Geronimo

Geronimo

I was born in No-doyohn Canon, Arizona, June, 1829.

In that country which lies around the head waters of the Gila River I

was reared. This range was our fatherland; among these mountains

our wigwams were hidden; the scattered valleys contained our fields;

the boundless prairies, stretching away on every side, were our

pastures; the rocky caverns were our burying places.

I was fourth in a family of eight children-- four boys and four girls. Of

that family, only myself, my brother, Porico, and my sister,

Nah-da-ste , are yet alive. We are held as prisoners of war in this

Military Reservation (Fort Sill).

As a babe I rolled on the dirt floor of my father's tepee, hung in my

tsoch (Apache name for cradle) at my mother's back, or suspended

from the bough of a tree. I was warmed by the sun, rocked by the

winds, and sheltered by the trees as other Indian babes.

When a child my mother taught me the legends of our people; taught

me of the sun and sky, the moon and stars, the clouds and storms.

She also taught me to kneel and pray to Usen for strength, health,

wisdom, and protection. We never prayed against any person, but if

we had faught against any individual we ourselves took vengeance.

We were taught that Usen does not care for the petty quarrels of men.

My father had often told me of the brave deeds of our warriors, of the

pleasures of the chase, and the glories of the war path.

With my brothers and sisters I played about my father's home.

Sometimes we played at hide-and-seek among the rocks and pines;

sometimes we loitered in the shade of the cottonwood trees or sought

the shudock (a kind of wild cherry) while our parents worked in the

field. Sometimes we played that we were warriors. We would practice

stealing upon some object that represented an enemy, and in our

childish imitation often perform the feats of war. Sometimes we would

hide away from our mother to see if she could find us, and often when

thus concealed go to sleep and perhaps remain hidden for many

hours.

When we were old enough to be of real service we went to the field

with our parents: not to play, but to toil. When the crops were to be

planted we broke the ground with wooden hoes. We planted the corn

in straight rows, the beans among the corn, and the melons and

pumpkins in irregular order over the field. We cultivated these crops