He raised his gun to strike me, but Winnetou sprang forward, caught it, and cried: “The Kiowa chief must be quiet. Old Shatterhand has spoken boldly, but I agree with him. Intschu-Tschuna, my father, the chief of all the Apaches, may allow him to say all that he has to say.”
Tangua had to obey, and Intschu-Tschuna granted his son’s request.
He came near me, and said: “Old Shatterhand is like a bird of prey, that still rends though he is caged. Did you not knock Winnetou down twice? Have you not even struck me with your fist?”
“Did I do it willingly? Did you not force me to it?” I demanded.
“Forced you?” he repeated, amazed.
“Certainly. Your warriors would not listen to a word from us; they attacked us so fiercely that we had to defend ourselves; but ask them if we wounded them, though we might have killed them. Then when you came up and attacked me, you would not listen to me either; I had to defend myself, and I might have shot or stabbed you, but I knocked you down because I was your friend and would not do you real harm. Then came Tangua, the Kiowa chief, and wanted to take your scalp, and because I would not let him he attacked me, and I conquered him. Then—”
“This miserable coyote lies as if he had a hundred tongues,” cried Tangua.
“Are they really lies?” asked Winnetou.
“Yes; I hope my young brother Winnetou does not doubt my word.”
“I begin to; you lay senseless like my father when I came; that agrees with his story. Let Old Shatterhand continue.”