Waterless Mountain by Laura Adams Armer

Author:Laura Adams Armer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dover Publications
Published: 1931-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

Younger Brother wondered what had frightened them.

So the thieves rode away frightened out of their wits.

Younger Brother walked boldly to the edge of the bank and looked over. He could see the beautiful jar, so big it would take both of his arms to reach around it.

He would like to take it to the white boy but, when he ran down the bank and saw the bones, he wouldn’t touch the jar. He knew it belonged to the ancient people. Uncle had always told him to leave such things alone.

So he went up the bank and mounted his pony, happy to have him again. He rode bareback to camp, where he found the white boy rather anxious.

Younger Brother was excited and tried to tell his story with gestures. He could not make himself understood.

By this time the water had gone down in the wash, so that it was safe for the roadster to cross. Younger Brother rode his pony in to test the bottom. It was rocky, so there was no fear of quicksand.

Once more the boys were westward bound. They stopped at the next trading post for gasoline. The trader was good-natured and allowed them to camp near the store and put the pony in the corral with a good supper of hay.

The boys spent the evening with the trader in his living room. It was a splendid big stone-walled room with Navaho blankets hanging on the walls and piled half way to the ceiling in one end of the room. The floor was carpeted with the blankets. A big stone fireplace suggested cosy evenings in the winter time.

The white boy asked the trader to find out what had happened to his Navaho friend that morning, and Younger Brother told about the horse thieves.

“They tried to steal my pony,” he said.

“What did they look like, my boy ?”

“Like the spittle of snakes, like dried coyotes, like chindi.”

“Hard to identify,” said the trader. “Try again.”

“One was squint-eyed, with a mouth that could kill.”

“Sounds like Cut Finger. He’s a bad egg,” said the trader, turning to the white boy. “The government’s looking for him. How did you get the pony back, boy ?”

“He came when I called him.”

“Well, well, as easy as that !” laughed the trader. “What became of the thieves ?”

“They rode to the north when my pony found the pot and the bones.”

“Found what pot, what bones ?”

“The big red pot with the black snake on the outside.”

The trader was excited by this time. “How big was the pot ?”

“So big my arms could not reach around it.”

“Will you show me the place tomorrow ?”

“No, I must travel to the west. It is not good to disturb the ancient people.”

Nothing could induce Younger Brother to guide the trader to the place of the pot.

The white boy was excited about the pot because his father was an archaeologist looking for old things. He decided to investigate for himself. He wanted to find the pot.

So the next morning he and Younger Brother parted company.

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