to do so because it did not
please them and I had grown tired of being all alone in the world.

"You might let a fellow sleep a little longer," growled Tom.

"You would get hide-bound if I would let you," I said. "I wonder if
those Indians have gone, because we can't start until they are out of
sight."

"We will go over and look," said Jim, "while Tom gets the breakfast."

Tom growled some more, but he was in a minority. So Jim and I crossed
the mesa, and taking to cover, we looked out over the plain. They were
just breaking camp and we could hear their voices borne on the wind.

It was an interesting and animated sight as they caught their ponies
and took short dashes about the plains, going through different tricks
with remarkable celerity.

"They will be well started before we are ready," said Jim as we made our
way back to the camp in the village.

"I thought this wind would go down with sunrise, but it whoops it up
just the same," I said.

"You can't judge this country by any other," said Jim. "This is
certainly a great wind, it just takes you by the seat of your pants and
makes you walk Spanish."

"I'm glad you got back this morning," said Tom, "because there has been
an awful row in the roof house above here. I think it was the old lady."

"We'll go up and see," said Jim.

So the committee of investigation proceeded up the ladder to find out
the source of the trouble. Jim was the first to enter the door. He
stopped and looked toward the corner, shaking his head. We could just
see a huddled figure.

"She's dead, stone dead," said Jim.

It was true. On a closer view we saw that she sat there, staring with
her sightless eyes, seeming to threaten even in death. I could not help
but feel that she might spring up at any moment.

"Do you think that we ought to bury her?" asked Tom.

"No, no," Jim shook his head. "The Indians don't bury their dead, and in
this dry air she will be kept like a mummy. Come on, it's time we were
moving."

We took one more observation and found that the Indians were well on
their way to the southeast and could not see us as we came down the
trail.

"I'm glad this wind doesn't come from the other way," I said. "It would
blow us off."

"You are a bright one," remarked Tom. "If the wind came from the other
side, wouldn't the mesa protect us? It could not blow through it, that's
sure."

"You just want to argue," I said. "I'm not going to pay any attention to
you."

"W