"You would get hide-bound if I would let you," I said. "I wonder if those Indians have gone, because we can't start until they are out of sight."
"We will go over and look," said Jim, "while Tom gets the breakfast."
Tom growled some more, but he was in a minority. So Jim and I crossed the mesa, and taking to cover, we looked out over the plain. They were just breaking camp and we could hear their voices borne on the wind.
It was an interesting and animated sight as they caught their ponies and took short dashes about the plains, going through different tricks with remarkable celerity.
"They will be well started before we are ready," said Jim as we made our way back to the camp in the village.
"I thought this wind would go down with sunrise, but it whoops it up just the same," I said.
"You can't judge this country by any other," said Jim. "This is certainly a great wind, it just takes you by the seat of your pants and makes you walk Spanish."
"I'm glad you got back this morning," said Tom, "because there has been an awful row in the roof house above here. I think it was the old lady."
"We'll go up and see," said Jim.
So the committee of investigation proceeded up the ladder to find out the source of the trouble. Jim was the first to enter the door. He stopped and looked toward the corner, shaking his head. We could just see a huddled figure.