She was speaking in her brother's hearing, and Steve was at no great distance at that very moment, talking, in a low, earnest tone, with Murray.
Rita replied, "He is young. Send Warning is a warrior—" But Red Wolf broke in, very honestly, with,
"Knotted Cord is my brother. Only his skin is white. Not his heart. He is a warrior. He has been on war-paths. He has seen the Lipans, the Comanches, the Pawnees, the Mexicans. He is not a boy."
Ni-ha-be's little "pet" was blown away by that, and she looked once more admiringly at the strong and handsome young pale-face. If he had only been so fortunate as to be born an Apache, what might not have been expected of him!
The girls had many questions to ask concerning the events of the night before, and Red Wolf was in an accommodating frame of mind that morning. It was right, too, in his opinion, that the squaws of his family should be able to boast among the other squaws of the mighty doings of their father and brother. That was the way the reputations of warriors were to be made and kept up, aided now and then by the good things they might see fit to say about themselves.
In all that there is just this difference between red men and white, and it would soon disappear with civilization.
That is, when a great white "brave" of any kind does a thing he is proud of he manages to have the story of it printed in the newspapers, so that all his boasting is done for him by somebody else.
The Indian "brave" is compelled to be his own newspaper, and tell his own story of himself. That is all, and it sometimes makes the poor red man appear to be the vainer of the two, which is a great injustice.
The conversation between Steve and Murray could not be overheard by their friends, but it must have been of more than a little importance, to judge by the expression that came and went upon their faces. No Indian warrior's face would have betrayed his feelings in such a manner.
Dolores was busy at the camp-fires, as usual, with her frying-pan, and they were looking at her.