So Casey tore up the note and went and begged a little food from Hahnaga; then he broached the subject of the gold mine.  The squaw listened, looking at him with dull black eyes and a face like a stamped-leather portrait of an Indian.  She shook her head and pointed down the gulch.

“No find gol’, bad girl.  I think killum my mans.  I dunno.  No fin’ gol’—­ Jim he no tellum.  No tellum me, no tellum Lucy, no tellum nobody.  I think, all time Jim hide.”  She made a gesture as of one covering something with dirt.  “Lucy all time try for fin’ gol’.  Jim he no likeum.  Lucy my sister girl.  Bad.  No good.  All time heap mean.  All time tellum heap big lie so Indian no likeum.  One time take monee, go ’way off.  School for write.  Come back for fin’ gol’, make Jim tellum.  Jim sick long time.  Jim no tellum.  Jim all time mad for Lucy.  Las’ night—­talk mean—­mebby fight—­Jim he die quick.  Lucy say killum me, I tell.

“Now me go my brother.  Walk two day.  Give you grub—­no got many grub.  You takeum gol’ you fin’.  Me no care.  No want.  You don’ give Lucy.  Lucy bad girl all time.  No fin’ gol’—­Jim he no tellum.  I dunno.”

That left Casey exactly where he had been before he found Injun Jim.  There was no getting around it; the squaw repeated her statements twice, which Casey thought was probably more talking that she had done before in the course of six months.  She impressed Casey as being truthful.  She really did not know any more about Injun Jim’s mine than did Casey.  Or perhaps a little more, because she knew, poor thing, just how drunk Jim could get on the whisky they gave him for the gold.  He used to beat her terribly when he came to camp drunk.  Casey learned that much, though it didn’t help him any.

Hahnaga did not seem to think that anything need be done about the manner of Jim’s death.  She said he was heap sick and would die anyway, or words—­ not many—­to that effect.  Casey decided to go on and mind his own business.  He did not see why, he said, the county of Nye should be let in for a lot of expense on Injun Jim’s account, even if Jim had been killed.  And as for punishing Lucy Lily, he was perfectly willing that it should be done, only he did not want to do it.  I have always believed that Casey was afraid she might possibly marry him in spite of himself if she were in his immediate neighborhood long enough.

They made themselves each a small pack of food and what was more vital, water, and went their different ways.  Hahnaga struck off to the west, to her brother at the end of Forty-Mile Canyon.  At least, that was where she said her brother mostly camped.  Casey retraced his steps for the second time to the camp of the tenderfeet.  Loco Canyon, Casey calls the place, claiming it by right of discovery.