e uproar; and the horse of Good Indian, hating always the smell and
the litter of an Indian camp, pitched furiously into the very wikiup of
old Hagar, who hated the rider of old. In the first breathing spell he
loosed the dog, which skulked, limping, into the first sheltered spot
he found, and laid him down to lick his outraged person and whimper to
himself at the memory of his plight. Grant pulled his horse to a restive
stand before a group of screeching squaws, and laughed outright at the
panic of them.

"Hello! Viney! I brought back your dog," he drawled. "He tried to bite
me--heap kay bueno* dog. Mebbyso you killum. Me no hurtum--all time
him Hartley, all time him try hard bite me. Sleeping Turtle tell me him
Viney dog. He likum Viney, me no kill Viney dog. You all time mebbyso
eat that dog--sabe? No keep--Kay bueno. All time try for bite. You
cookum, no can bite. Sabe?"

*AUTHOR'S NOTE.--The Indians of southern Idaho spoke a somewhat mixed
dialect. Bueno (wayno), their word for 'good,' undoubtedly being taken
from the Spanish language. I believe the word "kay" to be Indian.
It means "no", and thus the "Kay bueno" so often used by them means
literally "no good," and is a term of reproach On the other hand, "heap
bueno" is "very good," their enthusiasm being manifested merely by
drawing out the word "heap." In speaking English they appear to have no
other way of expressing, in a single phrase, their like or dislike of an
object or person.

Without waiting to see whether Viney approved of his method of
disciplining her dog, or intended to take his advice regarding its
disposal, he wheeled and started off in the direction of the trail which
led down the bluff to the Hart ranch. When he reached the first steep
descent, however, he remembered that Pete had spoken of some mail for
the Harts, and turned back to get it.

Once more in Hartley, he found that the belated train was making up
time, and would be there within an hour; and, since it carried mail from
the West, it seemed hardly worthwhile to ride away before its arrival.
Also, Pete intimated that there was a good chance of prevailing upon the
dining-car conductor to throw off a chunk of ice. Grant, therefore, led
his horse around into the shade, and made himself comfortable while he
waited.

CHAPTER III. OLD WIVES TALES

Down the winding trail of Snake River bluff straggled a blanketed half
dozen of old Wolfbelly's tribe, the braves stalking moodily in fr