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She was walking down Piute Street on her way to call on Alice Blanchard, when her attention was attracted to a small, shut-up house, on which was a sign: "No. 13. To Let, Furnished." The sign was not printed, but written on a half-sheet of foolscap, which was what led Clover to notice it. She studied the house a while, then opened the gate, and went in. Two or three steps led to a little piazza.
A red haze of fine sand eddied about the toiling sheep and shepherds. Piute trudged ahead leading the king-ram, old Socker, the leader of the flock; Mescal and Hare rode at the right, turning their faces from the sand-filled puffs of wind; August and Dave drove behind; Wolf, as always, took care of the stragglers.
Only here again that old familiar magic of unfamiliar names threw its glamour over the terse sentences. "Over beyond the Piute Monument," the old prospector explained, "down through the Inyo Range, a leetle north of Death Valley " "Back in seventy-eight when I was up in Bay Horse Cañon over by Lost River " "Was you ever over in th' Panamit Mountains? North of th' Telescope Range?
He knew exactly where he wanted to go, and he moved toward his destination in the line of greatest economy. Morning found him descending from a mountain pass to the Ruidosa. "Breakfast soon, you wall-faced old Piute," Jim told his mount. "You're sure a weary caballo, but we got to keep hitting the trail till we cross that hogback." A thin film of smoke rose from a little valley to the left.
"I wish I had brought Zeke and George. It'll be a hard drive, though we've got Jack and Mescal to help." Hot as it was August Naab lost no time in the start. Piute led the train on foot, and the flock, used to following him, got under way readily. Dave and Mescal rode along the sides, and August with Jack came behind, with the pack-burros bringing up the rear.
Lieutenant Strothers of the United States Army and I talked with Piute Indians in Modoc County, after the "ghost dance" scare had subsided, who were firm in the belief that a chief of the Piutes died and then came back. They assured us that they had talked with a man who had seen him, and that there could be no mistake. But they said: "Maybe so; he did not know.
"Everybody who has lived on either slope of the Sierras must have heard about Johnson. Well, Johnson Sides is a whole lot of a man, even if he is only a Piute Indian. It ain't quite fair, though, to speak of him as only an Indian, for he has developed into an individual and wears store clothes. "The first time I ever saw Johnson was away back, years ago, when I first went to Virginia City.
Just as he had never talked about men to the sealed wives in the hidden valley, so he could not talk of women to Joe Lake. Nas Ta Bega did not return that day, but, next morning a messenger came calling Lake to the Piute camp.
In the course of a mile, without keeping the sheep near at hand, they saw upward of twenty coyotes, five of which Jack killed in as many shots. "You've got the hang of it," said Naab, rubbing his hands. "You'll kill the varmints. Piute will skin and salt the pelts. Now I'm going up on the high range to look for bear sign. Go ahead, on your own hook."
"Yes," replied his father, harshly. A great calm settled over Hare; his blood ceased to race, his mind to riot; in August Naab's momentous word he knew the old man had found himself. At last he had learned the lesson of the desert to strike first and hard. "Zeke, hitch up a team," said August Naab. "No wait a moment. Here comes Piute. Let's hear what he has to say."
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