As he spoke, they came upon a pappoose, tied to a tree, and blinking in the afternoon sunshine. Just beyond, they found a group of Apaches. The women were cooking fish over live coals of fire. The men seemed to recognize John Clayton. He greeted them in the tongue of the Mexicans, as he drove by, while the Indians jabbered and gesticulated violently.
At the bridge just beyond, they crossed the Gila for the last time before turning northward. There, they saw a young Apache catching fish. He glanced up, and Esther recognized in him the visitor who had found her at the schoolhouse. It was evident he knew her, for he started towards the surrey.
"He is one of the friendly Apaches," explained John Clayton. "He's often on the range, and has adopted some of the cowboy regimentals, you see."
The driver stopped his horses.
The Indian came forward, offering John Clayton a number of fish strung on a withe. As he did so, he turned towards Esther, and said:
"Nē-shē-äd-nlĕh´."
"What does he mean?" asked Esther.
"I think he wants to buy you from me with these fish," answered John Clayton, turning to her with an amused smile.
Putting his hand into a tin box, he took from it a handful of cookies, gave them to the young Indian, and drove on. As they looked back, the last cake was about to disappear down the Indian's throat.
"Poor things," said Esther, "they have had no chance."