Winnetou, the Apache Knight by Karl Friedrich May (chrysanthemum read aloud .TXT) 📖

life, and killed them, and yesterday he stabbed a grizzly bear of the Rockies with his knife, and received no scratch himself.”

“Ugh! ugh!” grunted the Indians, regarding me approvingly.

“His bullet never misses its mark, and in his hand dwells such strength that at a blow from him his enemy falls to the ground. Therefore the white men of the West call him Old Shatterhand.”

Thus without any choice of mine I was given the name which has ever since clung to me.

The Fox offered me his hand, and said in friendly tones: “If Old Shatterhand will, we will be friends and brothers. We love men who can knock down an enemy with a blow, and he shall be welcome among us.”

Which really meant: “We need allies with such strength, so come to us.”

However, I replied: “I love the red men, for they are the sons of the Great Spirit, whose children we also are. We are brothers, and will unite against all enemies who do not respect us.”

A smirk of satisfaction passed over his greased and painted face as he replied: “Old Shatterhand has spoken well; we will smoke the pipe of peace with him.” So saying he seated himself, and brought out a pipe which he filled with a mixture apparently of red turnip, hemp, chopped acorns, and sour sorrel, lighted it, rose, took a whiff, puffed it towards heaven and earth, and said: “Above dwells the Great Spirit, and here on earth exist the plants and beasts which he made for the Kiowa warriors.” Then he took another whiff, and blew it towards the north, east, south, and west, saying: “In all directions dwell the red and white men who wrongfully take these beasts and plants for themselves; but we shall find them, and take what is ours. I have spoken. How!”

What a speech! This Kiowa openly declared his tribe the owner of everything, and hence robbery was not only his right but his duty. And I must treat this sort of people as friends!

The Fox handed the pipe to Sam, who took half a dozen puffs and said: “The Great Spirit judges not the appearance of men, nor can they deceive Him by painting their faces, for He sees the heart. The hearts of the warriors of the glorious tribe of the Kiowas are brave and wise. Mine is bound to them as my mule is tied to the tree, and will be so forever. I have spoken. How!”

That was just like Sam, the artful, jolly little man, who always knew how to win his hearers, and yet have his joke.

And now it was my turn to take the foul pipe and become eloquent. I also rose, took a whiff, and - yes, the turnip, hemp, acorns, sour sorrel were all there in the pipe-bowl, but there seemed to be a fifth ingredient in the mixture, for it tasted as if it had bits of felt shoes in it. I puffed the smoke towards the earth and blue sky and said: “The sunshine and air come from Heaven, whence come all good gifts. The earth receives the warmth and moisture, and gives them to the buffalo and mustang and bear and deer, to the pumpkin and corn and all good plants from which the red man makes his kinnikinnic,that in the pipe of peace breathes brotherly love.”

I had read that Indians call their tobacco” kinnikinnic,” and the knowledge opportunely came back to me now. A second time I filled my mouth with smoke and blew it toward heaven, and continued: “In the west rise the Rocky Mountains, and to the east stretch the plains; on the north roll the seas, and the south is washed by the waters of the great ocean. Were all the land between these points mine I would share it with the warriors of the Kiowas, for they are my brothers. This year may they kill ten times as many buffaloes and fifty times as many grizzly bears as they number. May their corn grow as large as pumpkins, and their pumpkins so great that twenty could be made from one. I have spoken. How!”

These wishes were not very practical, but they seemed to please the Indians as much as if they were already fulfilled. The Fox seized my hand, assured me of his friendship for all time, then took the pipe between his teeth, and smoked in supreme content.

Having brought the Indians into a state of high good humor, Sam said: “My brothers say that the war hatchet has been dug up between them and the Apaches of the Mascaleros. How long has this been so? and what has ended the peace between them?”

“Since the time two weeks ago, when the Apache dogs killed four of our warriors.”

“Where?”

“At Rio Pecos.”

“That is not your camp, but that of the Mascaleros; what were your warriors doing there?”

The Kiowa did not hesitate to reply candidly: “A band of our braves went at night to capture some of the Apaches’ horses. The vile dogs watch well; they killed our brave men. Therefore we have taken up the war-hatchet.”

So the Kiowas had intended to steal, yet would make the Apaches atone for their defence of their own property. I would have expressed my mind on this conduct, but Sam signalled to me so energetically to be quiet that I obeyed him, and he said: “My brother the Fox is out to spy; when will his braves follow?”

“They are one day behind us.”

“Who leads them?”

“Tangua, the chief himself, at the head of two hundred braves.”

“And you expect to overcome the Apaches?”

“We will come upon them as the eagle swoops on the heron that has not seen him.”

“My brother is mistaken. The Apaches know that they are to be attacked by the Kiowas.”

The Fox shook his head incredulously, and replied: “How could they know it? Do their ears reach to the tent of the Kiowas?”

“Yes.”

“I do not understand my brother Sam; he must tell me what he means.”

“The Apaches have ears which can walk and ride; yesterday we saw two such ears that had been listening at the camp of the Kiowas.”

“Uff! Two ears. Two scouts?”

“Yes. My brothers have not considered everything. Intschu-Tschuna, the chief of the Apaches, is a very wise warrior. When he saw that his people had killed four Kiowas he said to himself that the Kiowas would be avenged, and set out to spy upon you.”

“Uff! uff! He himself?”

“Yes, and his son Winnetou.”

“Uff! He too? Had we known that, we would have captured the two dogs. I must hasten back to tell this to the chief, that he may call out more braves. We are enough for a surprise, but not if we are expected. Will Sam and Old Shatterhand ride with me?”

“Yes; not to Tangua, the chief of the Kiowas, but to our camp.”

“That I cannot do.”

“Hear what I say. Would you take Intschu-Tschuna, the chief of the Apaches, a prisoner alive?”

“Uff!” cried the Kiowa as if electrified, and his voice was ear-splitting. Then he said: “If my brother has a jest on his tongue I will not bear it.”

“Nonsense! I am in earnest. In five or six days at most, and I can’t tell how much sooner, you can capture the chief and his son Winnetou alive.”

“Where?”

“In our camp; and you’ll see how if you listen to what I tell yom.”

Sam then told the Indian of our road, to which they had no objection, and of our meeting with the Apaches. As he ended he said: “I wondered to see the two chiefs alone, and decided they were buffalo-hunting and had parted from their followers for a little time, but now I see it all. They were out reconnoitring, and the fact that the two heads of the tribe made this ride themselves shows they considered it an important matter. Now they will thirst for a double vengeance: on you, and on us for Kleki-Petrah’s murder. They will send a smaller band against us than against you, and the chief and his son will be with the former. After we have shown you our camp, that you may find it again, you will go back to your chief, tell him all I have said, and he will come with his two hundred braves to wait for Intschu-Tschuna with his little band. We are twenty strong, and of course will help you, and it will be child’s plan to capture the Apaches. It is like having the whole tribe to have the chiefs, for you can demand of them what you will. Does my brother see it all?”

“Yes; my white brother’s plan is very good, and we will start at once to reach his camp before dark.”

We mounted and galloped towards the camp, cutting across by a shorter route, since it was no longer necessary to follow the trail. I was shocked at Sam Hawkins and very angry with him. Winnetou, the noble Winnetou, and his father were to be betrayed into a trap, which if successful would destroy them! How could Hawkins have formed such a scheme? I tried in vain to get him apart from the Kiowas to ask an explanation; but he seemed to suspect my intention, and stuck close to the Fox, which made me angrier than ever.

When we got into camp I sprang from my horse, and lay down on the grass in no very happy frame of mind. Disregarding all my signals to him, Sam had taken the Indians to our men, who were in a high state of delight when they learned they had come in friendship and there was no longer any reason for our fearing the Apaches.

After the Kiowas had been hospitably received and entertained, Sam came to me for the first time. “You have a long face to-night,” he said. “Is it real indigestion or mental colic? I suspect it’s the latter; open your heart to me and I’ll cure you.”

“I’d be glad if you could, Sam, but I doubt it.”

“Yes, I can; only try me.”

“Tell me, then, how Winnetou struck you?”

“As a fine fellow, just as he did you.”

“Yet you will betray him to his death; how does that hang together ?”

“To his death! I? That’s impossible for my father’s son.”

“But you’ll make him a prisoner of these villains, and that means death.”

“Don’t believe that fairy tale. On the contrary, I’d do a good deal to save Winnetou if he were in danger.”

“Then why do you set this trap? And listen, Sam. If he is captured, I’ll free him; and if a weapon is turned on him, I’ll stand by his side and fight for him. I warn you of this frankly. I promised a dying man to be his friend, and that is as binding to me as an oath.”

“I like that, I like that,” Sam announced. “We agree there.”

“Oh, yes,” I exclaimed impatiently,” you say so, but how do your good words agree with your actions?”

“So that is what you want to know, hey? Old Sam Hawkins suspected you wanted to speak to him, but he dared not let you. He’s a different fellow than he seems, only he’s not going to show his cards to any one but you and Dick Stone and Will Parker, who are to help in his plot. We were lucky to have met the Kiowas and learned all we know now, and I really don’t see any other way of saving ourselves from the Apaches. However much you may admire Winnetou, you’d have to love him in eternity, for, being ignorant of your devotion to him, he’d send you there in short order. Now the Kiowas will