“Mebby the kid did see a ghost after all,” muttered the guide.

“The kid did.  And I guess the kid ought to know,” returned Stacy pompously.

CHAPTER XX

IN THE HOME OF THE HAVASUPAIS

An investigation showed that Ned Rector was right in his assertion.  His rifle had been taken, likewise his revolver and his cartridges.  It lent color to Stacy’s statement that he had seen something, but no one believed that that something had been a ghost, unless perhaps the guide believed it, for having lived close to Nature so long, he might be a superstitious person.

There was little sleep in the camp of the Pony Rider Boys for the rest of the night.  They were too fully absorbed in discussing the events of the evening and the mysteries that seemed to surround them.  First, Stacy had lost his rifle, the captive lion had mysteriously disappeared, and now another member of their party had lost his rifle and revolver.  Dad directed the boys not to move about at all.  He hoped to find a trail in the morning, a trail that would give him a clue in case prowlers had been in the camp.

A search in the morning failed to develop anything of the sort.  Not the slightest trace of a stranger having visited the camp was discovered.  They gave up—–­the mystery was too much for them.

That day Nance decided to move on.  Their camp was to remain at the same place, but the half breed was directed to sleep by day and to stay on guard during the night.  Jim proposed to take his charges into the wonderful Cataract Canyon, where they would pay a visit to the village of the Havasupai Indians.

This appealed to the Pony Riders.  They had seen no Indians since coming to the Grand Canyon.  They did not know that there were Indians ranging through that rugged territory, red men who were as familiar with the movements of the Pony Rider Boys as were the boys themselves.

They arrived at the Cataract Canyon on the morning of the second day, having visited another part of Bright Angel Gulch for a day en route.

At the entrance to the beautiful canyon the guide paused to tell them something about it.

“I will tell you,” he said, “how the Havasupais came to select this canyon for their home.  When the several bands of red men, who afterwards became the great tribes of the south-west, left their sacred Canyon—–­mat-aw-we’-dit-ta—–­by direction of their Moses—–­Ka-that-ka-na’-ve—–­to find new homes, the Havasupai family journeyed eastward on the trail taken by the Navajos and the Hopi.  One night they camped in this canyon.  Early the next day they took up their burdens to continue on their journey.  But as they were starting a little papoose began to cry.  The Kohot of the family, believing this to be a warning from the Great Spirit, decided to remain in the canyon.

“They found this fertile valley, containing about five hundred acres of level land.  They called the place Ha-va-sua, meaning ‘Blue Water,’ and after a time they themselves were known, as Havasupai—–­’Dwellers By the Blue water’.  They have been here ever since.”