t was the third slice which found its way
into the lodge after all.

The strange part of it was that not even Ni-ha-be dreamed of
complaining. It was according to custom.

There was plenty of time to eat supper after it came, for Dolores was
compelled to look out for her own. She would not have allowed any
other squaw to cook for her any more than she herself would have
condescended to fry a cake for any one below the rank of her own
husband and his family. Mere common braves and their squaws could take
care of themselves, and it was of small consequence to Dolores whether
they had anything to eat or not. There is more "aristocracy" among the
wild red men than anywhere else, and they have plenty of white
imitators who should know better.

CHAPTER IX

There had been a very good reason why neither Steve Harrison nor Murray
came back with the Lipan braves who were sent to bring home the game.
They had been preparing to do so when they were summoned into the
presence of To-la-go-to-de.

"No Tongue is a great hunter," said the dark-browed leader, as they
came forward. "Cougar, big-horn, deer, all good. Apache heap better."

"That's what I came for."

"Go find them. Eat a heap. Take Yellow Head. Go all night."

"Any warriors go with me?"

"No. Maybe Apache dog see you. See pale-faces and not think of
Lipans. Dress Yellow Head. Wash off paint."

It was a genuine stroke of Indian war cunning. The two pale-faces were
to act as scouts in the advance. If the Apaches should happen to see
them their presence would not suggest the dangerous nearness of a band
of hostile Indians.

It may be the wise old chief added, to himself, that if both of them
were killed on their perilous errand, the loss to his tribe would be of
less consequence than that of two full-blooded Lipans. His pride of
race would prevent his admitting that he had no brave in his band who
was as well fitted to follow and find Apaches as was No Tongue.

"Now, Steve, we must eat all we know how, and then I'll fix you."

It had not harmed the young hunter in the opinion of his red friends
that he had been unable to conceal his delight at the prospect before
him.

"Young brave," they said, with approving nods. "Glad all over. Make
good warrior some day."

He was indeed "glad all over," but Murray cautioned him by a look, and
he said nothing.

He was almost too glad to eat, but his appetite came back to him while
he and Murray w