h some time before
going to bed," spoke up Tad Butler.

"You are mistaken, young man. I never make a glutton of myself," was
the grim retort.

"Now will you be good, Tad Butler?" chuckled Walter Perkins.

"Yes, I have nothing more to say," answered Tad, with a hearty laugh.

"We are getting down on the level now," the guide informed them.

Halting suddenly, Nance pointed to an overhanging ledge about half a
mile down the valley. The boys gazed, shading their eyes, wondering
what Nance saw.

"I see," said Tad.

"Then you see more than do the rest of us," answered Ned. "What is it?"

"It looks to me like a man."

"You have good eyes," nodded Nance.

"Is it a---a man?" questioned Chunky.

"Yes, it is an Indian lookout. He sees us and is trying to decide
whether or not our mission is a friendly one."

"Indians! Wow!" howled Chunky.

"We are in their home now, so behave yourself," warned Nance.

The Havasu River, which the riders followed, extended right on through
the village, below which were many scattering homes of the red men, but
the majority of them lived in the village itself. Almost the entire
length of the creek, both in the village and below, the river is
bordered with cottonwood, mesquite and other green trees, that furnish
shade for the quaint village nestling in the heart of the great
Canyon.

The boys followed the water course until finally they were approached
by half a dozen men---indians---who had come out to meet them.

Nance made a sign. The Indians halted, gazed, then started forward.
In the advance was the Kohot or native chief.

"Hello, Tom," greeted the guide.

"How!" said the chief.

"Tom is a funny name for an Indian," observed Chunky.

"His name is Chick-a-pan-a-gi, meaning 'the bat'," answered Jim
smilingly.

"He looks the part," muttered the fat boy.

"Tom, I've brought some friends of mine down to see you and your folks.
Have you anything to eat?"

"Plenty eat."

"Good."

"Plenty meala, meula. Kuku. No ski," answered the chief, meaning that
they were stocked with flour, sugar, but no bacon.

"I know that language," confided Stacy to Tad. "It's Hog Latin."

"Magi back-a-tai-a?" asked the chief.

"Higgety-piggety," muttered Chunky.

"He means, 'have we come from the place of the roaring sound?'"
translated Nance.

"You bet we have. Several of them," spoke up Ned.

"Doesn't he speak English?" asked Walter.

"Yes, he will soon. He likes a confid