e pack, then the burden
basket containing her cooking utensils, next the water bottle, and from
across the saddle seat the large rawhide carryall that contains the family
supplies and extra clothing. A smaller rawhide bag holds those little
essentials necessary to the comfort of the family. The unloading finished,
the woman fills the water bottle at the stream and gathers fuel for
preparing the simple meal, which is soon over. If anything is more simple
than the cooking it is the preparation of the bed. A small circular spot
is cleared and an armful of grass, if any exists, is spread over it; the
blankets are laid on the grass, and the bed is made. The blankets may not
be clean, and certainly the pallet is not downy, but this matters little
to a people inured to hardship; they are happy.

With a laugh the children tumble upon the blankets. Being dressed in a
single garment a little girl innocently exposes more of her body than
meets with her modest mother's approval. The scolding is full and
positive. Little Miss Apache, sitting in the middle of the blanket with
her knees drawn to her chin and with scant skirt now tucked carefully
about her feet, looks up with roguish smile, then down at her wiggling
toes in coquettish defiance.

From far down the stream resound the splash of water and the merry
laughter of matrons and maidens bathing in the clear pools, and from above
the more boisterous shouts of men and boys. Surely he who says the
American Indian is morose, stolid, and devoid of humor never knew him in
the intimacy of his own home.

With the coming of light the women are at work building the campfires, and
the rising sun finds them at their morning meal. The breaking of camp is a
brief task. To-day they are to cross the divide, ford Black river, and
continue on to the mountains where the mescal grows abundantly. Travel in
the cool morning hours is a delight, and seven o'clock finds the party
well on its way. The long cavalcade winds slowly over the mountain trail.
Just ahead is a mother with two children, a little girl astride behind her
and a two-year-old boy standing in her lap. The mourning dove sounds its
melancholy note from the forest, and the children take up the call. The
little boy is not very proficient in the imitation, and sister corrects
him time after time. Truly, in Indian-land, nature study begins early in
life.

There is noticeable change in the vegetation. The giant yuccas appear
almost as a fo