were not meant for the wilds, the god, Usan, would not have placed them there. They might be hunted for food but never should any be imprisoned. "Some tobacco?" the eagle's captor wailed. Geronimo turned, glared, and the Mexican scurried away. Geronimo continued his unhurried walk. Kas-Kai-Ya was truly remarkable, largely, Geronimo thought, because so many people could live in such a small area. They were so crowded that Geronimo wondered how they kept from suffocating each other. He saw a man lying with his head on a chunk of adobe, the same sun-dried brick from which the town walls and all the buildings were fashioned. Suddenly the man leaped up and began to scream. Other Mexican men, women, even children at once started to scream or shout as loudly as they could. The clamor was deafening. The amazed Apaches halted and gaped. After a bit, assuring himself that this senseless yelling must be a sickness suffered by those who allow themselves too little room, Geronimo went on. Presently he halted beside a Mexican who had a basket supported by a ragged rope over one shoulder. The basket was divided into compartments and filled with glass beads that were separated according to color. [Illustration: _He halted beside a Mexican_] The beads were so fascinating that Geronimo scarcely knew that the horrible din had quieted. He caught up a half dozen assorted beads and one by one put them back in the proper compartments. He took out his pouch of gold. But though he yearned for the beads, and would gladly have given all his gold for them, he was too good a trader to offer everything at once. Geronimo dropped two small nuggets onto the palm of his hand and held them out. "No," the bead vendor refused. But excitement made him breathe hard, and he could not take his eyes from the pouch. Geronimo gave him two more nuggets. The Mexican gasped and Geronimo thought he was once more refusing. Recklessly he poured half the gold into the bead vendor's palm. The Mexican moaned, slipped the basket from his own shoulder and hung it on Geronimo's, cupped the gold with both hands, and ran.