"My Lordy!" exclaimed Jonas, as he and Enoch were hobbling their
horses, "if I don't have some charms and hoo-doos to put over on those
Baptist folks back home! Why, these Indians have got even a Georgia
nigger beat for knowing the spirits."
"Jonas, you're an old fool, but I love you!" said Enoch.
Jonas chuckled, and hurried off to help Na-che with the supper. The
stunted cat's claw and mesquite which grew here plentifully made
possible a glorious fire that was most welcome, for the evening was
cold. Enoch undertook to keep the big blaze going while Wee-tah
prepared a small fire at a little distance for cooking purposes. After
supper the two Indians and Jonas gathered round this while Enoch and
Diana remained at what Jonas designated as the front room stove.
"What solitary trip was Wee-tah undertaking?" asked Enoch. "Or mustn't
I inquire?"
"On one of the buttes in the canyon country," replied Diana, "Wee-tah's
grandfather, a great chief, was killed, years ago. Wee-tah is going up
to that butte to pray for his little son who has never been born."
"Ah!" said Enoch, and fell silent. Diana, in her favorite attitude,
hands clasping her knees, watched the fire. At last Enoch roused
himself.
"Shall you come to Washington this winter, Diana?"
"I ought to, but I may not.
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