“That’s what they said, and you deserve it. I only hope if you do escape you’ll be half decent in the future; and I guess you will be, for the body of Kleki-Petrah will be a strong medicine for you.”
“Where is the main band of the Apaches which is out against the Kiowas?” I asked.
“I don’t know; nothing was said of that. It doesn’t matter to us.”
Little Sam was mistaken in that; it was far from unimportant to us where this band was, as we discovered in a few days.
Sam continued: “As I had heard enough, I should have come back to you at once; but it was dark, and I couldn’t see the trail till dawn, so I waited. I stayed all night hidden in the wood, and my legs were almost broken. I was six miles from here, and I had to go out of my way to get back unseen. And that is all I have to tell you.”
“But you said you were going to show yourself to them.”
“I know, and I should have done so, only—hark! did you hear anything?”
The scream of an eagle, thrice repeated, came from the woods.
“That’s the Kiowa spies,” he said. “They are over there in the trees. I told them to give me this sign when they saw the Apaches on the savanna. Come, sir; we’ll try what sort of eyes you have.”
This invitation was addressed to me. Sam rose to go, and I took my gun to follow him.