Just then, at the door of one of the cabins, appeared a man who seemed to be a negro, and Roger could see several dark-skinned children peeping out from behind the man.
"What are colored folks doing on the Reservation, Adrian?"
"They're not colored; that's an Indian. He's Pete Smith. You see lots of the Indians are very dark, and they look a little like negroes at a distance."
"Well, he certainly don't look like the Indians you see in pictures," commented Roger.
The boys kept on. The little log cabins became more numerous now, and in the fields about them could be observed many Indian squaws at work, husking corn or gathering pumpkins and tomatoes. Once in a while a male Indian would be seen at work, probably because he had no squaw.
The boys now approached a cabin larger than any of the others near it. Adrian, coming opposite it, pointed to something fastened on the front wall.
"Do you know what that is?" he asked his cousin.
"What? Where?"
"Tacked up on the side of the cabin."
"Oh, that? Why, it looks like a piece of fur."