the slow delivery of meat and other supplies to the reservation on Goyathlay, and, by extension, Delshay as well, since he had ridden with the raiders. And because Delshay was the only one of Geronimo’s band present at the reservation, some took their anger out on him.
However, there were as many on the reservation who respected and looked up to Geronimo because he was carrying the fight to the white man. And because Delshay had ridden with him, they treated him with respect and honor.
From his cousin, Chandeisi, whose name meant Broken Nose, Delshay learned to make jewelry from the silver and turquoise that they were able to mine on the reservation. Sagozhuni, Delshay’s wife, was particularly skilled in weaving baskets of various shapes and sizes, all incorporating beautiful and intricate designs.
It had been two months since returning to the reservation, and Delshay was sitting in front of his hogan when Chandeisi came to see him.
“I have spoken with Baker,” Chandeisi said. “He has given permission for us to go to Picket Post to trade jewelry and baskets.”
Delshay spat on the ground. “Are we children, that we must have permission?”
“Delshay, it is the way of life on the reservation,” Chandeisi explained. “If we live here, we must follow the rules.”
“Cousin, are you content to follow the rules of the white man?”
“I have no choice,” Chandeisi said. “I have a family, as do you. Would you rather be with Goyathlay than with Sagozhuni and your children?”
Delshay looked over at his youngest child, who was sitting on a blanket.
“Soon, the child will be old enough to go and I will take my family and leave this place.”
Chandeisi looked around quickly to make certain no one overheard.
“Delshay, you must not speak of such things,” he said. “If the Indian police hear you, they will report you to Baker and Baker will put you in jail.”
“Maybe,” Delshay said. He smiled. “Or maybe I will kill the Indian police before I leave.”
When Delshay saw the shocked look on Chandeisi’s face, he laughed out loud. “I am making the joke, cousin,” he said.
“I think one should not joke about such things.”
“Very well. Tell me about the trading we will do.”
“The white men like the jewelry and the baskets. Tomorrow, we will go to the white village called Picket Post and trade.”
Before the sun rose then next morning, Delshay and Chandeisi, along with their families, left the reservation for the twenty-five-mile trek into Picket Post. When they were within two miles of the town, they halted.
“Wait here for us, Sagozhuni,” Delshay said. “Chandeisi and I will go into town and see if they will trade.”
“Very well, Delshay, my husband. I will feed the children while you are gone.”
Delshay’s wife found a place in the shade and spread a blanket for the three children. Because some of the merchants of the town resented the Indians coming in to trade, Delshay and Chandeisi thought it would be best to leave their inventory behind as they went into town to invite customers out to trade. The Indians would trade for tobacco, coffee, blankets, and other goods and trinkets that would make their life on the reservation somewhat easier.
Meechum, Philbin, Cantrell, and Oliver had been on the trail for three days, and were now giving their exhausted horses a much needed rest.
“I gotta take a piss,” Meechum said. He walked a few feet away from the others, then stopped. “Well, now,” he said, looking over the edge of a rock. “What do we have here?”
“What?” Cantrell asked.
Meechum put his finger across his lips. “Be quiet,” he hissed.
“What is it, Meechum, what do you see?”
“Come here and take a look for yourself, but be quiet and don’t show yourself.”
The other three men came up to stand beside Meechum.
“What is it?” Oliver asked.
“Look down there,” Meechum said, pointing to two Indian women and children.
“What?” Cantrell asked again. “All I see is a couple of squaws.”
“Yeah, that’s ’cause you don’t know what you’re lookin’ at. Why do you think they’re out here?” Meechum asked.
“I don’t have no idea,” Cantrell said.
“Me neither,” Oliver said.
“Why do you think, Burt?” Meechum asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but if I had to guess, I would say that it is more than likely they’ve come to trade,” Philbin said.
Meechum smiled and nodded. “My cousin is smarter than any of you,” he said. “That’s right.”
“You mean them squaws has just come out here in the middle of nowhere to trade?” Cantrell asked. “That
