“Is everybody ready for another day at the dig?” Amy asked at breakfast the next morning.
“We’re all set,” Henry said, finishing a big plate of bacon and eggs.
“Benny helped me pack sandwiches and a thermos of cider,” Joe added, pointing to a picnic basket. “We can work until sundown, if we want to.”
The six children were just heading out the front door when they nearly collided with a young man dressed in jeans and denim.
“Is Mrs. Lightfeather at home?” he asked politely. “I’m Michael Running Deer.”
“You must be new on the reservation,” Amy said, staring at the stranger.
“He’s not from the reservation,” Mrs. Lightfeather said, suddenly appearing in the front hall. “You didn’t waste any time,” she said, handing him a batch of official-looking papers. “This will show you the exact boundaries of the reservation.”
“Thanks,” the young man said, tucking the papers under his arm. “The bulldozers will be here before we know it,” he added heading down the front walk.
“Mom, who was that?” Joe asked, concerned.
His mother sighed. “Michael Running Deer works for the real estate developer,” she said sadly. “I’m afraid we’re very close to losing the forest.”
“Then let’s get going,” Benny said, barreling out the door. “Maybe we can find the lost village today!”
Mrs. Lightfeather smiled. “That would be wonderful, Benny, but don’t count on it.”
It was a bright, sunny day and, by mid-morning, Henry and Joe decided to take a break. They had just settled down on a log to drink some cider, when they were surprised by a young woman in a nice dress and high heels, with a video camera slung over her shoulder.
“Oh,” she said, startled. “I didn’t expect to find anybody here.” She looked at the grid Henry had drawn in the soft earth, and the mounds of dirt that the children had overturned. “I guess I should introduce myself,” she said in a friendly voice. “I’m Rita Neville.”
“I’m Henry Alden and this is my friend, Joe Lightfeather,” Henry told her.
“What are they doing?” the woman asked, pointing to Jessie and Amy who were vigorously digging with their trowels.
Henry hesitated. The lost village was a secret, and he knew that Joe didn’t feel like sharing it with anyone.
“It looks like a treasure hunt,” she prompted, when no one answered her.
“It’s more like a scavenger hunt,” Joe said finally. “We’re playing a game.”
“Well, have fun.” She took another quick look at the dig and turned to leave. “I’ve got to get back to work now.” Her high heels sank into the soft earth, and she nearly stumbled.
“Excuse me, but what are you working on?” Joe asked.
“I’m a television producer,” she said brightly. She patted her camera case. “I’m planning a documentary on Indian life, and I need some location shots.”
“But this isn’t part of the reservation,” Henry told her.
“Oh, I know,” she said quickly. “I just felt like taking a hike. I’m staying at Morton’s Motel.”
“What did you think of her?” Henry asked when Rita Neville was out of earshot.
Joe shrugged. “I don’t think she wandered here by mistake. Nobody goes for a hike dressed up like that.”
“You’re right. There isn’t even a path.” He squinted at the midday sun, just as Violet called to him from the dig.
“Hey, break time is over!” she teased him.
Henry nodded. “I guess we should get back to work.”
It was late afternoon when Violet squealed in surprise. “Look what I found!” she said, pointing to a dark red circle in the dirt.
“What is it?” Jessie asked.
“I think it’s the rim of a plate, or bowl,” Henry said excitedly. “And it looks like it’s not even broken. You’ll have to be careful getting it out in one piece.”
“I’m going to take my time,” Violet said. She hunched over her find and began brushing away layers of earth. After a few minutes, she sank back on her heels. “There it is!”
“It’s beautiful,” Jessie told her. Together they lifted the large earthenware bowl out of the sandy soil. “And there’s not even a single chip on it.”
“Violet, I think you found something important,” Joe said.
“I want to find a bowl, too!” Benny said eagerly.
Amy laughed. “All right, Benny. But I don’t think we’ll be lucky twice in one day.”
At the end of the day’s work, the four Aldens were tired, but happy. After congratulating Violet on finding the bowl, Mrs. Lightfeather talked about plans for the Pow-Wow.
“We really need to get started on a project. The Pow-Wow is only a week away,” she said. She turned to the Aldens. “Who wants to be my helper?”
“I’ll volunteer!” Violet spoke up. “What are we going to make?”
“Corn pudding.”
“Corn pudding?” Benny wrinkled his nose.
“You’ll love it,” Amy promised. “It’s got cornmeal, molasses, and lots of spices. Mom makes it on the stove, but in the old days, it would have cooked for hours over the fire.”
“What about us? What can we do?” Benny spoke up.
“You and Henry can help me make some belts,” Joe said. “I’ve already cut the leather and made the buckles, but there’s lots of bead work to do.”
“You’re making belts?” Benny looked surprised. “Why not just buy some?”
Joe laughed. “You can’t buy belts like these. Each one is handmade, and they all have designs from our tribe.” He turned to Henry. “We can get started after dinner tonight.”
Later that evening, Amy took Violet and Jessie to see her Appaloosa pony named Thunder. It was a short walk from the Lightfeathers’ house to the reservation’s stable, and Thunder whinnied with pleasure when he saw the girls.
“He’s really gentle,” Amy said. She held up a plastic bag filled with apple slices. “This is his favorite treat. You can feed him, if you want to.”
“Could we ride him sometime?” Jessie asked.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Amy said. “After we work at the dig. I’m really getting excited about it, aren’t you?”
Violet was about to answer when a noise behind her made her jump.
“Sorry, girls,” said a tall blond man in his early thirties. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He had come into the stable so quietly that they hadn’t heard him. “Nice horse,” he added, patting Thunder on the neck. “Pinto, right?”
“He’s an Appaloosa,” Amy corrected him. She stared at him, puzzled. She knew he didn’t live on the reservation.
“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” he said casually. “I’m Ted Clark. I’m a genealogist.” He grinned at the blank looks on the girls’ faces. “A genealogist is someone who traces family trees.”
“Do you mean grandparents and great-grandparents?” Amy asked.
“Even further back than that. I’m hoping to go back five or six generations in my family. The council gave me permission to look through their records.”
“Oh,” Amy said, understanding. “You’re a Navajo?”
“Partly,” Ted Clark said. “Most of my family, I mean my ancestors, come from the northeast. Places like Maine and New Hampshire.”
“Welcome to the reservation,” Amy said.
“Thanks. Nice necklace you’re wearing,” he said, noticing the heavy silver strand around Amy’s neck. “That’s a pretty stone in the center. An opal, right?”
Amy touched the bright blue stone. “No, it’s a turquoise.”
“Oh, I’ve never seen one before. Well, I’d better get going. I’m staying at the motel in town, and I’ve got a lot of work to do. Nice to meet you.”
After he left, Jessie and Violet fed Thunder while Amy used a curry brush to smooth his mane.
“Something’s wrong,” Amy said quietly.
“What?” Jessie looked up as Thunder nuzzled her hand.
“Ted Clark.” She shook her head. “He said he’s part Navajo, but he couldn’t even recognize a piece of turquoise.”
Jessie shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t know much about stones.”
“It’s more than that,” Amy persisted. She touched the blue stone around her neck. “Turquoise is very important to my people, and we use it in a lot of our jewelry. There’s even a legend about it.”
“Oh, tell us,” Violet said. She loved stories and enjoyed hearing tales about the Navajo people.
“I guess you’d call it a fairy tale. Once there was a woman who found a beautiful blue stone — a piece of turquoise. It was the prettiest stone she had ever seen, and she took it to the top of a high mountain. When she set it down, it turned into a goddess right before her eyes.” She paused. “I’ve heard that story ever since I was a little girl. I wonder why Ted Clark had never heard it.”
After they locked the stable, the three girls headed back to the Lightfeather house.
“Jessie, I just realized something,” Amy said. “You don’t have a project for the Pow-Wow. Would you like to do an Indian dance with me?”
“An Indian dance?” Jessie repeated. “Would I be allowed to?”
“We can talk to Kinowok, but I’m sure he’ll say yes. At the Pow-Wow, we can explain that you’re not a Navajo, but you’re a guest. When we dance at the Pow-Wow, sometimes guests join in. It’s our way of sharing our customs with the townspeople.”
“It sounds like fun, but …” Jessie hesitated. “Do you think I’ll be able to learn the dance in time to perform it?”
Amy nodded. “The dance is very simple. The hard part is making the regalia.”
“What’s regalia?” Violet asked.
“It’s an authentic Navajo dress from the old days. You would probably call it a costume, but we call it regalia. Don’t worry, Jessie,” she said encouragingly. “I’ll help you with it.”
Later that evening, Jessie noticed Henry and Joe sifting through boxes of colored beads on the dining-room table. Benny was frowning over a pad of graph paper, nibbling the end of his pencil.
“What are you doing?” Jessie asked curiously.
“We’re working on our beaded belts, but I can’t think of what to draw. Joe says that first you make a picture on this special paper, and then you choose the beads. That’s the fun part.” He pointed to some crumbled-up graph paper. “But I’m stuck. I can’t think of anything I want to draw.”
Jessie thought for a moment. “What about an eagle?” she asked, thinking of the beautiful design on her bedspread.
Benny brightened. “That’s a great idea!” He immediately bent down and began drawing the outline of an eagle with outspread wings.
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