It was two days later when Henry realized that something strange was going on at the dig. “I just don’t get it.” He nudged the soft earth with the toe of his shoe. “I worked all yesterday afternoon on this square, and now it’s filled in with dirt.”
“Maybe you were working on the square next to it,” Jessie offered. “It’s easy to get confused.”
“No, I know it was this one,” Henry insisted. “I had gotten through all the topsoil, and I was just starting to find some bits of pottery. Now I’ve got to start all over!”
Joe squatted back on his heels. “Somebody filled in my square, too,” he said quietly. “And take a look at these tracks.” He pointed to a trail of tiny round holes that led around the edge of his dig.
“What kind of tracks? Deer tracks?” Benny jumped up. He thought it would be a lot of fun to be able to identify animal tracks, like Joe and Amy could.
Joe laughed. “I’m afraid not, Benny. These are human tracks.”
“They don’t look like footprints,” Violet said. “Some of them are too little and round.”
“That’s because they’re made from a woman’s high-heeled shoes,” Amy explained.
“Ms. Neville!” Henry exclaimed. “Remember the day she came to the dig in those high heels and nearly tripped?”
Joe nodded. “She must have come back to take another look around.”
“But why would she want to wander around the dig at night? And why would she fill in the holes we made?” Jessie wondered.
Henry shook his head. “I have no idea. But I think we’d better get back to work.”
They were busy with their trowels when something shiny in the dirt caught Benny’s eye. Maybe it was a glass bead or part of a hunting knife! “Oh shucks,” he said, when he bent down for a closer look. “It’s just an old key ring. And there aren’t even any keys on it.”
“Let’s have a look.” Henry examined the small red square dangling from a tarnished chain. The letter M was emblazoned on it. “Here, Benny,” he said, returning it. “Keep it safe. Maybe we’ll find the owner.”
“And maybe we’ll find out who’s been sneaking around the dig,” Jessie added.
The sun was setting when the children left the dig and made their way through the forest. A sudden cracking sound from the forest made them jump, and Violet spun around in surprise.
“Sorry to frighten you,” Ted Clark said, emerging from behind a tree. He rubbed his ankle and winced. “I’m afraid I tripped over a fallen branch.”
“What were you doing in the middle of the forest?” Benny asked curiously.
“Just taking a look around.” He paused, glancing at Henry’s knapsack. “Are you kids on a hike or something?”
“No, we’ve just been — ” Violet stopped suddenly. Something in Jessie’s expression made her cautious. “Playing,” she added firmly.
“There’s not much place to play around here,” Ted said, glancing at the dense forest. He gestured in the direction of the dig. “What’s over that way? Anything worth looking at?”
“Just a lot of poison ivy,” Joe spoke up. “But if you head over that way” — he pointed away from the dig — “there are some pretty nice trails.”
After Ted left, Benny edged closer to Violet. “At least we know that’s not his key ring. I wish we could find out who ‘M’ is!”
Violet took his hand. “Me, too.”
After dinner that night, Amy and Jessie went upstairs to begin working on their outfits for the Pow-Wow dance.
“We need to make a buckskin dress for you,” Amy said. “My mom said you could use this.” She opened a cardboard box and laid two sheets of tan buckskin across her bed.
“It’s beautiful material,” Jessie said. “But how can we make a dress out of it?”
Amy pulled a simple Navajo dress out of her closet. “It’s really easy to do. You use one sheet for the front, and one for the back, and then you attach them at the shoulders.”
“What do we do about the sides?” Jessie asked.
“That part’s easy. We just lace up the sides.” She smiled at Jessie’s puzzled look. “Don’t worry. If we’re the same size, we can use my dress as a pattern.”
Amy held her dress up to Jessie and nodded. “Just what I thought. This will fit you perfectly.” She handed Jessie a pair of scissors and both girls sat on the bed. Amy laid her dress over the buckskin and trimmed the material to match it. “Now all we have to do is make a lot of little cuts down each side.”
“Fringe!” Jessie said, pleased.
“Exactly,” Amy answered.
At last they were finished. Amy stood up. “Time to try it on,” she said. A buckskin thong on each shoulder held the dress together. Amy worked quickly, lacing up the sides while Jessie stood still.
“Now all we need is a cape, and that’s really easy.” She reached into the box and pulled out a piece of rectangular buckskin with a hole in the center. “Just slip this over your head.”
“It feels so soft,” Jessie said, running her hand over the smooth skin.
“You’ll need these, too.” Amy handed her a pair of leggings and moccasins. “I hope we wear the same shoe size,” she said.
“They’re just right,” Jessie said, slipping her feet into the soft red moccasins. “They feel like slippers.”
Amy smiled. “Take a look in the mirror, Jessie. With some jewelry and a pouch, you’ll look just like a Navajo girl.”
“I love it!” Jessie said.
“A Navajo girl would probably sew a lot of pretty beads on her regalia, but we don’t have time for that, since we have to practice the dance. We’ll just add a necklace and a few bracelets and you’ll be all set.”
Meanwhile, Henry and Benny were downstairs admiring Joe’s hand-cut leather belts.
“Wow, these are neat,” Benny said. He picked up a slender belt of fine tanned leather. “Do you think my eagle will fit on this one, Joe?”
Joe eyed the eagle that Benny had drawn on his graph paper. “I think you need a wider one,” he said. “If you know what colors you want to use, you can start doing the beadwork right now.”
“How do we get started?” Benny ran his fingers through the dishes of colored beads on the dining-room table.
Joe handed Benny two small blocks of wood and a flat board. “First we have to make the loom, Benny. We’re going to nail a block on each end of the board, and then hammer in a row of eight nails across the top and bottom.”
“This part is fun,” Benny said, as he and Joe worked. When they had finished, Benny looked up expectantly. “Now what?”
“Now cut eight pieces of string. Make sure they’re long enough so that you can string them from the top to the bottom of the loom. Once they’re fastened good and tight, you can thread a needle and start making rows of beads.”
“Okay!” Benny said happily.
“I’ll help you thread the needle,” Henry said to Benny.
“And I’ll help you string the loom,” Joe said.
When they had finished, Joe said, “Nice work,” examining the homemade loom.
“Thanks. What do I do next?” Benny asked.
“This is the part I like most of all.” Joe pointed to the bowls of beads in the center of the table. “Look at your design, and see what color beads you need for each row.”
Benny squinted at the graph paper and then burst into a smile. “It’s easy,” he said proudly. “All I have to do is count the little squares. I need three blue beads, four black beads, and three more blue ones. That will be for the sky and the top of the eagle’s head.”
“Very good,” Joe said. “Just make sure you thread the beads in exactly that order.”
Downstairs, Violet was measuring molasses for the Indian pudding. The kitchen was already filled with the rich smells of cinnamon and vanilla.
“This is a very old recipe,” Mrs. Lightfeather told her. “My great-grandmother gave it to me.” She laughed. “Of course, in the old days, the women would grind their own cornmeal.” She reached for a box of cornmeal in the pantry. “Now we can do it the easy way.”
“How did your great-grandmother cook?” Violet asked. “She didn’t have a stove, did she?”
“No, but she had a campfire. And lots of stoneware pots.”
“Like the one I found at the dig!” Violet said.
“Yes, exactly.”
Violet was puzzled. “But you said the pot I found was made out of clay. Wouldn’t it break if you put it over the fire?”
“Yes, it would,” Mrs. Lightfeather said. “So the Navajos had to think of another way of heating their food. And do you know what they did?” When Violet shook her head, she went on: “They heated a stone over the fire and filled the clay pot with water. Then they dropped the stone into the water.”
“So the stone made the water hot,” Violet said quickly, “and they could cook some of their food that way.”
“Exactly.” Mrs. Lightfeather sat down at the kitchen table while Violet mixed ingredients in a sky-blue bowl. “You know, Violet,” she said, “now that there are two of us doing the cooking, I could probably try a few more recipes to exhibit at the Pow-Wow. Would you like that?”
“I’d like that a lot,” Violet told her. She was really enjoying herself at the Lightfeathers.’ Joe and Amy were so friendly, and she liked learning new things. “I just realized that there’s a design on the bottom of the bowl,” she said, lifting the wooden spoon out for a moment.
“That’s my grandmother’s bowl,” Mrs. Lightfeather told her. “It has a thunderbird on the bottom.”
“I’ve never heard of that kind of bird,” Violet said, surprised.
“It’s not a real bird, but it’s a very important symbol to our people. The Navajos used to believe that the thunderbird made thunder by flapping his wings. And when he opened and closed his eyes, lightning flashed across the sky.”
Violet knew she had seen the symbol somewhere before, and she frowned, trying to remember. Suddenly it came to her. “Mrs. Lightfeather,” she said, “I think there was a thunderbird on the rim of the bowl I found at the dig.”
“Really?” Mrs. Lightfeather looked up from an old recipe file.
“A tiny one. And it had its wings outstretched just like this one.”
“Why don’t you get the bowl and we can look at it again?” Mrs. Lightfeather suggested. “I’ll finish the mixing.”
Violet raced outside to the patio. After everyone had admired the bowl, she had carefully cleaned it and put it in a sturdy cardboard box in the utility shed. Now she opened the door to the shed, flipped on the light switch, and reeled back in shock. The box was gone!
Violet began searching the shelves, her heart pounding. Could someone have moved it? But who — and why? After a few minutes, she realized her search was hopeless. Her treasure was gone. |