ou
prisoner?"

"No, I haven't. I was fifteen then, and if there's one thing I've been
afraid of it was that I would forget. I've repeated things over and
over and over, for fear they'd get away from me."

"That's all right. I've had an eye on you about that. But haven't you
learned something?"

"You've taught me all about rocks and stones and ores and mining--"

"Yes, and you can ride like a Lipan, and shoot and hunt, and there
isn't a young brave in the band that can throw you in a fair wrestle."

"That's all Indian--"

"Is it? Well, whether it is or not, you'll need it all before long.
All you know."

"To fight Apaches?"

"Better'n that, Steve. It's been of no use for you to try to get away
toward Texas. They watch you too closely, and besides, the Comanches
are most of the time between us and the settlements. They won't watch
you at all out here. That's why I insisted on bringing you along."

"Do you mean I'll have a chance to get away?"

"I don't mean you shall go back of the mountains again, Steve. You
must wait patiently, but the time'll come. I tell you what, my boy,
when you find yourself crossing the Arizona deserts and mountains all
alone, you'll be right glad you can ride, and shoot, and hunt, and find
your own way. It's all Indian knowledge, but it's wonderfully useful
when you have to take care of yourself in an Indian country."

The dark cloud was very heavy on Murray's face yet, but an eager light
was shining upon that of his young friend--the light of hope.

CHAPTER III

"Talking leaves?" said Ni-ha-be, as she turned over another page of the
pamphlet in her lap and stared at the illustrations. "Can you hear
what they say?"

"With my eyes."

"Then they are better than mine. I am an Apache! You was born white!"

There was a little bit of a flash in the black eyes of the Indian
maiden. She had not the least idea but that it was the finest thing in
all the world to be the daughter of Many Bears, the great Apache
warrior, and it did not please her to find a mere white girl, only
Indian by adoption, able to see or hear more than she could.

Rita did not reply for a moment, and a strange sort of paleness crept
across her face, until Ni-ha-be exclaimed,

"It hurts you, Rita! It is bad medicine. Throw it away."

"No, it does not hurt--"

"It makes you sick?"

"No, not sick--it says too much. It will take many days to hear it
all."

"Does it speak Apache?"