The woman's sudden, low-voiced warning startled Steve. Her Indian eyes had been quicker than his. There was a movement under the fur robes of one of the curious heaps in the distance, to the left, and she pointed at it.
Steve followed the direction indicated. Sure enough there was movement. One of the men had turned over on his back.
"Him wake—bimeby," whispered the squaw. "Come!"
She moved towards the doorway, and Steve followed closely. In a moment they had passed the curtained barriers out into the fresh night air.
Steve paused.
"Would that be the headman?" he demanded.
An-ina shook her head.
"Him headman by door. Him sleep where we stand. Him sleep by door. Him brave. Keep devil-man away. So."
"I see," Steve moved on down the path. "Well, we'll get right back. I'm going to reckon on you, An-ina. Each day you go. When the headman wakes you speak with him. You tell him white man officer of the Great White Chief come. He looks for dead white men. You must tell him to keep awake while you bring white man officer. See?"
"Sure. An-ina know. An-ina mak him fix all so."