Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Part 9

"He must be punished for his sin against the tribe," went on Eagle Feather. "You have seen him here at the cliff?"

"We don't know what you're talking about," Brad declared uneasily. "We came upon this carved face only a few days ago. We don't know anything about it, and that's the truth."

"What's this tribesman done that you're so anxious to find him?" Dan asked curiously.

The two Indians, however, did not reply to the question.

Apparently satisfied that the Cubs could provide them with no information, they spoke together for a moment in their own tongue.

Then, with polite farewells, they vanished back into the trees.

For a long while after the Indians had gone, the Cubs remained speechless.

"Did it happen? Or did we dream it?" Mack muttered.

"We didn't dream it," replied Brad soberly. "I almost wish we had."

"Those guys are tough," said Dan. "Did you notice the expression of their faces? Whoever that Indian is that they're after, I feel sorry for him."

"He must have violated some law of the tribe," Chips speculated. "Gosh!

This is going to be exciting!"

"It may be a lot more than that," declared Brad. The Cubs saw that he was deeply worried. "I don't like it a bit-not a bit. Grab your clay fast, and let's get out of here. I want to talk to Mr. Hatfield."

CHAPTER 6 ANOTHER LOSS

The meeting with the two Indians had excited all the Cubs and as they hiked back to the day camp, they could discuss no other subject.

"Did you notice Eagle Feather's belt?" Dan asked the others. "It had big discs of silver strung together on leather."

"Seeing it gave me an idea," declared Brad enthusiastically. "We'll want to make some fancy Indian costumes for our pow-wow. We can rig up calico shirts and slit denim trousers up the side. But we'll need belts to set off the outfits."

"Maybe you can wheedle one from the Indians," Red twitted.

"I've got a better idea. We'll make em!"

"Know anyone that owns a silver mine?" Midge scoffed.

"No, but the tops of peanut b.u.t.ter cans will do just as well. We can use the metal discs, punch them with holes and string them on leather straps."

"Say, that's a good idea!" Dan approved instantly. "Wouldn't cost us a cent either."

"I know what would snap up our pow-wow more than anything else," declared Fred. "A couple of real Indians!"

"White Nose and Eagle Feather, for instance?" chuckled Chips, stepping over a fallen tree on the trail.

"Sure. Why not?"

"We'll appoint you a committee of one to arrange it."

"Mr. Hatfield might do it," interposed Brad, taking Chips' suggestion half seriously. "Those Indians are well educated and they might be willing to cooperate with the Cub organization. The only trouble is, we don't know where they're staying in Webster City."

"Or what brought them here," added Dan soberly. "I didn't like all that talk about searching for one of their brothers. They were too grim. To me, it had an ugly sound."

"They seemed to think that the person they're after carved the face on the cliff," remarked Mack. "That deepens the mystery."

"I wish Professor Sarazen of the Webster City College art staff could see that carving," Brad said thoughtfully. "If I get a chance, I think I'll drop around at his place and tell him about it."

The Den Chief had been swinging along through the forest at a smooth but fast pace. Now, coming to a little brook, he paused abruptly.

"Whad'you see?" demanded Dan, who was directly behind.

Without answering immediately, the older boy bent down to examine a crude snare which had been built across a game run near the stream bank.

"Someone's been hunting for rabbits here!" he exclaimed.

"And hunting is illegal in the metropolitan park preserve!"

"Sure, it is. Notice anything unusual about this snare!"

Dan nodded. "I saw some pictures like it in those Indian books I read."

"It's an Indian snare all right."

"Maybe White Nose and Eagle Feather set it up here," Fred speculated.

"Maybe," agreed Brad, his voice trailing off.

He pocketed the snare, and the Cubs went on to the day camp.

So much time had been lost that the boys knew they would have to work fast to complete their hogan before dark. During their absence, Mr.

Hatfield and Mr. Holloway had started the frame of the hut. Bent boughs had been tied firmly together with leather and cords.

"The Navajos have eight different types of houses," the Cub leader informed the boys as they worked. "The dwelling is erected in a single day, for all the neighbors come in to help. On the reservations, they're usually made of pinon logs, cedar bark, an earth roof, and the c.h.i.n.ks filled with mud."

For an hour the Cubs labored, taking satisfaction in seeing the hogan grow slowly but surely.

"There!" Brad declared in satisfaction, as the square doorway was nailed on, "it's finished! I call it a dandy job too!"

"You do?" demanded a voice from behind him.

Brad whirled to see Ross Langdon standing there, a grin on his face.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo, Ross," Brad greeted him, trying to make his voice cordial.

"Didn't hear you come up."