From his own side, Luck, returning again the
gesture, went out to meet him. In the center they met, and eyed each other
frankly. Still eyeing Luck, the old Indian put out his hand Indian fashion,
and Luck grave it one downward shake and let go.
"How?" he grunted; and in the Indian custom of preparing for a leisurely
pow-wow as he had been taught by the Sioux, he squatted upon his boot heels
and reached for his cigarette papers and tobacco.
"How?" replied the Navajo, a flicker of interest in his eyes at these little
Indian touches in Luck's manner, and sat himself down cross-legged on the hot
sand. Luck rolled a cigarette and passed the "makings" to the other, who
received it gravely and proceeded to help himself. luck scratched a match on a
stone that lay beside him, lighted the Indian's cigarette and then his own,
took four puffs and blew the smoke upward, watching it spread and drift away,
and made the gesture that meant "Our pow-wow will be good," as he had seen the
Sioux medicine men do before a council. Afterwards he began placidly to smoke
and meditate.
From his manner you would never have guessed that his life and the lives of
the Happy Family hung upon the outcome of this meeting.
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