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From their home in the Chiracahua Mountains they rode westward across the wide reaches of the Sulphur Springs valley to the ridges of the Catalinas away beyond the San Pedro, then turned southward, making their way toward Mexico by the Whetstone and the Huachuca ranges.
His other riders he dispatched with an insistent summons to all the leading cattlemen as far south as the Chiracahua Range, as far east as Grant's Pass, as far west as Madrona. Such was Buck Johnson's reputation for level-headedness that without hesitation these men saddled and rode at their best speed. By noon the weightiest of the Soda Spring Valley had gathered in conclave.
But you can keep stuff for personal use. There ain't nothing more personal than givin' it away to your friends." "The price of calico is high down here." "And goin' up," agreed Bill, gloomily. He drove ten miles in silence while I, knowing my type, waited. "That old Billings ought to be drug out and buried," he remarked at last. "We rode together on the Chiracahua range.
The Chiracahua Apaches were already riding toward their mountains where Mangus Colorado and the renegade members of their tribe were biding on the heights, like eagles resting on the rocky peaks before they take their next flight. Like roosting eagles the warriors of Mangus Colorado scanned the wide plains beneath the mountains. Their eyes went to the ragged summits of the ranges beyond.
And now, having mastered the art of flight as he had mastered the art of raiding, the war-chief of the Chiracahua Apaches waged his vendetta against the white men more remorselessly than any of his forefathers had done in their time.
Otherwise, why should he take up his good time and risk his life in fighting a people against whom he held no personal grudge? And why should that people bother their heads and risk their lives in fighting him? He followed that question by reminding Cochise of the reprisals which he had launched against the Chiracahua Apaches.
The show-down was bound to come. It came one day at the Chandler ranch and the old-timers got the answer to their question. There were two young fellows by the name of Zwing Hunt and Billy Grounds who had been working at Philip Morse's sawmill over in the Chiracahua Mountains.
It was therefore with the utmost willingness that he combined his campaign of savage fighting with another and quieter campaign of diplomacy which was being waged by General O. O. Howard. The latter had been sent out by President Grant to get the Chiracahua Apaches back on the reservation. And one day he made up his mind to open negotiations with the war-chief in person.
He removed his pipe deliberately, and spat in the fire. "Say, son," he drawled, "if you want to say something big, why don't you say 'elephant'?" The young fellow subsided. We went on smoking our pipes. Down near the Chiracahua Range in southeastern Arizona, there is a butte, and halfway up that butte is a cave, and in front of that cave is a ramshackle porch-roof or shed.
Wood dressed his wounds and sent word to Camp Bowie, and a troop of cavalry chased the renegades into the Chiracahua Mountains, where they eventually escaped, to make their way back to the reservation in time for next ration-day.
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