Yamanatz evaded the question but made the reply: "Colorow heap bad Indian, mebbe so make heap trouble. Utes 'fraid Colorow—big chief 'fraid Colorow. White man mebbe so kill Colorow, no tell what 'em happen. Old Utes not much care. Antelope, Bennett, Douglas, Washington. Mebbe so heap mad, kill all white men if white man Jack kill Colorow."
In this honest avowal Jack found little comfort, but Yamanatz's next words gave him a hope that all might be well.
"Utes got no lead, no powder, no deer meat. Mebbe so Colorow take many ponies, go Sulphur Springs, get 'em bullets, bacon, flour, then be good Injun till all gone."
In this logic of plenty to eat lay the safety of the white trappers for that winter, so Jack prayed fervently for the early departure of the Indians for Sulphur Springs to the end of his own personal safety. He knew now that certain sign language the Utes had so often indulged in represented Agent Meeker in his attempts to teach the Indians how to plow; that bits of tragic, practical joking were tests of his own bravery, and that the uneasy red devils but waited opportunity and excuse for an uprising, after they should obtain the necessary munitions of war, of which they had none.
Chiquita grew more and more interested in the ways of the pale face with each visit, and Jack found her waiting for his return oftener, even following him portions of the route in his attentions to the traps. Her desire for knowledge seemed to him incomprehensible and old Yamanatz was equally at a loss to understand why his daughter should prefer to hear about her white sisters' habits and what they did, rather than matters of more moment. When she finally told Yamanatz her desire to do wonderful things, such as building a big "medicine tepee" with lots of Indian maidens in "medicine clothes" to care for the sick, the aged and infirm, the old chief's face gladdened and his actions spoke louder than words, so that Jack knew it was safe to humor them both in their dream.
Within a few days Yamanatz sprung a joke on Jack that left Bennett's fun hanging high and dry on the trees. Chiquita had arrayed herself in more gorgeous raiment than had been recorded of a society debutante in Indian stories—beaded cape, waist, shirt, leggings, and moccasins; medals of gold, silver and pewter; ornaments of brass, tin and iron; necklaces of elk teeth and grizzly claws; hair decorations of lion skin, beaver and otter fur, and in her hand a rawhide shield just dazzling with highly polished brass knobs. Her bright eyes fairly danced with joy as she posed before Jack in her "Sunday best." Yamanatz watched her with that same benevolent kindness which characterized him above other Utes. After the usual salutations, the old chief took a leather bag from the saddle and opened it, turning its contents upon Jack's best dish towel, which happened to be near. To say that Jack's heart jumped is drawing it very mild. The contents of the bag were gold nuggets from the size of a mustard seed to a navy bean and there was at least a quart.
Yamanatz saw the sparkle in Jack's eyes and laconically remarked, "Sabe?"
"Heap big gold mine somewhere?" asked Jack,
To which question Yamanatz made two replies—"Me dunno; mebbe so."
Jack waited for him to continue, wondering what reason the two Utes had for appearing as they did, one in royal raiment, the other with a good sized ransom, for Jack estimated that there was twenty pounds of pure gold worth twenty dollars an ounce, or in all nearly five thousand dollars.