“Let us talk with Nah-che,” proposed Jimmie, to Maria. There had been no call for them in the interpreting, and now was their chance to look up Nah-che.
“Chi-kis-n,” greeted Jimmie, extending his hand to grasp Nah-che’s.
“Welcome, chi-kis-n,” replied Nah-che, as they shook.
Nah-che had grown into almost a warrior.
“How is Nah-da-ste?”
“She is not here. The women and children are in another place, till the chiefs know whether it is peace or war.”
“It is peace, chi-kis-n.”
“I think so,” answered Nah-che frankly. “The Chiricahua wish peace. They will keep their promise if the white people will keep theirs. As long as Staglito stays with us, there will be no trouble, because he understands us. All these wars between the Americans and the Apaches come because they do not understand each other. I think if there were more one-armed soldier-captains there would be fewer wars. That other soldier-captain, Cluke, is honest, too, we hear. Why doesn’t he come to see us?”
“He is getting ready to fight those Indians who are bad,” said Jimmie. “He was told to wait until the one-armed general had offered the Chiricahua peace. Now he will go to war against the Tonto and the Yavapai, who have refused peace.”