"I thought I had given you a proof today," said he, with an indefinable smile, "that I dare many things."
"Yes, yes; I know your courage carries you on to rashness: but what you would undertake is worse than temerity—it is madness!"
"Madness, señor! The word is too strong. Can a resolute man, well armed and mounted, have anything to fear from the Indians?"
"If you had nothing to do but defend yourself against Indians and wild beasts. I should be somewhat in your way of thinking, señor: a determined white can make head against twenty redskins. But how will you escape from the Tigercat?"
"From the Tigercat? Excuse me, caballero, but I do not understand you at all."
"I will soon explain, señor. The Tigercat is a white. This man, from reasons unknown to all, has joined the Apaches, has become one of their chiefs, and sworn implacable hatred to all men of his own colour."
"I have heard vaguely of the man you mention; but, after all, he is the only one of his race among the Indians. Redoubtable as he may be, he is not invulnerable, I suppose; and a brave man might kill him."
"Unfortunately you are mistaken, caballero; this man is not the only one of his race among the Indians; other bandits of his class are with him."
"Yes," cried Doña Manuela; "his son among the rest, who, they say, is as fierce a bandit as his father."
"Mother, that is only a surmise. If you come to proof, nothing can be affirmed against Stoneheart."