A second time the Indian picked up Bettina. This time, instead of continuing along the trail in the direction he had been taking, he turned backward; otherwise he must have met Mr. Simpson.
But the young man knew of no one in that direction to whom he could safely deliver his charge, while a few miles to the north near the border of the Painted Desert was one of the wisest persons in his acquaintance. He had to leave the river trail and strike across the sand dunes, but the way was familiar. The distance meant but little for the Indian walked so swiftly.
Once he thought he felt the figure he carried stir a little, but looking closely could see no change.
Nevertheless it was about an hour before sunset when the Indian came to the friend he sought in the neighborhood of the desert. Nearer now he could see the ancient terraces of the five Hopi villages built on top the three mesas on the far side of the desert, and only to be entered by long climbing up the precipitous walls.
But the home he sought was not in one of the villages.
A Second Time the Indian Picked up Bettina
The Indian would not have confessed, but he was glad when he saw a small house, apparently built of clay dried by the sun, standing with one wall formed of a sandstone cliff.
Squatting in front of this house was an Indian woman who appeared very old. She had a big jar of brown pottery before her and with a yucca stem was making a geometric design upon it. This was Nampu, who had come from the village of Hano to settle at the edge of the desert, the better to pursue her work unobserved. She was one of the most famous pottery makers in all the region. But she was more than this. Nampu was a medicine woman. It is one of the peculiarities of the Hopi Indians that they have medicine women as well as medicine men.
The young Indian laid Bettina down at old Nampu’s feet.