After the manner of Indians, the animals were silent for some time, and did not immediately come to the reason for their visit, but finally Kaw spoke:
“Chu-ta-win, the eagle, is a friend of yours, isn’t he, Cho-gay?”
“Yes,” answered Cho-gay, “the eagle and I are good friends. He really owes his life to me.”
“As I thought,” said Kaw. “Would he do big things for you?”
“I think he would do anything I’d ask,” answered the Indian boy. “Why?”
“Umm-m,” said Kaw, without answering the question. “Do you know where he is?”
“I can whistle for him. We have a signal. If he doesn’t hear, there are those who carry the message to him.”
“Suppose you whistle now,” said Kaw. “No—on second thought don’t! Chu-ta-win and I are not exactly on friendly terms; he had better not see me, just yet. I have a scheme on foot and it would be best for no one to know just what it is but myself. I’ll tell you this much—I’m after water—much water—and I want to know if you two are willing to trust me and ask no questions.”
“Yes!” answered Cho-gay and Wongo at the same moment, and this ready answer plainly pleased the old crow very much. He gave a sigh of relief.
“Well, that’s settled. Now for business. You, Wongo, must go up to the top of Skull-top mountain and on the bald spot that you know of there, make the biggest, thickest bed of leaves you ever made in your life.”