The Treasure of Nugget Mountain

The Treasure of Nugget Mountain
Jack Hildreth Among the Indians
By Karl May

Translated and Adapted from Karl May by Marion Ames Taggart
Copyright, 1898, by Benzinger Brothers.
This is an unauthorized translation of Karl May's novels "Winnetou II & III". The text was heavily abridged and edited by the translator. One major change is that Old Shatterhand's real name is Jack Hildreth instead of Charley, i.e. implicitly Karl May. Nevertheless we hope that this text will provide some insight into Karl May's books to non-German speaking readers.
The scanned electronic text was proofread by John Brinkman.

THE TREASURE OF NUGGET MOUNTAIN
CHAPTER I.

A JOURNEY AND A MEETING

IT is certainly true that no man knows what the future holds for him. When I, Jack Hildreth, newly graduated from college, won the consent of my uncle and second father, whose namesake and heir I was, to go West to see life, I little dreamed of the experience that lay before me. I had gone as a civil engineer to survey for a railroad that was to run through the lands of the Apaches, in the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico. The greatest chief of all the Apache tribes was Intschu-Tschuna, and he and his son Winnetou had defeated the attempted unjust invasion of their rights, had slain all my comrades, except the three scouts who accompanied us, and it was only by showing that courage and skill which the red man so profoundly admires that I succeeded in convincing the Indians that I was trustworthy, and saving myself and the scouts, Sam Hawkins, Dick Stone, and Will Parker, from death by torture. But once having accepted me, there was no reservation in their love for me. I had been made a full son of Intschu-Tschuna, and a brother of Winnetou by drinking the blood of that true knight of the plains, as he had drunk mine, and our kinship and brotherhood was not one in name merely, but in very truth and deed, for I had come to love and admire the high-minded, brave young Indian as I have never before or since loved another friend, and his love for me was equally strong.
A whole winter had passed since the morning in late autumn when the Apaches burst upon us and put an end to the work on which we were sent. It had been a winter of the greatest interest, passed as it was in closest intimacy with Intschu-Tschuna, Winnetou, and his beautiful young sister Nscho-Tschi, the Fair Day, who, when I first came among the Apaches, and was still under sentence of death as a traitor and a thief of their lands, had been my gentle nurse through a long and dangerous fever.
Winnetou had not only taught me the Apache tongue, but also all that skill in hunt and warfare which has been the Indian's inheritance for countless generations, and of which he was a master. Intschu-Tschuna made me wise in the lore of his people, and the sweet Fair Day showed me that a loving daughter and sister, a true-hearted and gentle maiden, was to the red Indian, as to the white, his most precious possession.
But the pleasantest life must end, the sunniest days pass. When the spring came I told Intschu-Tschuna that I must go back to my home in the distant East, though I would return later to my new and faithful friends. The chief's face grew sad at these tidings, but he said: "Intschu-Tschuna feared that his white son would go to the sea in the rising sun, even as the rivers flow toward it when the winter is past. Will you stay with those pale-faces who would have built the railroad?"
"No."
"That is right. You have become a brother of the red man, and ought not have any share in further attempts on his lands and property. But where you wish to go you cannot live by the chase as you can here. Winnetou has told me that you would have had money had we not come upon you and stopped your work, and he has asked me to make this up to you. The red men know the places where gold is found; they need only take it away. Do you wish me to get some for you?"
Others in my place might have said yes eagerly, and received nothing, but I saw the peculiar keenness of his eyes as they watched me, and answered, "I thank you. There is no satisfaction in riches that a man gets without effort; only that for which he has labored and struggled possesses value."
His gaze softened; he gave me his hand, and said heartily: "Your words tell me that we are not deceived in you. The golden dust for which the white gold hunters strive is a deadly dust. It destroys those who find it.