"Ha! you don't know Ute."
"I know Ulna," persisted Sam.
"Ulna he like take my scalp."
"I am sure he would not hurt you unless it was to save his own life. The whites have taught him better."
"The whites!" repeated the chief, with a grunt of contempt. "Oh, yes, the whites, heap fine the whites. They take all Apaches' land, kill his wife, kill him when he don't like it. Apache don't go to white man's land; why, then, he comes here we no send for him?"
Sam saw that this was a mixed question to which the answer could not be truthfully given unless it agreed with the Indian's notion of right, still he said evasively:
"All men do wrong at times, but all men should try to do right."
"What is right? what is wrong? White man think one thing, Apache think another thing; no one know. Sit down on stone; I wait till braves come back with Ulna's scalp, then all leave."
Without waiting for any comment, Blanco again snapped the fingers of both hands above his head, and turned away to show he did not care to discuss the subject further.
This conversation took place near the point of rocks in which Sam and his friends had spent the previous night.