The Havasu River, which the riders followed, extended right on through the village, below which were many scattering homes of the red men, but the majority of them lived in the village itself. Almost the entire length of the creek, both in the village and below, the river is bordered with cottonwood, mesquite and other green trees, that furnish shade for the quaint village nestling in the heart of the great Canyon.
The boys followed the water course until finally they were approached by half a dozen men—-indians—-who had come out to meet them.
Nance made a sign. The Indians halted, gazed, then started forward.
In the advance was the Kohot or native chief.
"Hello, Tom," greeted the guide.
"How!" said the chief.
"Tom is a funny name for an Indian," observed Chunky.
"His name is Chick-a-pan-a-gi, meaning 'the bat'," answered Jim smilingly.
"He looks the part," muttered the fat boy.
"Tom, I've brought some friends of mine down to see you and your folks.
Have you anything to eat?"
"Plenty eat."