There were half a dozen Indian sun shelters near the spring, each a mere cat's claw and yucca thatch, supported on cedar posts. To Roger's surprise and gratification the Indians were at home. It was still early and they were at breakfast. With Peter trailing like a dog, Charley and Roger stopped a short distance from the camp.
Old Rabbit Tail, in his breech clout, squatted near a pot of simmering stew, now dipping in a long handled spoon and eating from it meditatively, now puffing at a yellow cigarette. Several squaws in dirty calico dresses, squatted near by awaiting their turn. Each shelter held a similar group, every one of which paused in breathless interest as the two whites approached.
Roger strode directly up to the old chief. "Good morning, Rabbit Tail!" he said.
Rabbit Tail grunted.
"I came up to have a talk with you," Roger went on, pulling out his pipe. "Sit down, Charley, this is going to be a regular pow-wow."
A tall Indian in the next shelter rose slowly and started quietly toward the back trail. "Hey! Qui-tha!" called Roger, sternly, "Come back here! I've something to say to you. The sheriff ought to have you. Call him, Rabbit Tail."
Rabbit Tail spoke in Hualapai and Qui-tha came slowly up to the old chief's shelter and dropping down beside him, lighted a cigarette. Charley, sitting on a rock at a little distance, chin in hand, arm on knee, shivered slightly in the broiling sun. Roger, who had learned much about Indians from Qui-tha, jerked his thumb at Charley.
"You know that white woman, Rabbit Tail?"
"Four years!" replied the chief.
"What kind of a woman is she--eh?"
"Good woman. My squaw have papoose one time in her 'dobe. Charley take care her all same she her sister. Heap good white squaw, Charley."
The squaw in question nodded and smiled at Charley, who smiled in return, a little sadly. Roger turned to Qui-tha.
"How about her brother, Dick Preble? You like him?"
Qui-tha, his brown face expressionless, nodded. "Yes! Most whites steal and lie. Dick he never steal or lie to Injun. Good man, except when drunk."
"Exactly," Roger clutched his pipe bowl firmly. "Did you tell 'em about the little girl--eh?"
Qui-tha looked up in honest surprise. "Tell what 'bout little girl?"
Roger turned to Rabbit Tail. "You haven't heard about what Qui-tha did to little girl?"
"Me no touch little girl," exclaimed Qui-tha, indignantly. "Have fight with Dick', no touch little girl. Like little girl, bring her home when she get lost up here."
"You know how Dick is a devil when he gets drunk?"