I smiled at the beautiful Indian girl quite cheerfully, and said: “The sweet Fair Day will see that I shall live on many days.”
She shook her head. “You are condemned by a council of the elders,” she said.
“They will decide otherwise when they hear that I am innocent.”
“They will not believe it.”
“They must, for I can prove it.”
“Oh, prove it, prove it!” she cried. “Nscho-Tschi would be glad indeed if she could know you were no liar and traitor. Tell me your proof, or give it to me, and let me take it to Winnetou.”
“Let him come to me to learn what it is.”
“He will not do that.”
“Nor will I send to him. I am not accustomed to sue for friendship, nor send messengers to one who can come to me.”
“How unrelenting you warriors are! I should have been so glad to have brought you Winnetou’s forgiveness.”