At the blaze of noon on Spanish Flats, Colonel Crook and Colorados sat across from each other on rocks, talked and smoked. Nan-Tan-Lupan smoked a cigar and Colorados smoked the pipe that Ike Silver had given him.
“Colorados, it is sometimes harder to keep the peace than to make war. Some of your braves won’t like it.”
“And some bluecoats won’t like it either.”
Crook nodded.
“Too many Apaches have killed troopers and too many troopers have killed Apaches.”
“Yes.”
“But it’s got to stop sometime, and this is as good a time and place for both sides to stop. Now, I’m working on getting you a pardon, but it will take time and effort on the part of both of us. The first step in ending a war is to declare a truce. To prove to your people and to my superiors that we can live in peace.”
“We know where the white man lives, but where will the Apache live during this time of truce?”
“Right where you are now, and I don’t want to know where that is. I will send cattle and supplies to Spanish Flats where you can pick them up.”
“Good.”
“But you must agree that the Apaches will not strike against the troopers, that the stagecoach and supply wagons and the settlers will pass through the Territory in peace. . . .”
“That will not be easy.”
“It must be done—by you and by me. We must show both sides. After a time, I promise that you can have a place where you can live and hunt as you did before.”
“A place that the white man chooses for us?”
“No. You will make that choice. This I promise. But know that first this truce must last for many moons.”
“How many?”
“Not as many as you spent in prison. Will you agree?”
“Did Gray Wolf bring a paper to be signed?”
“No. Your word and my word is much stronger than any paper.”
Two Apache tribal elders watched and heard, along with Captain Bourke and another officer, as Crook and Colorados spoke.
And from a distance, two other men watched but could not hear; still, they had a pretty good idea of what was being said.
Rupert Lessur and Quemada.
“The army talks and makes promises, Quemada, but always it breaks its word and takes what it wants from the Apaches.”
“Colorados does not speak for all Apaches. I will walk away and there are Apaches who will follow.”
“No.”
“You and I were both better off when Colorados was in prison. It will be so again. The time will come to strike, but let them think it was the doing of Colorados, not of those who walked away.”
“And what of the mine?”
“The time will come for that, too. The mine is in business for a profit. Take away the profit and they’re out of business.”
“And the man who brought Colorados and Crook together?”
“Ike Silver.”
Quemada nodded.
“I’ll see that he’s out of business too.”