“Yes, that’s so, Donald,” the fat boy went on in his wheedling, insinuating way; “but I’ve been told that whenever you expect to take a journey into any foreign country the first thing to do is to get guide books, and read up all you can about the people, their strange habits, and so-forth. In that way you can understand them much quicker than if
you didn’t know beans about the lot. And so, the more I can hear about these Hopi and Zuni Indians, who all belong to the family of cliff dwellers, and are so different from every other tribe that ever inhabited North America, why, the quicker I’ll understand what a lot of queer things they do stand for.”
Adrian pretended to clap his hands as if in applause.
“Seems as if he’s got you there, Donald,” he went on to remark. “A heap of sound sense in what Billie says.”
“Oh!” remarked the fat boy, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “I do have a bright thought once a year, you know. Of course it’s only an accident, and couldn’t be helped; but strike up, Donald, and tell me something about that old medicine man who is the queerest of the whole bunch I take it, from what I’ve read, and heard about him.”
Donald looked sharply at the speaker. He did not underestimate Billie, and knew that many times the fat boy had proven to be far from being the numbskull he pretended he was.
“Well, whatever put that notion in your head,” Donald observed, “it’s as true as anything going. Remember that I’ve only run across a batch of these cliff-dwellers once, when dad took me to see the wonderful Colorado Canyon, where heaps
of their rock homes can be seen high up in the walls of the biggest hole in all the world. So that what I know about these Zunis we’re on the way to visit I’ve had only from the lips of others, generally cowboys who like to stretch things, you understand.”
“All right; we’ll make allowances for the exaggerations of Bunch, Si Ketcham, Corney, Skinny, Alkali or even the chink cook, Ah Chin Chin. Now start in, please, Donald.”
“In the first place,” began the other, thoughtfully, “the old chap who rattles the dry bones, and plays the part of medicine man to the Zunis has been known all over the country for many years as the sharpest of his kind. He’s got a genuine Indian name, of course, which I couldn’t pronounce even if I remembered it; but they tell me it stands for Witch Doctor, and that’s what we’ll have to call him, I reckon.”