A STORY OF NORTHERN ARIZONA.
BY KIRK MUNROE,
Author of "Rick Dale," "The Fur-Seal's Tooth," "Snow-Shoes and Sledges," "The Mate Series," etc.
CHAPTER VII.
THE LAD WHO HAD NEVER SEEN A GIRL.
hile poor Todd was striving to scale the rocky ladder from which he had just fallen, another lad of about his own age had bounded up the steep pathway behind him with the speed and ease of a mountain-goat. He was tall and slender, straight as the lance shaft that he bore in one hand, and finely proportioned. The bronze of his skin and his long hair, black and glossy as the wing of a crow, showed him to be an Indian, though his clear-cut features expressed a lively intelligence, and exhibited none of the hopeless apathy so common to the moderns of his race. His body was naked to the waist, below which it was covered by a pair of fringed buckskin breeches, while his feet were encased in unornamented but serviceable moccasins having soles of goat-skin.
This new-comer was so startled by the unexpected sight of a stranger that he uttered the shout of amazement which had caused Todd to lose his hold. Bitterly regretting his impulsive outcry, and distressed at its result, the young Indian knelt beside the unconscious stranger, and gently lifting his head from the rocks against which it had struck, gazed eagerly into the face of the first white boy he had ever seen.
While he was thus occupied a second figure appeared toiling up the rugged path. It was that of a white man, venerable in aspect, but still sturdy of limb, and clad from head to foot in buckskin. He was a large man, and his massive head was covered with silvery hair, still thick and clustering in curls about his temples. He wore a flowing white beard, and his kindly face was as serenely placid as though the cares of life had touched him but slightly. At the present moment it was flushed from the exertion of climbing, and filled with an anxious curiosity at the astounding sight of a stranger in that place, and one who was at the same time in so sad a plight.
A few words from the Indian lad told all that he knew of what had just happened, and while he spoke the old man examined a slight wound in Todd's head, from which a stream of blood was trickling.