“I beg your pardon,” said Kaw, gravely. “I was foolish enough to think, for the moment, that you might possibly be going home because you feared the squaw-man, but now that I see by your look that you could never be a coward I know that you will be glad to accompany me down to the man-house.”
“Do you mean to say that you are going back to the Indian den to-night?” asked Wongo, trying to conceal his fear.
“That is a part of my plan, and we will go together. Listen. Since seeing the squaw-man with his cage thing, I have thought of a scheme, and if we carry it out successfully we will be doing ourselves and everybody in Timbertangle a great service. If you will follow my instructions no harm can come to you.”
“Let me hear the plan,” said Wongo, sitting down again somewhat nervously.
“On the west side of the man-house is a corral,” began Kaw. “There are sheep and goats in the corral to-night. The door of the man-house is toward the east. All Navaho Indians make their hogans with the door toward the rising sun. The horses are hobbled in a bunch on the south side of the hogan. The wind is from the south. We will go up to the man-house from the north, so that the dogs and horses will not smell you coming. There would certainly be trouble if they did,” he added.
“The moon will not be up to take its night walk for some time yet, but let us be on our way, as we can talk as we go. You are to go to the top of the little hill that you will find close to the man-house, and when you are there wait until you hear me call. Be careful to travel as noiselessly as ever you did in your life. Three of my crow friends will be with me in the sagebrush on the opposite side of the man-house. When I see you come to the top of the little hill my friends and I will make a loud and strange noise that will set all the dogs in our direction, and will, if all goes well, stampede the horses.”
“Why do you scare the horses?” asked Wongo.
“Well,” replied Kaw, “four of the horses belong to the squaw-man, and I just want to make him pay up a bit for the loss of my tail feather.”
“Ho, ho!” growled Wongo, “I understand that part of your strange plan at least. Go on.”
“As soon as you hear us,” continued Kaw, “and know that the dogs have run in our direction, you make a jump for the corral and grab a sheep. Don’t make a mistake and get a goat, for there are big ones in that flock that the Indians keep to protect the sheep from the coyotes, and if you should get one of them you might come to grief. Don’t kill the sheep, but make off with it as fast as you can travel, taking the shortest cut to the canyon. Hold the sheep around the neck so that it can’t make any noise.