“Why did you not stop the evil?” Chetopa asked.
“When the stagecoach stopped, I was shot,” Falcon said. He took off his hat to show the scalp wound, a visible scab line through his hair.
Several got up and came forward to bend over and personally inspect the wound, and it was a moment or two before the conversation resumed.
“The bullet knocked me out,” Falcon continued when everyone had regained their seat. “When I came to, I saw that our shotgun guard had been killed, and Yaakos Gan had been taken from the stage by the evil men.”
“Taken by them?” Keytano asked.
“Yes.”
“I do not understand. If they took her, why did they kill her?”
“I believe she fought them,” Falcon said. “And she fought very bravely. I know this because when the men stopped in Pajarito, one of them had knife wounds in his leg. Some way Yaakos Gan managed to get a knife and she stabbed him.”
“Better she should have stabbed him in the heart,” Chetopa said.
Falcon shook his head. “No, it is better this way,” he said. “A doctor in Pajarito saw the wounded white man. The white man has gangrene.”
“What is gangrene?” Keytano asked.
“It is when you begin to die here first,” Falcon said, putting his hand on his leg. “And it moves up so that your body dies a little at a time until your heart dies as well.”
Several in the village nodded, for all had seen cases of gangrene, which they referred to as the “creeping death.”
“Yes, it is good that he has the creeping death,” Keytano agreed. “He will die slow and in much pain.” He nodded. “I am glad that my daughter killed the man who killed her.”
“We must go to war to avenge Yaakos Gan,” Chetopa said.
“No,” Keytano replied.
“Yes!” Chetopa said.
“No,” Keytano said again.
Angrily, Chetopa stood, then walked back and forth within the inner circle.
“Why do you say no? Are we women, to do nothing?” Chetopa challenged. “Or are we warriors?”
Some of the others shouted out then, some in support of Chetopa, some in support of Keytano.
Keytano held up his hand to call for quiet. Then, when silence was restored, he looked at Falcon.
“Dlo Binanta, I would ask that you wait in the wickiup,” he said. “We must speak of this, and the things we say are for our ears only.”
Falcon could have told him that, if they spoke in Apache, he wouldn’t understand what they were saying, but he knew that Keytano knew that and had his own reasons for asking Keytano to leave.
Nodding, Falcon stood up, brushed the dirt from the seat of his pants, then stepped into the wickiup indicated by Keytano. Almost immediately thereafter, one of the Apache women came in behind him, offering him a piece of fry bread.
“Thank you,” Falcon said, accepting the proffered food.
The woman withdrew then, and Falcon ate the bread, pleasantly surprised to learn that the inside of the bread was filled with honey. He enjoyed the treat as he listened to the discourse from outside. They were speaking in Apache so he had no idea what they were talking about, but it sounded quite heated.
“I do not believe this white man,” Chetopa was saying to the others in the council. “I think we should kill him. Give me the word, and I will kill him.”
“Why should we kill the one who brought my daughter back to me?”
“I believe he killed her. I believe he lies when he says there were others who killed her.”
“If he killed her, why would he bring her back?”
“Like all white men, he is a man of deceit. Remember, this is Dlo Binanta. He has killed many of our people. I believe we should kill him. Then we should take up the path of war and kill the others who come to our land.”
“Dlo Binanta killed your brother, so you are angry,” Keytano said. “But your brother was making war against the white man, and those who kill in war are honorable. I believe Dlo Binanta to be such a man. He is an enemy of great honor.”
“He is a white devil!” Chetopa shouted loudly. “And I say kill him now!” He held his war ax above his head and gave a blood-curdling yell that caused fright among some of the children.
Chetoka and Keytano were beginning to get very angry with each other. Then Lapari, a medicine man who was known for his wisdom, held up his hands to call for both to be quiet.
“I have the answer,” he said.
“What is the answer?” Keytano asked.
“We will ask Dlo Binanta to find the white men who did this to Yaakos Gan. He will find them and kill them, then return to us with word that he has done so.”
“How will we know he has killed them?” Chetopa said. “He is a man of deceit. He might say that he has killed
