The two girls, therefore, could see every change on the dark face of the great chiefs Mexican squaw.
A good many changes came, for Dolores was very busily "remembering," and it was full five minutes before the thoughts brought to her by that picture of the "Way-side Shrine" began to fade away, so that she was again an Indian.
"Rita," whispered Ni-ha-be, "did it say anything to you?"
"Yes. A little. I saw something like it long ago. But I don't know what it means."
"Rita! Ni-ha-be!"
"What is it, Dolores?"
"Go. You will be in my way. I must cook supper for the chief. He is hungry. You must not go beyond the camp."
"What did the talking leaf say to you?" asked Ni-ha-be.
"Nothing. It is a great medicine leaf. I shall keep it. Perhaps it will say more to Rita by-and-by. Go."
The Apaches, like other Indians, know very little about cookery. They can roast meat and broil it, after a fashion, and they have several ways of cooking fish. They know how to boil when they are rich enough to have kettles, and they can make a miserable kind of corn-bread with Indian corn, dried or parched and pounded fine.