Winnetou, the Apache Knight

by Marion Ames Taggart; Karl May

“I’ll keep dark, Sam.”

“I hope so; and if you succeed I’ll give you credit for it, and think maybe after ten years you may amount to something.”

I stuck my knife and revolver deep in my belt, not to lose them on the way, and crept away from the fire. Now as I tell it, I know the awful risk I took so lightly. I had no idea of spying on the chief; I wanted to set Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou free. I had set my heart on doing it myself, but Sam Hawkins stood in the way of my desire with his caution. Even if I did succeed in spying on Tangua, I was afraid Sam would not let me go to Winnetou, so I thought I would better make sure of going while I had a chance. In doing this I not only risked my own life and the lives of the Indians, but those of my comrades; for if I were discovered it was all up with them, and I knew this quite well, but it made little impression on my youthful self-confidence. Nor did the fact that I had never crawled silently among enemies, Indian fashion, deter me in the least; I felt perfectly sure of success.

The distance between our fire and the spot where Intschu-Tschuna and Winnetou were bound was not more than fifty feet. I knew the best way to creep there was on the fingers and toes; but it needed strength in these members which I did not possess, so I crawled on my hands and knees like a quadruped. Before I put a hand down I first felt the spot to make sure there were no twigs that would crackle under the weight of my body and thus betray me; and if I had to go under or between branches I tested them carefully to make sure that I could get through. So of course I went slowly, very, very slowly, but I did make some progress.

The Apaches were tied to trees on each side of the grassy plain, the two chiefs on the left from our camp-fire. The trees stood at the edge of the grass, and scarcely five feet away sat the Indian, appointed especially to watch them because of their importance. This would make my task very difficult, perhaps impossible; but I had a plan for distracting his attention, at least for a moment, though to carry it out I needed stones, and none seemed to be within reach.

I had put perhaps half my way behind me, and had been gone over half an hour—twenty-five feet in half an hour!—when I saw something gleaming at one side, and crawling over to it found to my great delight a small depression in the earth filled with sand that was washed into it by the recent rain and the overflow of the little stream. I filled my pocket with the sand and crept on.

After another good half-hour I found myself at last behind Winnetou and his father, possibly four feet away. The trees to which they were bound, with their backs towards me, were not broad enough to cover me, but luckily a leafy branch stood out at the foot of them which hid me from the guard. A few feet behind him, again, there was a thorny bush upon which I had designs.

I crawled first behind Winnetou, and there lay still a few minutes to observe the guard. He seemed tired, for his eyes drooped as if it cost him an effort to keep them open, for which I was grateful. Now I must find out how Winnetou was fastened. I reached cautiously around the trunk of the tree, and felt of his feet and legs. Of course he perceived this, and I feared he would make a movement which would betray me, but he was much too wise and had too much presence of mind for that. I found his feet were tied together and bound by a thong to the tree, so that two knife-cuts would be necessary. I saw by the flickering firelight that his hands were crossed from right to left and bound backward to the tree, and one cut would suffice to loose them. Now something occurred to me of which I had not thought before: when Winnetou was freed he might take to flight instantly, and that would put me in the greatest danger. I thought and thought, but could find no way out of the difficulty; I must risk it, and if the Apache sprang away at once I must save myself with equal speed.

How mistaken I was in Winnetou! I did not know him. We have discussed his liberation since, and he has told me that when he first felt my hand he believed it to be an Apache’s. True, all whom he had brought with him were captured, but it was possible that he had been followed by a scout to bring him news of the main body of his braves. He was sure that he was to be freed, and waited confidently the cutting of his bonds. But he certainly would not fly at once, for he would not go without his father, nor would he endanger the life of him who freed him.

I cut the two lower bands; the upper ones I could not reach in my present position without risk of cutting Winnetou’s hands. So I must stand up, and it was nearly certain the guard would see me. But I had brought the sand for such a moment. I thrust my hand into my pocket, took out a handful of it, and threw it past the guard into the bush behind him. This made a rustle; the Indian turned and looked at the bush. A second handful aroused his attention thoroughly—a poisonous reptile might be hidden in there—and he rose, turned around, and examined it carefully. Quick as a flash I had cut the thongs. In doing so I felt Winnetou’s splendid hair in my eyes, and I seized a strand in my left hand, cut it off with the right, and then sank to the ground again. Why did I do this? To have proof that it was really I who had freed him.