"Then you take Ulna's place. You all same like Ulna to us. We take you to Apaches, way off," and the chief waved his hands to the south where the purple peaks of the San Francisco range could be seen rising into the bluest of blue skies.

"Would you kill a man because he loved his friend?" asked Sam with a calmness of manner that did not at all indicate his feelings.

"When man's friend my foe-yes."

"But Ulna would not do that."

"You think so."

"I am sure he would not."

"Ha! you don't know Ute."

"I know Ulna," persisted Sam.

"Ulna he like take my scalp."

"I am sure he would not hurt you unless it was to save his own life. The whites have taught him better."

"The whites!" repeated the chief, with a grunt of contempt. "Oh, yes, the whites, heap fine the whites. They take all Apaches' land, kill his wife, kill him when he don't like it. Apache don't go to white man's land; why, then, he comes here we no send for him?"

Sam saw that this was a mixed question to which the answer could not be truthfully given unless it agreed with the Indian's notion of right, still he said evasively:

"All men do wrong at times, but all men should try to do right."

"What is right? what is wrong? White man think one thing, Apache think another thing; no one know. Sit down on stone; I wait till braves come back with Ulna's scalp, then all leave."

Without waiting for any comment, Blanco again snapped the fingers of both hands above his head, and turned away to show he did not care to discuss the subject further.

This conversation took place near the point of rocks in which Sam and his friends had spent the previous night.

On some of the outlying stones Ike and Wah Shin were seated, eagerly watching the chief, while their faces showed that they were taking anything but a hopeful view of the situation.

"Mistah Sam, w'at you t'ink 'bout dis time?" asked Ike as he placed a blanket for his young master to sit on.

"I hardly know what to think, Ike," was the reply.

"Don't you t'ink we made a mistake?"

"In what way, Ike?"

"By comin' up out ob dat canyon."

"Would you want to stay there forever?"

"Wa'al, not adzackly; but if I had any choosin 'bout it I'd a heap sight rudder be dar dan heah. I neber did hab no use for a Injun nohow. Jest only tink, dey's been a-watchin' an' a-watchin' Maj, an' a-lickin' ob dar lips as if dey was feelin' how he tasted. But if dey gits away wid dat dog den dey'll hab to steal him whin dis yar chile's asleep," said Ike, and he reached out and pulled the dog nearer to him by means of a rope he had fastened about his neck.

"Dogee, he no so belly bad fol to make eat. Way off Chinaland fat dogee allee same's nice lilly tulkey. Big man he like him muchee heap."

"Wa'al," said Ike, with ludicrous contempt, "I tanks de Great Mastah I ain't a Injun or a Chinee. Dar's only two decent kind ob people; one's black, like me, de odder's w'ite like Mistah Sam. But," he added, with a sigh, "I don't go foh to blame no one jest kase dey's so unfortnit as not to be ob de right culah."

Sam could not keep his mind on the very funny discussion which followed between Ike and Wah Shin, as to the merits of their respective races. He was thinking of his beloved father, and wondering if he still lived and was waiting for the paper that was to prove his innocence, by showing to the world that he could have had no possible motive for desiring the death of Tom Edwards.

One, two, three hours pa.s.sed and the fierce sun poured down a blistering heat on the bare rocks, till the hot air rose in shivering, shimmering waves, that distorted every object seen at any distance, and threw into the most fantastic shapes the hills that studded the wide plateau.

Every few minutes Sam looked to the east, expecting the return of the braves who had gone in pursuit of Ulna, but it was not till the sun had been past the zenith more than an hour, that his keen gaze detected four figures-the mirage gave them the appearance of giant spectres-approaching at a deliberate pace.

Blanco made the discovery about the same time, and at once sent a messenger to hurry up the pursuers. He did not need to be told that his braves had not been successful in their mission, for had they been returning with a scalp they would not have been so deliberate in their movements.

When the braves were within a few hundred yards, Blanco ran out to meet them, and seeing that one of them was wounded he said:

"Did the Ute win?"

"He did," replied the wounded man. "An antelope could not have kept up with him had he put forth all his speed."

"Yet, you came close enough to him to catch his bullet," said the puzzled chief.

"Yes, and close enough to lose my scalp, if Ulna had cared to take it,"

said the brave, with a candor but rarely manifested by a savage.

In answer to the chief's desire to learn how this unusual event came about, the brave told frankly and truthfully the whole story, even to the conversation he had with Ulna before he left.

This story evidently had a powerful effect on Blanco, for he stroked his forehead for some minutes, and then said:

"The Utes are changing; the Apaches must change too. I will not harm the young white man who told me the truth."

Turning, the chief strode quickly to the place where Sam was sitting and eagerly watching, and then extending his hand, he said with some feeling in his voice:

"You no tell lie. Ulna is good. Ulna escape. I am glad in my heart, for he no take life one of my braves when he can."

Sam could hardly credit his ears, but there was no mistaking the expression on the swarthy face, despite its half-covering of war paint, so he shook the chief's hand and said with a great sense of relief:

"I told you the truth about Ulna, I tell you the truth about myself. Now guide me to Hurley's Gulch and I will pay you all I promised."

For reasons which he did not state, the chief said he could not go to Hurley's Gulch, but he was willing to guide Sam part of the way there, and to take all the rifles and other weapons they had with them as part payment, the other things promised to be sent out to a certain point two days after the party reached the Gulch.

These were certainly anything but generous terms, but as Sam was in no humor to press a close bargain, he agreed to them at once.

There was not much preparation to be made. All the canteens were filled with water, and about the middle of the afternoon they began the march for Hurley's Gulch, which the chief said could be reached the next afternoon, though he would leave them in the morning.

With a lighter heart than he had carried for many a day, Sam, with Ike, Wah Shin, and the dog following him in the order named, started off by the side of the chief.

They moved so fast that by dark, when they went into camp in the bottom of a gulch where there was water, they had traveled at least twenty miles.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.-IN GREATER PERIL STILL.