The rain ceased as suddenly as it began, and the sun shone down on us as warm as on the day before. We worked rapidly till nightfall, and a few hours’ labor in the morning brought us to a stream swollen by the late rain, flowing beside a small open savanna, which was bordered on one hand by trees and shrubs. A wooded peninsula ran out into the water, and beside the stream rose a gentle elevation crowned by thick woods.

“This is the place Sam picked out,” said Stone, looking at it with an air of recognition. “There couldn’t be a better place for our purpose. The Kiowas are so hidden you might try hard and not find the least trace of them, yet I know they see us perfectly. The savanna is covered with a growth that makes it easy for the Apache spies to conceal themselves and follow us unseen. Then look at the open plain of grass leading here. A camp-fire burning on it will light all the savanna, and hide the Apaches, so they can easily come upon us.”

His lean, weather-beaten face gleamed with satisfaction, but the head engineer did not share the feeling. He shook his head, saying: “What is the matter with you? Do you mean to say you rejoice that we can be so easily overcome? I tell you it’s far from pleasant to me; I am paralyzed at the mere thought.”

“The surer to fall into the hands of the Apaches,” cried Stone. “Don’t let such feelings get hold of you, Mr. Bancroft. Of course I’m glad, for the easier the Apaches can overtake us, the easier we can capture them. Just look here. Over there on the heights are the Kiowas in the midst of the woods. Their spies sit in the highest trees, and have surely seen us coming, and in the same way they’ll see the Apaches, for they can look all across the savanna.”

“Well, what earthly good will it do us, if we’re overtaken, to have the Kiowas look across the savanna?”

“Don’t you see? They stay there only because here the Apaches would see them. As soon as their scouts have come and gone the Kiowas will come over to us, hide on the peninsula, and we’ll put our horses at its neck, for then the Apaches will keep off it, as the horses would neigh if they went near them, and give us warning. The Apaches will hide, and wait till we’re asleep—”

“Suppose they shouldn’t wait?” I interrupted.

“That wouldn’t be dangerous for us,” he replied. “The Kiowas would come to our assistance at once.”

“But then there’d be bloodshed, which we want to avoid.”

“Yes, but here in the West a drop of blood doesn’t count. Don’t worry; the Apaches are sure to wait, for they know that if awake we’d defend ourselves, and though we’d get the worst of it, still some of them would be sure to get killed, and they value their blood as highly as we do ours. Therefore they’ll wait till we lie down to sleep; then we’ll let the fire go out, and go over to the island.”

Now that we were on the scene of action, and the hour was so near, I was greatly perturbed in mind. I was not afraid, but I was anxious, apprehensive of the result, and worried as to the fate of Winnetou, of whom I had thought so much during the past few days that he had grown near and dear to me, although he was still my enemy; and it must have been a kind of mental telepathy, for I learned later that he had been thinking continuously of me. Since the encounter could not be avoided, I wished it might come soon and be over with; and this wish was to be fulfilled.

It was a little short of mid-day when we saw Sam Hawkins returning. The little man was weary, but his eyes gleamed with unusual fire.

“All’s well?” I asked. “But I see it is, dear old Sam.”

“Do you?” he laughed. “Where is it written, on my nose or in your imagination?”

“No one who sees your eyes can doubt it.”

“So my eyes betray me; that’s good to know for another time. But you’re right; everything is really better than I could have hoped.”

“Have you seen the spies?”

“Seen the spies! I’ve not only seen ’em, but I’ve seen the whole band; and not only seen ’em, but heard and watched ’em.”

“Watched them! Then tell us, quick, what you’ve discovered.”

“Gather up your instruments, and go into camp while I go over to the Kiowas to tell them what their part is to be. I’ll be back pretty soon.”

He sprang across the stream, and disappeared into the woods, while we packed up our instruments, and went back to camp to await his coming. We neither saw nor heard him till he stood among us, saying: “Here I am, my lords; haven’t you eyes and ears? Now that shows you how you can get close to men without their knowing it; and that’s the way I did yesterday with the Apaches.”

“Tell us; tell us.”

“You shall hear; but I must sit down, for I’m pretty tired. My bones are used to riding, and don’t enjoy walking any more; besides, it’s grander to belong to the cavalry than to the infantry.”

He sat down near me, and then said, nodding his head positively: “We’ll have the ball to-night.”

“To-night!” I echoed, half shocked, half glad. “That’s good.”

“H’m! you seem to be in a hurry to fall into the hands of the Apaches. However, you’re right; it is good, and I’m glad, too, that we won’t have to wait any longer. It’s no fun waiting when you don’t know how a thing will turn out.”

“Don’t know! Is there any reason for anxiety?”

“Not a bit; on the contrary, I’m certain everything will go well. But any man of experience knows that the best child may grow up bad, the finest plans take a wrong turn from some unforeseen cause.”

“Well, do tell us what you heard. Hurry up.”

“Softly, softly, my young sir; everything in order. I can’t tell you what I heard, because you must first know how I heard it. When I went out in the rain from here I went back to where we were camping when the two Apaches came to us, and had to hide at once, for there were three redskins sniffing around. Apache spies, says I to myself; and so they were. They surveyed the premises without coming on my trail, and sat down under the trees where it was dry to wait for their chiefs, and I had to wait, too, two long hours. At last came a mounted band, led by Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou.”

“How many were there?”

“Just as I expected, about fifty men. The spies went out to meet them, and after a few words with their chiefs went on ahead, the braves following slowly. You may imagine, gentlemen, that Sam Hawkins followed after them. The rain had washed out ordinary tracks, but the broad trail of your camp was plain; I wish I might always have a trail as easy to follow. But the Indians wanted to be very sure, for they peered into every nook and corner and behind every bush, and made such slow progress that darkness came on after we had gone only about two miles, and they dismounted and made their camp.”

“And did you creep up to them there?”

“Yes; like wise fellows they made no fire, but Sam Hawkins, being equally wise, thought that served him as well as them. So I crawled under the trees, and wriggled forward on my stomach till I got near enough to hear what they were saying. Their words were brief but to the point. It is as we expected: they want to capture us alive.”

“And not kill us?”

“Not all at once. They want to take us to the Mascaleros village at Rio Pecos, where we are to be tortured and die a living death, like carp taken out of the water and put into a pond to fatten. I wonder what kind of flesh old Sam’s would make, especially if they put me into the pan in my leather hunting-jacket.”

He laughed in his silent, inward fashion, and added: “They’ve got their eye on Mr. Rattler there, sitting as still as if heaven, with all the saints, were waiting for him. Yes, Rattler, they’ve got a banquet ready for you that I wouldn’t care to sit down to. You’re to be spitted, impaled, poisoned, smothered, shot, broken on a wheel, and hanged, each done a little more beautifully than the other, and only a taste of each that you may be kept alive a long time and have the full benefit of all the torture and anguish of death. And if after all you shouldn’t be quite dead, you’re to be laid in the grave of Kleki-Petrah, whom you murdered, and buried alive.”

“Merciful Heaven! did they say that?” gasped Rattler, his face blanched with terror.

“That’s what they said, and you deserve it. I only hope if you do escape you’ll be half decent in the future; and I guess you will be, for the body of Kleki-Petrah will be a strong medicine for you.”

“Where is the main band of the Apaches which is out against the Kiowas?” I asked.

“I don’t know; nothing was said of that. It doesn’t matter to us.”

Little Sam was mistaken in that; it was far from unimportant to us where this band was, as we discovered in a few days.

Sam continued: “As I had heard enough, I should have come back to you at once; but it was dark, and I couldn’t see the trail till dawn, so I waited. I stayed all night hidden in the wood, and my legs were almost broken. I was six miles from here, and I had to go out of my way to get back unseen. And that is all I have to tell you.”

“But you said you were going to show yourself to them.”

“I know, and I should have done so, only—hark! did you hear anything?”

The scream of an eagle, thrice repeated, came from the woods.

“That’s the Kiowa spies,” he said. “They are over there in the trees. I told them to give me this sign when they saw the Apaches on the savanna. Come, sir; we’ll try what sort of eyes you have.”

This invitation was addressed to me. Sam rose to go, and I took my gun to follow him.

“Hold on,” he said. “Leave that gun here. It’s true the frontiersman should never go out without his weapons, but this is an exception, because we must not seem to have any suspicion of danger. We’ll appear to be gathering wood to make our fire, and the Apaches will conclude we are going to stay here all night.”

We sauntered out, apparently wandering carelessly in and out among the trees and bushes, breaking off the dry branches. We strained our eyes, but could discover no one; yet later I learned from Winnetou himself that fifty feet at most away from us he was hidden behind a bush watching us. We gathered more wood for the camp-fire than we needed, for Sam wanted enough in reserve to enable the Apaches to kindle the fire quickly when they discovered we were gone.

Darkness fell, and we gathered in the camp for the eventful night. Sam, as the most experienced, sat at the end of the grassy plain nearest the savanna, where he could see the coming of the spies for whom we were waiting, knowing they could not be far off. The fire blazed up, lighting the plain and the savanna. How foolish and inexperienced the Apaches must think us! This great fire was the very thing to guide an enemy to us from afar. We ate our supper, and lounged about as if we were far from suspecting any danger. The guns lay at some distance back of us towards the peninsula, ready to be seized by us later in our flight.

Three hours after dark Sam stepped back to us and said softly: “The spies are coming; two, one on this, one on that side. I heard and saw them.” Then he sat down with us, and began to talk in a loud voice on the first subject that occurred to him. We answered, and kept up a conversation intended to show the spies how secure we felt. We knew that they were there watching us, but by a strong effort we kept ourselves from glancing towards the bushes concealing them.

The most important thing now was to know when they had gone. We could neither hear nor see anything, and yet we dared not waste a moment after their departure, for in a short time the whole band would be upon us, and in that interval the Kiowas must come over from the peninsula. Hence it was best not to wait until they had withdrawn, but to force them out. So Sam rose as if he were going to get more wood, and went into the bushes on one side, while I took the other.

We were now sure that the spies were gone. Sam put one hand to his mouth and thrice imitated the croaking of a bull-frog. This was the signal for the Kiowas to come; it would not be noticed by the Apaches, as we were beside the stream. Sam then resumed his office of watchman to warn us of the approach of the whole body of the enemy.

About two minutes after the signal was given the Kiowas came over, in close single file—a long line of two hundred warriors. They had not waited in the woods, but had come down to the bank to be ready for the signal, and on receiving it had instantly sprung across the stream. They crawled behind us in our shadow like snakes, lying close to the ground, near the peninsula. This was done so quickly and silently that in three minutes, at the most, the last one had joined us. In a short time Sam came and whispered to us: “They’re coming on both sides. Don’t put on any more wood; we must let the fire die down, and take care that an ember is left for the Indians to kindle another.”

We piled what wood we had left around the fire, so that no light would fall upon our retreat. After this was done each of us had to be more or less an actor. We knew that fifty Apaches were close to us, yet that we must not betray our knowledge by the slightest sign. We expected them to wait until we were asleep; but what if they did not wait, but fell upon us at once? Of course we had two hundred allies in the Kiowas, but in that case there would be a bloody struggle that might easily cost some of us our lives.

The time had come, and it was interesting to watch the various effects it produced on my comrades. Rattler lay face downward on the ground as if asleep, the fear of death gripping his heart with an icy hand. His trusty friends glanced at one another with blanched faces; they could not utter a word to help on our forced conversation. Will Parker and Dick Stone sat there as calmly as if there were no such thing as an Apache in the world. Sam Hawkins made jokes, and I laughed in spite of myself at his nonsense. For now that the danger was upon us I was as calm as if we were about to play a game of whist. And so we waited.