“No; we fought against each other, but that was understood. If you will promise me not to say a word about us at Fort Bowie I will let you go.”
“You know very well that I would not be a man if I gave any such promise,” retorted Jimmie. “I shall not lie to you.”
“If white men never lied to us, then everything would be all right,” said Nah-che. “They do lie to us, so you must die. I am sorry, but——”
“No! No!” One of the squaws had rushed up. She was Nah-da-ste! “This is the Boy-who-sleeps. I remember him well. He has slept in my lodge and eaten my food. I won’t have him killed. You had better let him go. He cannot harm us.”
“No. Fort Bowie is a long way off,” reminded Jimmie. “Besides, if you are off the reservation, that is known by this time.”
“Maybe not. We cut the talking wire,” answered Nah-che. “But it is true that Fort Bowie is a long way off. Anyway,” he added, “I don’t want to kill you, and I cannot argue with women. You can go, chi-kis-n. By the time you tell what you know, we shall be far in the other direction. So go as fast as you please, but keep going straight, for you might not find a chi-kis-n among other Chiricahua.”
“Good,” grunted Jimmie, as his rifle and revolver were passed to him. “I ask one word. Tell me why you are leaving the Fort Apache country. I wish the truth.”
“Everybody but Cluke is our enemy. We are lied about. Even Chato tell lies on us, and gives us a bad name, because he hates Geronimo. If we stay we will be locked up. That is what is said. Now go, for I will talk no more.”
Jimmie took the hint, and spurred away. He knew better than even to look back.