Seeing that Bancroft was shifting about in his mind for a way out of his difficulty, Intschu-Tschuna rose, saying decidedly: “There is no need of further speech. I have spoken. My will is that you leave here to-day, and go back whence you came. Decide whether you will obey or not. I will now depart with my son Winnetou, and will return at the end of that time which the pale-faces call an hour, when you will give me your answer. If you go, we are brothers; if you stay, it shall be deadly enmity between you and me. I am Intschu-Tschuna, the chief of all the Apaches. I have spoken.”
Winnetou followed him as he went out from among us, and they were soon lost to sight down the valley.
Kleki-Petrah remained seated, and Bancroft turned to him and asked his advice. He replied: “Do as you will, sir. I am of the chief’s opinion. The red race has been cruelly outraged and robbed. But as a white man I know that the Indian must disappear. If you are an honest man and go to-day, to-morrow another will come to carry on your work. I warn you, however, that the chief is in earnest.”
He, too, rose, as if to put an end to further questioning. I went up to him and said: “Sir, will you let me go with you? I promise to do or say nothing that will annoy you. It is only because I feel extraordinary interest in Intschu-Tschuna, and even more in Winnetou.”
That he himself was included in this interest I dared not say.
“Yes, come with me a little way,” he replied. “I have withdrawn from my race, and must know them no more; but since you have crossed my path, there can be no harm in our meeting, and some good may result from it. We will walk a little together. You seem to me the most intelligent of these men; am I right?”
“I am the youngest, and not clever, and I should be honored if you allowed me to go with you,” I answered respectfully.
“Come, then,” said Kleki-Petrah kindly, and we walked slowly away from the camp.