Ross had been studying the hogan, and obviously was impressed by the work. But he would not say so. He sauntered over and leaned rather heavily against the doorway.

"Hey, Ross!" exclaimed Dan, dropping his hammer. "Don't do that. You might knock the thing down."

"Why should I bother?" Ross retorted loftily. "A good strong wind will take care of it. Den 1 has a much better hogan. We really did a job."

"Glad to hear it," Dan replied, refusing to take offense.

Ross' unexpected arrival in camp did not please the other Cubs. Chips, in particular, had not abandoned his belief that the Den 1 boy had been responsible for the loss of the painted paddle. He now eyed him suspiciously.

"What brings you here so often, anyhow?" he demanded.

"Oh, just looking around."

It was on the tip of Chips' tongue to accuse Ross of taking the missing paddle. However, a warning glance from Brad caused him to lapse into silence.

Ross moved away from the hogan toward a site on the beach which Dan painstakingly had cleared in preparation for making a large sand painting.

"What's going up here?" the Den 1 boy asked curiously.

"Oh, just a surprise feature for the pow-wow," Dan told him. "An added attraction."

"We may have a few other surprises to spring too," hinted Red.

"Such as?"

"Real Indian stuff," Red informed him. "Maybe some Indians."

This was too much for Ross. "Fat chance of digging up a live Indian in Webster City," he scoffed. "You're just doing a lot of silly talking."

Darkness was settling over the treetops, so Mr. Hatfield brought the friendly argument to an end by saying it was time to end the work for that day.

"It looks a little like rain," he observed, squinting at the sky. "We'll have to take our tools inside tonight."

"Some of the stuff can be loaded into the canoe and paddled down stream to the cabin," suggested Mr. Holloway.

Brad and Dan, aided by Fred, quickly gathered up the more c.u.mbersome items, stowing them in the craft. Mr. Hatfield supervised the loading.

He intended to a.s.sign Brad and Dan to take the canoe in, with Mr.

Holloway riding along to supervise the job.

Before he could do so, Ross grabbed up one of the paddles.

"Let me help," he offered.

"Well, what d'you know?" Chips muttered, his mouth sagging open.

Without waiting for anyone's consent, Ross stepped into the canoe. He and Mr. Holloway shoved off and with deft, sure strokes paddled downstream toward the nearby Holloway cabin.

"Ross certainly turned cooperative fast," Dan muttered. "You could push me over with a hummingbird's feather!"

"Look at that boy paddle!" murmured Midge in grudging admiration. "He's good!"

"That's why he grabbed a paddle," Red said contemptuously. "He wanted to show off."

"He'll win the canoe race for Den 1," Midge declared with misgiving.

Dan and Brad watched Ross silently and without envy. Each summer the Langdon boy spent several weeks at his parents' cottage on Lake Elmo and quite naturally had acquired a high degree of skill at all types of water sports.

The two Den 2 Cubs knew full well that they would be up against tough compet.i.tion in the race. They wanted to win for their organization.

Though they made no comment, both silently determined to practice harder than ever before in an effort to at least give Ross a run for his money.

In the next few days, the Cubs spent all their spare time either working at the camp or otherwise making preparation for the coming pow-wow.

One night after school, Dan, Brad and Midge canva.s.sed several neighborhoods in search of items to be exhibited and also clothing to be sent to the Navajo reservation.

By design, Brad included the home of Professor Sarazen as one of their stops. Mrs. Sarazen gave the boys a bundle of clothing and showed them a half dozen beautifully woven Navajo blankets which her husband had acquired on a trip West.

"Would you like to have one of them for your pow-wow?" she inquired.

"They're all very fine blankets."

"Gee! We'd sure like to have one, if you aren't afraid it might be damaged!" Dan exclaimed gratefully.

"I've loaned things to the Cubs before," Mrs. Sarazen said, smiling.

"They're very dependable, I've learned."

Removing one of the smaller blankets from a cedar chest, she spread it out on the floor for the boys to see.

"This is a ceremonial blanket, often called a _Yeib.i.t.c.hai_ or a sand-painting rug," she explained. "The first of this type was made in 1910 by Hosteen Tia, a Navajo medicine-man."

"Why do they call it a sand painting rug?" Brad asked curiously.

"Each rug is a replica of a sand painting," Mrs. Sarazen explained.

"Say, maybe we could make our sand painting like this blanket!" Dan proposed. "It's an awfully complicated design though."

"It is that," agreed Mrs. Sarazen. "Almost too intricate, I'd judge, for duplication."

The blanket was largely woven in black and white. It was characterized by figures representing twelve rattlesnakes.

Mrs. Sarazen told the Cubs that the original sand painting from which the blanket had been copied represented a ceremony connected with a snake-bite cure.

"Take the blanket along now," she urged. "If the design isn't too intricate, use it for your own sand painting."

Just then Professor Sarazen sauntered in from the garden. He told the boys more about Navajo blankets, tribal customs and habits.

In turn, Brad related how the Cubs had come upon the strange carved face on the cliff wall.

"I must see that carving for myself!" Professor Sarazen exclaimed. "From your description, I doubt that it was made by any Webster City sculptor."