"
"War, chief, war! Let the Navajo and his warriors rest and eat. Then we
shall speak."
A single command from the Navajo broke the waiting files of warriors.
Mustangs were turned into the fields, packs were unstrapped from the
burros, blankets spread under the cottonwoods. When the afternoon waned
and the shade from the western wall crept into the oasis, August Naab
came from his cabin clad in buckskins, with a large blue Colt swinging
handle outward from his left hip. He ordered his sons to replenish the
fire which had been built in the circle, and when the fierce-eyed Indians
gathered round the blaze he called to his women to bring meat and drink.
Hare's unnatural calmness had prevailed until he saw Naab stride out to
front the waiting Indians. Then a ripple of cold passed over him. He
leaned against a tree in the shadow and watched the gray-faced giant
stalking to and fro before his Indian friends. A long while he strode in
the circle of light to pause at length before the chieftains and to break
the impressive silence with his deep voice.
"Eschtah sees before him a friend stung to his heart.
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