His long
hair was flying in the wind. Both he and his horse were silhouetted
sharply against the brilliant western sky.
"Make a picture of it, Diana!" cried Enoch.
Diana shook her head. "I could make nothing of it!"
Na-che gave a long, shrill call, which the Indian returned, then pulled
up his horse to wait for them. When Enoch and Diana reached the rim,
the others already had overtaken him.
"It's Wee-tah!" exclaimed Diana, then as she shook hands, she added:
"Where are you going so fast, Wee-tah?"
The Indian, a handsome young buck, his hair bound with a knotted
handkerchief, glanced at Enoch and answered Diana in Navajo.
Diana nodded, then said: "Judge, this is Wee-tah, a friend of mine."
Enoch and the Indian shook hands gravely, and Diana said, "Can't you
take supper with us, Wee-tah?"
"You stay, Wee-tah," Na-che put in abruptly. "Jonas and I want you to
help us with a charm."
"Na-che says you know a heap about charms, Mr. Wee-tah!" exclaimed
Jonas.
Wee-tah grinned affably. "I stay," he said. "Only the whites have to
hurry. Good water hole right there." He jerked his thumb over his
shoulder, then turned his pony and led the way a few hundred yards to a
low outcropping of stones, the hollowed top of which held a few
precious gallons of rain water.
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