Geronimo His Own Story
Part I: The Apaches
Part II: The Mexicans
Part III: The White Men
Part IV: The Old And The New
Part II: The Mexicans
Geronimo's Mightiest Battle
After the treachery and massacre of Casa Grande we did not reassemble
for a long while and when we did we returned to Arizona. We remained
in Arizona for some time, living in San Carlos Reservation, at a
place now called Geronimo. In 1883 we went into Mexico again. We
remained in the mountain ranges of Mexico for about fourteen months,
and during this time we had many skirmishes with Mexican troops.
In 1884 we returned to Arizona to get other Apaches to come with
us into Mexico. The Mexicans were gathering troops in the mountains
where we had been ranging, and their numbers were so much greater
than ours that we could not hope to fight them successfully, and
we were tired of being chased about from place to place.
In Arizona we had trouble with the United States soldiers and returned
We had lost about fifteen warriors in Arizona, and had gained no
recruits. With our reduced number we camped in the mountains north
of Arispe. Mexican troops were seen by our scouts in several directions.
The United States troops were coming down from the north. We were
well armed with guns and supplied with ammunition, but we did not
care to be surrounded by the troops of two governments, so we started
to move our camp southward.
One night we made camp some distance from the mountains by a stream.
There was not much water in the stream, but a deep channel was worn
through the prairie, and small trees were beginning to grow here
and there along the bank of this stream.
In those days we never camped without placing scouts, for we knew
that we were liable to be attacked at any time. The next morning
just at daybreak our scouts came in, aroused the camp, and notified
us that Mexican troops were approaching. Within five minutes the
Mexicans began firing on us. We took to the ditches made by the
stream, and had the women and children busy digging these deeper.
I gave strict orders to waste no ammunition and keep under cover.
We killed many Mexicans that day and in turn lost heavily, for the
fight lasted all day. Frequently troops would charge at one point,
be repulsed then rally and charge at another point.
About noon we began to hear them speaking my name with curses.
In the afternoon the general came on the field and the fighting
became more furious. I gave orders to my warriors to try to kill
all the Mexican officers. About three o'clock the general called
all the officers together at the right side of the field. The place
where they assembled was not very far from the main stream and a
little ditch ran out close to where the officers stood. Cautiously
I crawled out this ditch very close to where the council was being
held. The general was an old warrior. The wind was blowing in my
direction, so that l could hear all he said, and I understood most
of it. This is about what he told them:
"Officers, yonder in those ditches is the red devil Geronimo
and his hated band. This must be his last day. Ride on him from
both sides of the ditches; kill men, women, and children; take no
prisoners; dead Indians are what we want. Do not spare your own
men; exterminate this band at any cost; I will post the wounded
shoot all deserters; go back to your companies and advance."
Just as the command to go forward was given I took deliberate aim
at the general and he fell. In an instant the ground around me was
riddled with bullets; but I was untouched. The Apaches had seen.
From all along the ditches arose the fierce war-cry of my people.
The columns wavered an instant and then swept on; they did not retreat
until our fire had destroyed the front ranks.
After this their fighting was not so fierce, yet they continued
to rally and re-advance until dark. They also continued to speak
my name with threats and curses. That night before the firing had
ceased a dozen Indians had crawled out of the ditches and set fire
to the long prairie grass behind the Mexican troops. During the
confusion that followed we escaped to the mountains.
This was the last battle that I ever fought with Mexicans. United
States troops were trailing us continually from this time until
the treaty was made with General Miles in Skeleton Canyon.
During my many wars with the Mexicans I received eight wounds,
as follows: shot in the right leg above the knee, and still carry
the bullet; shot through the left forearm; wounded in the right
leg below the knee with a saber; wounded on top of the head with
the butt of a musket; shot just below the outer corner of the left
eye; shot in left side, shot in the back. I have killed many Mexicans;
I do not know how many, for frequently I did not count them. Some
of them were not worth counting. It has been a long time since then,
but still I have no love for the Mexicans. With me they were always
treacherous and malicious. I am old now and shall never go on the
warpath again, but if I were young, and followed the warpath, it
would lead into Old Mexico.
Part III: The White Men
Previous Page - Heavy Fighting