The Kiowas’ manner was such as to convince us that we would do well to look after our own safety, and we dared not lie down to rest without leaving one of our party on guard. We spent the night sleeping by turns, and early in the morning our sentinel awakened us to say that the Kiowas were following the trail of the fugitives, for which they had been obliged to wait till dawn. We in turn followed them, and the trail led us to the spot where Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou had left their horses, and where they had mounted and ridden away. We surveyors resumed our work; we dared not lose a moment, for the Indians were sure to return to rescue their comrades and execute their twofold revenge, and we could not know how soon this might be, for we had no idea where the main body of the Apaches lay.

We worked hard till noon, when Sam Hawkins came to me and said: “There seems to be something up among the Kiowas in regard to the prisoners.”

“Something? Don’t you know what?”

“They seem to be getting ready to kill them, and to do it soon, for they are preparing the torture now.”

“We must stop that.”

“Now look here; the Kiowas are two hundred strong. Do you mean to say you can stop their doing what they please?”

“I hope not to be obliged to do it alone; I count on you and Dick and Will, and I have full confidence you won’t forsake me, but will do your utmost to prevent such wholesale murder.”

“So you have confidence in us! I’m very grateful for it, for it’s no trifle to have the confidence of such a man as you.”

“Listen, Sam; I’m in earnest. The fate of so many men is not a subject for jesting.”

He gave me a whimsical glance out of his little eyes. “The dickens! So you’re in earnest! Then I must pull a long face. But do you consider the situation? We are only four against two hundred, for we can’t count on the others. Do you think we could possibly succeed, or do you mean to live up to your new name of Old Shatterhand, and knock down all the two hundred warriors with your fist?”

“Nonsense! I didn’t give myself that name, and I know well enough we can’t do anything against two hundred; but must it come to force? Cunning is often better.”

“Now I wonder if you read that in your books? You’ll become prudent if you don’t look out, and I’d like to see how you’d seem in that shape. I tell you there’s nothing to be done here with all your cunning. The Indians will do what they please, and not care a rap whether you like it or lump it.”

“All right; I see I can’t depend on you, and I’ll have to act alone.”

“For mercy’s sake, don’t do anything foolish. You won’t have to act alone, for, whatever you do, we’ll stand by you. But it’s not been my habit to run my head against thick walls, for I know the walls are harder than the head.”

“And I never said I’d do the impossible. But if there’s any way to save the Apaches, we must find it.”

“Certainly; but what way is there?”

“I’ve been thinking I’d force the chief to do my will by holding a knife to his breast.”

“And stab him?”

“If he wouldn’t give in, yes.”

“Good powers above! you’re mad,” he cried, shocked.

“I assure you I’ll try it.”

“It’s—it’s—” Sam checked himself, his surprised and anxious face taking on another expression, until at last he said: “I don’t know as it’s such a bad idea, after all. Nothing but force would make Tangua yield, and with a knife at his breast he might—Well, actually, a greenhorn can have a small, so-called idea once in a while.”

“The first thing is to get the chief away from his braves. Where is he now?”

“Over there with them.”

“Will you get him off, Sam? Tell him I want to speak to him and can’t leave my work.”

“I doubt if that’ll work; however, I’ll try. Suppose he brings some of his men with him?”

“I’ll leave them to you and Stone and Parker; I’ll take care of Tangua. Have thongs ready to bind him; the thing must be done quietly and quickly.”

“Well, I don’t know how the plan’s going to work, but, as nothing else occurs to me, you shall have your way. We risk our lives, and I have no desire to die, but I think we may come out of it with a black eye.”

He laughed in his usual quiet manner, and went off.

My companions were too far away to have heard what we had been saying, and it never occurred to me to tell them our plan, for I was sure they would have prevented its execution. They valued their own lives more than those of the captive Apaches, and I realized what a risk I ran. But I felt I ought to give Stone and Parker a chance to withdraw if they chose, and asked them if they wanted to take a hand in the game. Stone replied: “What is the matter with you? Do you think we’re sneaks to leave a friend in the lurch? Your scheme is a stroke worthy of a true frontiersman, and we’ll be glad to take a hand; isn’t that so, Will?”

“Yes,” said Parker. “I’d like to see if we four ain’t the fellows to beat two hundred Indians.”

I went on measuring, and did not look back until Stone cried: “Get ready; they’re coming.”

I looked, and saw Sam approaching with Tangua and three other Indians.

“A man for each,” I said. “I’ll take the chief. Throttle them so they can’t scream, and wait till I grab Tangua; don’t move first.”

We went over towards the Indians, and took up our position where a bush screened us from the rest of the Kiowas left to guard the prisoners. The chief’s face was none too friendly, and he said in equally unfriendly tone as he came up: “The pale-face called Old Shatterhand has asked me to come. Have you forgotten I am chief of the Kiowas, and you should have come to me, not I to you?”

“I know you are the chief,” I answered.

“I have come because you have been a short time among us, and have yet to learn politeness. Speak briefly, for I have no time.”

“What have you to do that is so important?”

“We are going to make the Apache dogs howl.”

“Why so soon? I thought you were going to take them to your village, and torture them in the presence of your women and children.”

“We wanted to, but they would hinder us on the war-path, whither we now go; so we shall kill them to-day.”

“I ask you not to do this.”

“It is not for you to ask.”

“Can’t you speak as civilly as I do to you? I only said I asked you; if I had commanded you, you might have had an excuse for being rude.”

“I want to hear nothing from you, and a command is out of the question. No pale-face shall meddle in my affairs.”

“Have you a right to kill the prisoners? No, don’t answer, for I know what you will say; but there is a difference between putting men to death quickly and painlessly, and slowly torturing them. We shall never allow that where we are.”

He drew himself up to his full height, and said scornfully: “Whom do you think I am? Compared with me you are like a toad which would attack a bear of the Rockies. The prisoners are mine, and I shall do what I please with them.”

“They fell into your hands by our help, so we have the same right to them that you have, and we wish them to live.”

“Wish what you please, you white cur; I laugh at your words.”

He spat at me; and would have turned away, but I let drive and knocked him down. He had a hard skull, however, and, not being quite unconscious, tried to rise. So I had to give him another blow before I could pay any attention to the others. I saw Sam Hawkins kneeling on an Indian whom he had seized by the throat; Stone and Parker held the second one down, while the third ran shrieking away. I came to Sam’s assistance, and we bound our man as Dick and Will finished up theirs. “That was foolish of you; why did you let the third escape?” I said.

“Because Stone and I went for the same one. We lost only two seconds by it, but it was enough to let that rascal escape.”

“No matter,” said Sam. “It only means that the ball will begin earlier. In two or three minutes the Indians will be upon us, and we must take care to have a free field between us.”

The surveyors had seen our action with horror, and the head engineer came bounding over to us, crying: “What is the matter with you people? What have you done? We shall all be killed.”

“You certainly will if you don’t join us now,” said Sam. “Call your people over here, and come with us; we’ll protect you.”

“Protect us—” Bancroft began, but Sam interrupted him.

“Silence!” the little man said sternly. “We know what we’re about. If you don’t stick to us you’re lost. Come on.”

We carried the three Indians to the open prairie, where we halted and laid them down, for we knew an open plain where we could see all around was safer than a position that afforded hiding-places. Scarcely had we got there than we heard the Kiowas’ howls of rage, and after a moment they came running towards us; but as one ran faster than another they were strung out in a long line, not coming in a solid body; which was lucky for us, as in the latter case it would have been harder to bring them to a stand.

Plucky little Sam went a short distance towards them, and threw up both arms as a signal to stop. I heard him call out something which I did not understand. It had no effect until it was repeated, then I saw the first Kiowa, as well as the one next to him, pause. Sam spoke to them, pointing at us. Then I called upon Stone and Parker to raise the chief, and swung a knife over his breast. The Indians howled indignantly. Sam spoke further to them, and then one of them, next to Tangua in authority, came out from the rest and proceeded towards us. As they came up Sam pointed at our three prisoners and said: “You see I spoke the truth. They are entirely in our power.”

The under-chief, whose face betrayed the fury within him, replied: “I see that these two Indians are alive, but the chief seems to be dead.”

“He is not dead. Old Shatterhand’s fist knocked him down, and he is unconscious, but he will soon revive. Sit down and wait; when the chief comes to himself again we will treat with you. But the moment one of the Kiowas touches a weapon Old Shatterhand’s knife will be plunged into Tangua’s heart.”

“How dare you raise your hand against us who are your friends?”

“Friends! You don’t believe that yourself when you say it.”

“I do believe it; have we not smoked the pipe of peace together?”

“Yes, but we can’t trust this peace. Is it customary for friends to insult one another?”

“No.”

“Yet your chief insulted Old Shatterhand. See, he begins to move.”

Tangua, whom Stone and Parker had laid down again, raised himself, looking at us at first as though he did not feel sure what had happened, then he recovered consciousness perfectly and cried: “Take off these bands.”

“Why did you not listen to my request?” I asked. “You can’t give orders here.” He gave me a look of rage, and snarled:

“Silence, boy, or I’ll tear your eyes out.”

“Silence is more fit for you than for me,” I answered. “You insulted me, and I knocked you down. Old Shatterhand does not let go unpunished him who calls him a toad and a white dog.”

“I will be free in a moment. If you do not obey me, my warriors shall wipe you from off the earth.”

“You’d go first. Hear what I have to say. There stand your people; if one of them moves a foot without permission, my knife goes into your heart. How!”

I set the knife-point against his breast. He saw that he was in our power, and could not doubt that I would fulfil my threat. There was a pause, during which he seemed to long to annihilate us with his wildly rolling eyes; then he tried to control his rage, and asked more mildly:

“What do you want of me?”

“Nothing except what I have already told you: that the Apaches shall not die by torture.”

“Then you ask that they shall not die?”

“Do with them later what you will, but while we are with you nothing must happen to them.”

Again he considered a while in silence. Through the war-paint on his face we saw pass over it varying expressions of anger, hatred, and malice. I expected that the contest of words between us would be long, so wondered not a little when he said: “It shall be as you wish; yes, I will do more than that if you will fulfil the condition I will make.”

“What is the condition?”

“First I want to tell you that you need not think I fear your knife. If you stabbed me, you would be torn to shreds in a moment by my warriors. No matter how strong you are, you cannot fight two hundred foes. So I laugh at your threat to stab me. If I told you I would not do as you wish, you could do nothing to me. Nevertheless the Apache dogs shall not be tortured; I will even promise not to kill them if you will fight in a life-and-death combat for them.”

“With whom?”

“With one of my warriors, whom I will choose.”

“What weapons?”

“Only knives. If he kills you, the Apaches must also die; but if you kill him, they shall live.”

“And be free?”

“Yes.”

I could not help seeing that he considered me the most dangerous of his white allies, and wanted to get rid of me; for it goes without saying that his champion would be skilled in the use of the knife. Nevertheless, after short consideration I answered: “I agree; we will smoke the pipe of covenant, then the combat may begin.”

“What are you talking about?” cried Sam. “You can’t be so foolish as to go into such a fight.”

“It is not folly, my dear Sam.”

“The greatest folly possible. In a fair fight the chances would be equal, but they’re far from so here. Did you ever have a fight to the death with knives?”

“No.”

“There; you see? Your opponent will, of course, be skilled with the knife. And then think of the consequences of such a fight. If you die, the Apaches die, too; but if you kill your adversary, who is the worse for it? No one.”

“But if I win, the Apaches get their lives and freedom.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Certainly; for it will be sealed by the solemn pipe of covenant.”

“The devil’s truth will be in such an oath, which covers some double meaning. And even if it is meant honestly, you are a tenderfoot and—”

“Now give us a rest with your ‘tenderfoot,’ Sam,” I interrupted. “You’ve been shown that this tenderfoot knows what he is about.”

Although Dick Stone and Will Parker joined Sam in imploring me to give up the bargain, I persisted, and at last Sam cried impatiently: “No good, boys; he must go on running his thick head against stone walls; I’ll say no more against it. But I’ll see it’s a fair fight, and woe to him who cheats you! I’ll blow him into a thousand pieces with my Liddy, and they’ll be lost in the clouds.”

The arrangements for the combat were now made. Two circles were drawn in the sand, touching each other and forming a figure 8. Each contestant was to stand in one of these circles, and not step beyond it during the combat. There was to be no quarter; one must die, and his friends would not take revenge on his conqueror.

When everything was ready the bonds were removed from the chief, and we smoked the pipe that sealed his promise to me. The two other prisoners were freed, and the four Indians went off to fetch their champion and summon the braves to see the combat.

The surveyors all protested with me, but I paid no attention to their words, and Sam said: “You are a marvellously rash fellow. You will be killed, and what shall I do in my old age? I must have a tenderfoot to abuse; whom shall I scold if you are gone?”

“Some other tenderfoot.”

“That’s easier said than done, for I’ll never have another out-and-out hopeless greenhorn such as you are in all my life. Let me take your place. It’s no matter if an old fellow dies, but a young—”

“Now hold your kind tongue, my dear old Sam,” I interrupted. “It’s better a hopeless greenhorn should die than a valuable, experienced scout. But I hope I shan’t die.”

“Well, I’d rather take your place; but if I can’t, promise me to remember it’s for life or death. Don’t come any of your humane nonsense; remember, you’re not dealing with a knight or a square man, but a rascal and a murderer, who will kill you if he can. So get ahead of him; don’t hesitate. I’m afraid you’ll be weakly scrupulous.”

“I assure you I have no such idea. It’s he or I, and I’ll do my best that it shan’t be I. There shall not be an ounce of relenting, I promise you. I’ll save the lives of all the Apaches, and my own, at the price of his, if I can. It’s life or death, as you say, my dear Sam, and I mean to live; don’t fret. Say a prayer for me, if you remember how, and I know you do; and I think God will bless a fight for such a good cause. Hush; here they come.”