eps on the cars Denver City to Washington City."

Jack happened to have in his kit a railroad map of the United States and
with this spread before them on a blanket, he would point out Rock Creek
and then explain the distances from one place to another, telling of the
great buildings, the industries, the immense amount of fuel used in the
big shops and the number of men employed in making guns, wagons,
saddles, harness, boots, blankets and the like, articles that appeared
in the camp and which were in everyday use at the White River Agency.
This was a very arduous but pleasing task, in that it required all of
Jack's ingenuity to portray the information intelligently, and
frequently Chiquita would be the instructor because of her better
ability, as a child of the forest, to convey thought by means of signs
and comparative objects. He taught her the alphabet, also words of one
and two syllables, and she showed how wonderful is the Indian mind in
its retention of the slightest impression when the will power to receive
it is acquiescent.

"Tell Chiquita, does the white man's squaw carry the wood for the fire
so the warrior can cook his venison?"

"No," said Jack, laughing, "the warrior of the white man is the soldier
at the fort."

Chiquita interrupted quickly, a deep scowl causing her inky black
eyebrows to meet over her flashing eyes, and with her head thrown back,
displaying the full, rounded throat, her beautiful arm bared save for
the wide beaded bracelets and amulets, she pointed to the sky, almost
hissing through her marvelously white teeth, "Chiquita comprehends, the
warrior of the white man is the hired pale face, sent by the Great White
Chief at Washington City to slay my people; even now mebbe so the hired
man rides to take Chiquita back to the White River; but her people are
brave. Her people were as the stars above, as the drops that make the
big river, but they are gone to the Great Spirit, where their ponies
await their coming in the Happy Hunting Ground that the pale face knows
not of, and to where the spirit of Chiquita will some day fly. Let the
white man Jack beware. It is well for him that Yamanatz is his friend,
and Chiquita will see that no harm comes to the friend of Yamanatz.
Mebbe so Colorow is no friend of the white man Jack, but Colorow has no
bullets. The gun of Colorow is empty, but the knife in the belt of
Colorow is pointed. It is sharp and the arm of Colorow is as the young
tree, and his