"What's that?" asked several of the boys.
"A charm. Taken from the grave of one of my ancestors. There were just two in our tribe, and an old squaw gave it to me before I came to the Fort. Some one else in the family has the other one. She said it was the family charm and nothing could happen to me as long as I wore it."
Hawke smiled at this characteristic explanation, but the boys took it very seriously.
"Remember anything about your father, Carl?" asked the aviator, interested in the story nevertheless.
"They told me he was the bravest man in his tribe, and the swiftest runner. They wanted to make him chief, but his older brother, who was not so well liked, wanted to be made chief also and grew jealous of my father. One day a party of them went out on a hunt, and my father was separated from the bunch. They found him later in the forest, lying face downward with an arrow straight through him. Everybody thought my uncle did it. He went away soon after."
"What about the old squaw?" inquired Gray.
"Oh, she died just before I came here. She was over a hundred. I have her old pipe. She gave me a lot of things that were my father's—a fine quiver and his bow. I remember what she said when she gave it to me. 'Your father was a brave man and a great hunter,' she said. 'See that you do not disgrace him.' I have the arrow that killed him, and the blanket which my mother wove. They're in my room at the fort."
By this time the mist had lifted and the sun had gone down. They were walking in a narrow passage which almost amounted to a gorge. Huge jagged rocks jutted out here and there on either side, many of them squeezing between them some deserted cliff dwelling. Rugged brown shrubs clung stubbornly to the sides or grew sparsely on the surface wherever they could find soil. The whole scene was softened by the warm colors of the departing sunlight.
"Good-bye pony!" exclaimed Fred, when they reached the spot where they had left the animal.
"Nowhere in sight," added Fly.