"And will this ravine be my very own?" Jim asked—"mother's and mine?"
"Yes, my boy; and I am curious to see what you will make of it, and what you will make of yourself while you are waiting to come into your possessions. I mean to put you in the way of getting a good practical education, which shall be of use to you out here."
"And can I learn surveying?"
"Yes; and mining engineering and assaying and mechanics, and all that."
"That is what Lovey Dimple would like to learn too. Can he come with me? He'd invent a machine right off to dig the silver just as easy."
"We will see, Jim. I would like to give him a good turn for his father's sake; but don't take too many into our company, or we shall have to water the stock too freely."
They had nearly reached the head of the gorge, and they found that Charles Sumner had paused, and had corraled his cows in a little natural amphitheatre, where they were resting contentedly.
"I must watch them pretty sharply," the Indian explained, "for the corn I told you about is in the next valley, and if they should get into that, they would be as bad as our relations. Just walk to the top of the hill, Mr. Armstrong, and see what a nice field of it I have over there." Mr. Armstrong returned bringing an armful of fine roasting ears, but Charles Sumner thought it best not to build a fire until the party of Utes had passed, and they sat down to a cold supper of canned baked beans. After supper Jim had a long talk with Charles Sumner, and ascertained that the young man had fixed his heart upon making this particular section his home farm as soon as the reservation should be divided in severalty among the Indians, which he hoped would happen before many years.
"Then," said Jim, "you think that the white people will never have a chance to come in here and take up land?"
"Do you think they ought to be allowed to do so, when the land is ours?" Charles Sumner asked.