“He begged me to be true to you.”
“Be true—to me? You did not know me then.”
“I knew you, for I had seen you; and whoever sees Winnetou must know what kind of a man stands before him. Besides, Kleki-Petrah told me of you.”
“What answer did you give him?”
“I promised to fulfil his wish.”
“It was his last wish. You then became his heir. You promised him to be true to me, and you protected me, guarded me, watched over me while I pursued you as my enemy. The knife-thrust I gave you would have been fatal to another, but your stronger frame it only wounded. I am very, very guilty towards you. Be my friend.”
“I have long been that.”
“My brother.”
“With all my heart.”
“Then we will cement the bond over the grave of him who gave my soul into your care. A noble pale-face has gone from us, and even in going has given us another equally noble. My blood shall be your blood, and your blood shall be my blood; I will drink yours, and you shall drink mine. Intschu-Tschuna, the greatest chief of the Apaches, my father, will consent to this?”