Chapter
10
TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR A HEADDOWN INTO THE RUGGED mountain fastness of Sonora the remnants of Geronimo's band of renegades hurried from the menace of the white man's justice. Suffering from the after effects of Tribollet's whiskey they marched in sullen silence, thinking only of escape, for the fighting spirit of a sick man is not wont to rise to any great heights.
For sixteen hours they marched with but a single brief rest, and it was again dark when they went into camp.
Water and a little food revived their spirits. There was even laughter, low pitched lest it reach across the night to the ears of an enemy.
Shoz-Dijiji squatted upon his haunches chewing upon a strip of jerked venison that was both dirty and "high" and that not only pleased his palate but gave him streng
