Was the voice nearer than before? Was this only a trick of the Navajos to get him off his guard? Stephens mistrusted that it was so; but he coolly made reply. "Why do your men shoot at me, Mahletonkwa? I want to talk to you. I want that Mexican girl, the Señorita Sanchez, whom you have carried off." He would see if they were open to an offer.
"Who is with you?" asked the voice of Mahletonkwa. "Who are those behind you? Where are the soldiers?"
Stephens determined to try to run a bluff.
"They're coming," said he confidently. "Don't you delude yourself. We've got force enough to take her back. You'd better surrender her quietly at once."
"Pooh!" answered Mahletonkwa tauntingly, "you've got no soldiers. The storekeeper burnt the letter you sent to the general, I know."
This was a blow to Stephens, and the moment he heard the Indian say it, he recognised the probability of its truth. Backus must have played traitor, and, what was more, he must have told the Navajos that he had done so. This Indian could never have invented such a story himself.
"Suppose he did," returned Stephens, determined to keep up his bluff; "that doesn't prevent me meeting Captain Pfeiffer and a troop of cavalry on the road and bringing them along." He raised his voice so that all those Indians who were within earshot might hear him. "If you dare hurt one hair of the señorita's head, you will every one of you be shot or hanged. You mark me."
While he was speaking the Navajo who had fired at him twice already put up his head for a third shot, but he bobbed it down quicker than before as the ready Winchester came up to the American's cheek.
The prospector lowered his piece once more instead of letting fly; he was determined not to throw away his first shot. He had plenty of cartridges, but he knew that to risk beginning with a miss would only embolden his enemies, and he meant to strike terror from the start.