Geronimo

By Ernest McGaffey (1861– )

Chief of the Apaches. Captured by General Miles on Sept. 4, 1886.

BESIDE that tent and under guard

In majesty alone he stands

As some chained eagle, broken-winged

With eyes that gleam like smouldering brands;

A savage face, streaked o’er with paint,

And coal-black hair in unkempt mane,

Thin, cruel lips, set rigidly—

A red Apache Tamerlane.

As restless as the desert winds,

Yet here he stands like carven stone,

His raven locks by breezes moved

And backward o’er his shoulders blown;

Silent, yet watchful as he waits

Robed in his strange, barbaric guise,

While here and there go searchingly

The cat-like wanderings of his eyes.

The eagle feather on his head

Is dull with many a bloody stain,

While darkly on his lowering brow

Forever rests the mark of Cain;

Have you but seen a tiger caged

And sullen through his barriers glare?

Mark well his human prototype,

The fierce Apache fettered there.