Tad's face went fiery red. He could not stand idly and witness the abuse of an animal. The lad leaped forward and stood confronting the young buck with flaming face. Tad would have struck the Indian had Nance not been on the spot. With a powerful hand he thrust Tad behind him, saying something in the Indian language to Afraid Of His Face, which caused the buck to smile faintly and proceed on his mission.
"If you had struck him you never would have gotten out of here alive," whispered the guide. Stacy had been a witness to the proceeding. He smiled sarcastically when Tad came back to where the fat boy was standing.
"Folks who live in glass houses, should not shy rocks," observed the fat boy wisely.
By that time the squaws were setting out corn cakes, dried peaches and a heap of savory meat that was served on a bark platter. The meal was spread on a bright blanket regardless of the fact that grease from the meat was dripping over the beautiful piece of weaving. The boys thought it a pity to see so wonderful a piece of work ruined so uselessly, but they made no comment. Then all sat down, the Indians squatting on their haunches, while the white men seated themselves on the ground. There were neither knives nor forks. Fingers were good enough for the noble red man.
First, before beginning the meal, the Kohot lighted a great pipe and took a single puff. Then he passed it to Professor Zepplin, who, with a sheepish look at the Pony Rider Boys, also took a puff.
Stacy came next. The chief handed the pipe to the fat boy in person.
Stacy's face flushed.
"Thank you, but I don't smoke," he said politely. The lines of the chief's face tightened. It was an insult to refuse to smoke the pipe of peace when offered by the Kohot.
CHAPTER XXI
CHUNKY GETS A TURKISH BATH
"Put it to your lips. You don't have to smoke it," whispered Dad. "It won't do to refuse."