"We're not scared. We've found something. Pale-face sign."
"Apache warriors do not ask squaws if there are pale-faces near them. The chiefs know all. Their camp was by the spring."
"Was it?" exclaimed Ni-ha-be. "We have found some of their talking leaves. Rita must show them to father."
"Show them to me."
"No. You are an Apache. You can not hear what they say. Rita can. She is white."
"Ugh! Show leaves now."
Ni-ha-be was a squaw, but she was also something of a spoiled child, and was less afraid of her brother than he may have imagined. Besides, the well-known rule of the camp, or of any Indian camp, was in her favor. All "signs" were to be reported to the chief by the finder, and Ni-ha-be would make her report to her father like a warrior.
Rita was wise enough to say nothing, and Red Wolf was compelled to soften his tone a little. He even led the way to the spot near the spring where the squaws of Many Bears were already putting up his "lodge."
There was plenty of grass and water in that valley, and it had been decided to rest the horses there for three days before pushing on deeper into the Apache country.
The proud old chief was not lowering his dignity to any such work as lodge pitching. He would have slept on the bare ground without a blanket before he would have touched one pole with a finger. That was "work for squaws," and all that could be expected of him was that he should stand near and say "Ugh!" pleasantly when things were going to please him, and to say it in a different tone if they were not.