“These are my friends,” he said. “Do not harm them.”
“They are enemies,” cried one of the warriors, excited by blood and anticipation of torture. “Kill them!”
“Very well,” said Shoz-Dijiji quietly. “You may kill them, but first you must kill Shoz-Dijiji. He has told you that they are his friends.”
“Why does Shoz-Dijiji protect the enemy?” demanded Gian-nah-tah.
“Listen,” said Shoz-Dijiji. “Many years ago Shoz-Dijiji was hunting in these mountains. He was alone. He often saw this man felling trees, but he did not harm him because the Apaches were not upon the war-trail at that time. A tree fell upon the man in such a way that he could not free himself. He must have died if no one came to help him. There was no one to come but Shoz-Dijiji.
“Shoz-Dijiji lifted the tree from him. The man’s leg was broken. Shoz-Dijiji placed him upon one of his burros and took him to Casa Grande, where he lived.
“You-all remember the time when we made the treaty of peace with the people of Casa Grande and while we were celebrating it the Mexican soldiers came and attacked us. They made us prisoners and were going to shoot us.
“This man came to look at the captives and recognized Shoz-Dijiji. He begged the war chief of the Mexicans to let me go, and he took me to his home and gave me food and set me free. It was Shoz-Dijiji who was able to release all the other Apache prisoners because of what this man did. The other here is his son.
“Because of what his father did for Shoz-Dijiji neither of them shall be killed. We shall let them take their burros and their wood and go back in safety to their home. I have spoken.”
“Shoz-Dijiji speaks true words when he says that these two shall not be harmed,” said Gian-nah-tah. “Let them go in peace.”