"You can have the job of teaching it," remarked Shirley Williams with a shiver. "I wouldn't want to get a nip from that long bill."
"If you want to know what that bill can do, just get the opinion of the rattlesnakes and lizards around here. Those birds are the worst enemies the snakes have. They certainly fade away when Mr. Road Runner is out for a walk. And by the way, Bet, this bird has a third name, it's 'Snake killer'."
But Matt was calling impatiently and the girls finally left their observations of desert life and took their seats in the car.
For a few miles Matt sent the machine ahead at a rate which troubled the girls but finally his impatience wore away and he slowed down to his ordinary careful driving.
Kit nodded approval and whispered to Bet: "Matt forgot he was driving a car; he thought he was riding a bronc."
"I am greatly relieved," said the professor quietly. "Speed is the curse of the age. We should take lessons from the Indians."
"That's all you know about Injins, Injins ain't so slow as you might think. I've seen 'em with plenty of ginger in 'em. They're only slow when there's work to be done." Matt Larkin had made the longest speech that Kit had ever heard from him at one time. He was not a talkative man, and rarely addressed anyone.
But that did not shake the professor in his conviction that Indians had led a quiet, placid existence and should be an example.
"Yes, we have much to learn from the red man," he continued just as if Matt had not spoken. And if he heard the contemptuous snort from the driver, he did not let on.
Mile after mile slid by quickly and soon the walls of the ranch house were visible.