CHAPTER X.
THE CAPTURE OF WINNETOU.
For more than an hour we sat waiting the attack, and then concluded that we had been right and the Apaches would not come until we were asleep. The fire was getting low, and I thought there was no use in putting off the evil hour, so I yawned, stretched myself, and said: “I’m tired, and I’d like to go to sleep; how about you, Sam?”
“I’ve no objection,” he said. “The fire is going out anyway. Good night, then.”
“Good night,” repeated all, and getting back from the fire as far as we could we stretched ourselves out at full length. The flame grew dimmer and dimmer, till it died out altogether, only the ashes still glowing; but the light could not reach us because of the wood piled between us and the fire, and we lay entirely in the shadow.
Now was the time to get quietly, very quietly, into safety. I reached for my gun, and slowly crept away. Sam kept at my side, the others following. When I reached the horses I stirred them up that the noise of their stamping might cover any possible rustling we might make in going. We came over safely to the Kiowas, who stood like panthers crouching for prey.
“Sam,” I whispered, “if we want to spare the two chiefs we mustn’t let a Kiowa get at them: understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take Winnetou; you and Stone and Parker look after Intschu-Tschuna.”
“One for you alone, and one for us three together? That’s no way to do.”
“Yes, it is. I’ll finish up Winnetou in short order, and there should be three to take charge of his father, for his braves will be around him, and if he should resist it would cost him his life.”