Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Part 18

As the canoe slipped in toward the beach, Chips and Midge came running down to help pull the craft up on sh.o.r.e.

"Gee, Mr. Hatfield," Chips exclaimed in relief. "I'm sure glad you're back!"

"Anything wrong, Chips?"

"Well, not exactly." The boy lowered his voice. "But we've got visitors."

"Nothing wrong with that is there?"

"Wait until you see 'em," Chips muttered. "Our visitors are two Indians!

Eagle Feather and White Nose. They've been giving the camp the once over and acting awfully queer about it. The Cubs want you to come quick, Mr.

Hatfield!"

CHAPTER 11 FRIEND OR FOE?

"I'll come right away," Mr. Hatfield rea.s.sured Chips and Midge. "No reason to be alarmed though. Indians don't carry tomahawks these days."

"Maybe not," Chips replied quickly, "but these boys both have knives!"

"They look fierce too," added Midge, with a nervous glance over his shoulder. "Fred and Red are talking to 'em, trying to keep watch so they won't take anything."

"I'll be very glad to meet the pair," Mr. Hatfield said, starting up the path from the beach. "I'm sure though, that there's no cause for uneasiness. They are probably only curious to learn what we're doing here."

"Curious isn't a strong enough word," Chips informed him. "They've snooped into everything-the hogan, the Wells Fargo station we're building and they made a lot of remarks about the sand painting."

"Complimentary ones, I hope," grinned Dan.

"White Nose said something in his own Navajo language," Midge informed him. "Then he spat on the ground."

"Well, I like that!" Dan said indignantly. "I may not be an artist, but my picture isn't that bad. I'm going to give that old Indian a chunk of my mind!"

"Let me handle this, boys," Mr. Hatfield said.

He went ahead of the Cubs to the hogan where Fred, Mack and Red were talking to the two Indians. The pair did not appear unfriendly, but as Chips had said, their inspection of the camp had not been very polite.

"Good afternoon," Mr. Hatfield introduced himself. He extended his hand, and gave his name. "I'm the Cub leader here. Anything we can do for you?"

Neither White Nose or Eagle Feather made reply. They looked Mr. Hatfield over and silently accepted his proffered hand.

"We're a Cub Scout outfit," Mr. Hatfield went on pleasantly enough. "Our camp may look rather odd to you, but we're preparing for an Indian pow-wow. The boys chose the Navajo theme. Maybe you can help us with a few suggestions."

"Cub Scouts!" Eagle Feather repeated. "A good organization."

"The Navajos are starting their own dens now," Mr. Hatfield went on, trying to act friendly. "In fact, our boys are gathering clothing to be sent out to New Mexico."

"That is good," Eagle Feather responded stiffly.

"Is there anything we can do for you?" Mr. Hatfield next inquired.

"Nothing," Eagle Feather shrugged.

"You are searching for someone perhaps?"

"For one of our brothers."

"You'll not find him here," said Mr. Hatfield. "However, someone has been making himself at home in our camp during our absence. We've lost food, and a valuable Navajo blanket."

This information obviously was of great interest to the two Indians. But their only show of it was a sparkle of the eyes.

"Dan, get the blanket that was picked up near the ravine," Mr. Hatfield instructed.

Dan ran to fetch it. As he brought it back, Eagle Feather quickly took it from his hand. He and White Nose both examined the tattered blanket intently, talking earnestly in their own language.

"They recognize that blanket, all right," Red whispered to Midge.

"Either it's theirs, or it belongs to that 'brother' they claim to be looking for," Midge added.

The two Indians did not explain the reason for their interest in the blanket. After their brief but thorough examination, they lost all interest in the item.

Mr. Hatfield was rather annoyed by the visitors' att.i.tude. He did not like the cool manner in which they had made themselves at home in the camp. Nevertheless, he hesitated to order them away, feeling that it would be much better to try to make friends.

"You're Navajos, I believe," he remarked.

"Yes," agreed Eagle Feather, "we are of the People."

"The Cubs would appreciate a little first hand information. How about giving us a talk on the customs and traditions of your people? For instance, you might tell us about the origin of the Fire Dance. We're trying to work one up for presentation at our pow-wow Sat.u.r.day."

The Cubs, especially Dan and Brad, expected Eagle Feather to refuse. But, to their surprise, he appeared flattered by the request.

Mr. Hatfield motioned for the Cubs to gather about in a semi-circle.

Eagle Feather squatted in the center and began to talk, speaking formally, but in perfect English.

He told the Cubs that the Navajos had 27 major chants which they used on ceremonial occasions or for the cure of the sick.

The Fire Dance, or Mountain Chant as it sometimes was called, was the most showy of all the Navajos' ceremonies, he went on.

"The medicine man's whistle marks the start of the dance," Eagle Feather described it. "Twelve dancers with their bodies sprayed white, come in bearing cedar bark torches. As they dance about the log fire, they sing the Fire Dance song about a Sleepy Owl.

"The leader throws a bundle of burning bark to the East. Three other bundles are lighted and hurled to the West, North and South. This, my people believe, will drive away colds and bad luck.

"The dance ends with the lighting of torches and a wild race about the fire. The dancers move faster and faster, fanning their torches into a long flame. The ceremony lasts until daybreak."

"We'll offer a simplified version of the Fire Dance at our pow-wow," Mr.

Hatfield declared. "The Cubs are using flashlights instead of torches."