1st. Havasu. “Hanegou?” (How do you do?)
2d. Havasu. “Hanegou.” (How do you do?)
1st. Hav. “Hanegou.” (Fine.)
2d. Hav. “How are crops?” (In Havasupai, of course).
1st. Hav. “Hanegou.” (All right.)
2d. Hav. “Hanegou!” (Fine!)
1st. Hav. “Hanegou.” (Well, good-by.)
2d. Hav. “Hanegou!” (Good-by, yourself!)
Then the two would pass on, each no doubt thinking of the other, “What a card that fellow is—always getting off some new wheeze!”
Before the chief’s Hanegous had died away, we were riding through an enchanting glade, half forest, half orchard. Golden, luscious apricots hung so low that we picked handfuls as we rode under the trees. Then the tangle of half-tropical growth grew thicker, till the whole red-walled valley was a mass of feathery verdure. It opened suddenly upon the river at a broad quiet ford, through which the horses splashed eagerly.