“Yes.”
I could not help seeing that he considered me the most dangerous of his white allies, and wanted to get rid of me; for it goes without saying that his champion would be skilled in the use of the knife. Nevertheless, after short consideration I answered: “I agree; we will smoke the pipe of covenant, then the combat may begin.”
“What are you talking about?” cried Sam. “You can’t be so foolish as to go into such a fight.”
“It is not folly, my dear Sam.”
“The greatest folly possible. In a fair fight the chances would be equal, but they’re far from so here. Did you ever have a fight to the death with knives?”
“No.”
“There; you see? Your opponent will, of course, be skilled with the knife. And then think of the consequences of such a fight. If you die, the Apaches die, too; but if you kill your adversary, who is the worse for it? No one.”
“But if I win, the Apaches get their lives and freedom.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Certainly; for it will be sealed by the solemn pipe of covenant.”