"'No,' replied Bill, 'my heart is set on this; I traveled the same race once before when the Apaches got me, and their knives never struck me once. I ask this favor as my life, for I have a presentiment that it is only I can win. I know how to get every advantage of them. So say no more.'
"The sun had scarcely gilded that portion of the dark line of the Rock that juts out boldly toward the western horizon, before all the warriors, with O-ton-son-e-var at their head, marched silently toward the tree and beckoned us to come.
PACER'S SON—CHIEF OF ALL THE APACHES.
"Quickly we were on the prairie beside them, when they opened a space, and we walked in their center without exchanging a word. There were only thirty left of that band of sixty proud warriors who had commenced the attack on us the day before, and I could see by the scowls with which they regarded us, and by the convulsive clutching at their knives by the younger ones, that it was only the presence and power of O-ton-son-e-var which prevented them from taking summary vengeance upon us.
"As soon as we reached the tree, O-ton-son-e-var paced the two hundred steps, and arranged his warriors on either side, who in a moment stripped themselves to the waist, and each seizing his long scalping-knife, and bracing himself, held it high over his head, so as to strike a blow that would carry it to the hilt at once.
"The question of who should be their victim was settled immediately, for as I stepped forward to face that narrow passage of probable death, the chief signaled me back with an impulsive gesture not to be misunderstood, and pointing to Bill, told him to prepare himself for the bloody trial.
"I attempted to protest, and was urging my most earnest words, when O-ton-son-e-var said he had decided, and 'the young man must run,' adding that 'even a drop of blood from any one of the knives meant death to both.'
"Each savage stood firm, with his glittering blade reflecting the rays of the evening sun, and on each hard cold face a determination to have the heart's blood of their victim.
"The case seemed almost hopeless—it was truly a race for life; and as Bill prepared himself I wished ourselves back on the Rock, with only as many good bullets as the number of red devils who stood before us, the very impersonation of all the hatred of the detestable red man.