They held their weapons above
their heads, and continuing to utter their friendly "How!" rapidly
advanced towards the boys.
"They aren't playing us a trick, are they, Frank?" asked Henry, in an
anxious tone.
"No," replied the elder boy, after snatching a glance to the rear.
"The lieutenant and soldiers are saddling. The Indians dare not harm
us on an open plain in sight of a mounted force."
The boys stopped, and the redmen came up and began shaking hands in a
most friendly manner, over and over again, repeating "How!" many
times. They were clad in loose and sleeveless cotton shirts, all
ragged and dirty, with no other clothing. The one who appeared to be
chief was distinguished by the possession of three shirts, worn one
above the other. Each man possessed several hares and field-rats, held
against his waist by tucking the heads under his belt.
The boy sergeants and their strange guests reached the camp-fire, and
the hand-shaking and exchange of amicable civilities went on for some
time. The chief approached me and, placing a finger on one of my
shoulder-straps, asked, in mongrel Spanish:
"Usted capitan?" (Are you the captain?)
I replied in the affirmative.
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