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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Better get up, Frank," the other said. "I've started the fire, and after we've had breakfast we'll be on our way. It was just as you said, though; he had the good sense to keep clear of the heels of the horses." "Who are you talking about, the Moqui?" asked Frank, sitting up suddenly, as he caught a peculiar strain in the other's voice.
She hadn't been anywhere, and she hadn't even screamed, except in imagination. She was on her blanket, alongside of her niece, in the house of the Moqui chief, and as safe as need be. But the visionary terror had scarcely gone when a real one came.
You began to hint about your desire to possess stock in certain mines, and especially in one, the ownership of which I had carried in my hand for some years. Besides, I had been warned of your real intentions, and was on my guard." "What became of that old Moqui Indian?" went on Eugene. "He climbed up, but he did not come down. We guarded that stairway closely every minute of the time.
"We watched the stone stairway every minute of the time, and he didn't go down that way." "Oh! well, in my prowling around here, month after month," explained the hermit, "I managed to find a way the old cliff dwellers had for reaching the summit of the rocks, in case of necessity. The Moqui possessed the nerve required to crawl along the face of the cliff on a narrow ledge, and make the exit.
"He can speak United States all right; we've found that out already; and so you see, there's no reason under the sun why he shouldn't want to tell us." He turned to the Moqui.
"Besides, they are made by moccasins instead of shoes or boots with heels. And if I needed any further proof to tell me our friend Havasupai made these tracks, and not a strange Moqui, I have it in the queer patch across the toe of his right moccasin, which I noticed when he was with us before." "That's just fine!"
The entire population of the seven Moqui towns numbers about two thousand souls. In 1583 Espejo estimated that the Moquis numbered fifty thousand, which, doubtless, was an over estimate, as he has been accused of exaggeration.
"We have hunted high and low through this series of ratholes, and without any success," observed Eugene, beginning to bite off his words, as though unable to much longer keep up the pretense of being calm. "What have you done with that old Moqui who came up here ahead of us?"
I appreciate the high merit of Lieutenant Thurstane, and I grieve sincerely at his misfortune. What can I do? I will do the best I can for all. Trusting to your good sense, I will do whatever you say. But if you want my advice, here it is. We ought for our own sakes to leave here to-morrow; but for his sake we will wait a day. In that time he may rejoin us, or he may regain the Moqui trail.
MacNeil studied together in Rome for four years and on their return to America established themselves in New York, where the MacNeil studio is. He is the teacher of modeling of the National School of Design, New York. He has made a specialty of Indian subjects, "The Sun Vow," "The Coming of the White Man," and the "Moqui Runner" being some of his best pieces.
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