The Mystery of the Lost Village Read online

Violet took his hand. “Me, too.”

  After dinner that night, Amy and Jessie went upstairs to begin working on their outfits for the Pow-Wow dance.

  “We need to make a buckskin dress for you,” Amy said. “My mom said you could use this.” She opened a cardboard box and laid two sheets of tan buckskin across her bed.

  “It’s beautiful material,” Jessie said. “But how can we make a dress out of it?”

  Amy pulled a simple Navajo dress out of her closet. “It’s really easy to do. You use one sheet for the front, and one for the back, and then you attach them at the shoulders.”

  “What do we do about the sides?” Jessie asked.

  “That part’s easy. We just lace up the sides.” She smiled at Jessie’s puzzled look. “Don’t worry. If we’re the same size, we can use my dress as a pattern.”

  Amy held her dress up to Jessie and nodded. “Just what I thought. This will fit you perfectly.” She handed Jessie a pair of scissors and both girls sat on the bed. Amy laid her dress over the buckskin and trimmed the material to match it. “Now all we have to do is make a lot of little cuts down each side.”

  “Fringe!” Jessie said, pleased.

  “Exactly,” Amy answered.

  At last they were finished. Amy stood up. “Time to try it on,” she said. A buckskin thong on each shoulder held the dress together. Amy worked quickly, lacing up the sides while Jessie stood still.

  “Now all we need is a cape, and that’s really easy.” She reached into the box and pulled out a piece of rectangular buckskin with a hole in the center. “Just slip this over your head.”

  “It feels so soft,” Jessie said, running her hand over the smooth skin.

  “You’ll need these, too.” Amy handed her a pair of leggings and moccasins. “I hope we wear the same shoe size,” she said.

  “They’re just right,” Jessie said, slipping her feet into the soft red moccasins. “They feel like slippers.”

  Amy smiled. “Take a look in the mirror, Jessie. With some jewelry and a pouch, you’ll look just like a Navajo girl.”

  “I love it!” Jessie said.

  “A Navajo girl would probably sew a lot of pretty beads on her regalia, but we don’t have time for that, since we have to practice the dance. We’ll just add a necklace and a few bracelets and you’ll be all set.”

  Meanwhile, Henry and Benny were downstairs admiring Joe’s hand-cut leather belts.

  “Wow, these are neat,” Benny said. He picked up a slender belt of fine tanned leather. “Do you think my eagle will fit on this one, Joe?”

  Joe eyed the eagle that Benny had drawn on his graph paper. “I think you need a wider one,” he said. “If you know what colors you want to use, you can start doing the beadwork right now.”

  “How do we get started?” Benny ran his fingers through the dishes of colored beads on the dining-room table.

  Joe handed Benny two small blocks of wood and a flat board. “First we have to make the loom, Benny. We’re going to nail a block on each end of the board, and then hammer in a row of eight nails across the top and bottom.”

  “This part is fun,” Benny said, as he and Joe worked. When they had finished, Benny looked up expectantly. “Now what?”

  “Now cut eight pieces of string. Make sure they’re long enough so that you can string them from the top to the bottom of the loom. Once they’re fastened good and tight, you can thread a needle and start making rows of beads.”

  “Okay!” Benny said happily.

  “I’ll help you thread the needle,” Henry said to Benny.

  “And I’ll help you string the loom,” Joe said.

  When they had finished, Joe said, “Nice work,” examining the homemade loom.

  “Thanks. What do I do next?” Benny asked.

  “This is the part I like most of all.” Joe pointed to the bowls of beads in the center of the table. “Look at your design, and see what color beads you need for each row.”

  Benny squinted at the graph paper and then burst into a smile. “It’s easy,” he said proudly. “All I have to do is count the little squares. I need three blue beads, four black beads, and three more blue ones. That will be for the sky and the top of the eagle’s head.”

  “Very good,” Joe said. “Just make sure you thread the beads in exactly that order.”

  Downstairs, Violet was measuring molasses for the Indian pudding. The kitchen was already filled with the rich smells of cinnamon and vanilla.

  “This is a very old recipe,” Mrs. Lightfeather told her. “My great-grandmother gave it to me.” She laughed. “Of course, in the old days, the women would grind their own cornmeal.” She reached for a box of cornmeal in the pantry. “Now we can do it the easy way.”

  “How did your great-grandmother cook?” Violet asked. “She didn’t have a stove, did she?”

  “No, but she had a campfire. And lots of stoneware pots.”

  “Like the one I found at the dig!” Violet said.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Violet was puzzled. “But you said the pot I found was made out of clay. Wouldn’t it break if you put it over the fire?”

  “Yes, it would,” Mrs. Lightfeather said. “So the Navajos had to think of another way of heating their food. And do you know what they did?” When Violet shook her head, she went on: “They heated a stone over the fire and filled the clay pot with water. Then they dropped the stone into the water.”

  “So the stone made the water hot,” Violet said quickly, “and they could cook some of their food that way.”

  “Exactly.” Mrs. Lightfeather sat down at the kitchen table while Violet mixed ingredients in a sky-blue bowl. “You know, Violet,” she said, “now that there are two of us doing the cooking, I could probably try a few more recipes to exhibit at the Pow-Wow. Would you like that?”

  “I’d like that a lot,” Violet told her. She was really enjoying herself at the Lightfeathers.’ Joe and Amy were so friendly, and she liked learning new things. “I just realized that there’s a design on the bottom of the bowl,” she said, lifting the wooden spoon out for a moment.

  “That’s my grandmother’s bowl,” Mrs. Lightfeather told her. “It has a thunderbird on the bottom.”

  “I’ve never heard of that kind of bird,” Violet said, surprised.

  “It’s not a real bird, but it’s a very important symbol to our people. The Navajos used to believe that the thunderbird made thunder by flapping his wings. And when he opened and closed his eyes, lightning flashed across the sky.”

  Violet knew she had seen the symbol somewhere before, and she frowned, trying to remember. Suddenly it came to her. “Mrs. Lightfeather,” she said, “I think there was a thunderbird on the rim of the bowl I found at the dig.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Lightfeather looked up from an old recipe file.

  “A tiny one. And it had its wings outstretched just like this one.”

  “Why don’t you get the bowl and we can look at it again?” Mrs. Lightfeather suggested. “I’ll finish the mixing.”

  Violet raced outside to the patio. After everyone had admired the bowl, she had carefully cleaned it and put it in a sturdy cardboard box in the utility shed. Now she opened the door to the shed, flipped on the light switch, and reeled back in shock. The box was gone!

  Violet began searching the shelves, her heart pounding. Could someone have moved it? But who — and why? After a few minutes, she realized her search was hopeless. Her treasure was gone.

  CHAPTER 5

  Snooping at the Dig

  “I can’t believe it’s gone,” Violet said softly to Mrs. Lightfeather a few minutes later. “Who would take it?”

  “Someone must have stolen it,” Joe said. “Maybe they thought it was valuable.” All the children had gathered in the kitchen once they heard what had happened.

  “But no one else knows about the bowl,” Violet pointed out. “No one else even knows about the dig.”

  “That’s not really true,” Henry interrupted. “Wh
at about Rita Neville? And Ted Clark? We’ve run into both of them wandering around in the woods.”

  “I knew there was something suspicious about Ted Clark!” Amy blurted out. “He says he’s part Navajo, Mom, but he didn’t know what turquoise looks like. And he said his relatives are from New England!”

  Mrs. Lightfeather looked serious. “I met him yesterday, searching through the council records. If he told you he’s from New England, he’s way off base. All the Navajo tribes are right here in the Southwest,” she said.

  “Maybe he was watching from the woods when you found the bowl,” Jessie suggested. “And maybe he saw you put it in the tool shed.”

  “Maybe,” Violet said reluctantly. She couldn’t believe that someone would steal something she’d worked so hard to find. Yet someone had taken it. Why?

  The next morning was bright and sunny, and the children arrived at the dig after breakfast.

  “Just as I thought!” Jessie said. She pointed to a square on the left side of the dig. “Someone’s been here during the night.”

  “How do you know?” Benny asked.

  “Because I laid a little trap for them.” Jessie squatted on her heels and peered at the dirt. “I left two twigs here yesterday afternoon. I crossed them so they formed an X. And now look — they’ve been pushed aside.”

  “I think someone’s been snooping around my square, too,” Henry said, frowning. “The hole is much deeper, and you can see red clay. I know I didn’t dig down that far yesterday.”

  “Who do you think is doing it?” Violet asked. She shivered a little even though the day was warm.

  “Probably the same person who took your bowl,” Amy said quietly. “And that person could be watching us from the woods right this minute.”

  “Good morning!” A cheerful voice made the children all turn in surprise. It was Michael Running Deer. He was standing in the center of the path, setting up a metal pole.

  “What are you doing?” Benny piped up.

  “I’m surveying,” Michael answered. “We’ll be moving those bulldozers in pretty soon, and I need to get some preliminary work done.” He unrolled some blueprints from his back pocket and looked over the dig. “There are always a few last-minute measurements to take before we get the heavy equipment in.”

  “I’m going to miss the woods,” Amy said sadly. “I can’t believe all these trees will be cut down in a few weeks.”

  Michael looked solemn. “I guess you kids have really enjoyed playing here.” He stared at the huge tree that towered over them. The sky was bright blue, and the forest had never looked more beautiful.

  “It’s more than playing,” Benny told him. “We’re finding things.”

  “What sort of things?” Michael asked.

  “Arrowheads, pieces of pottery,” Benny said. “And Violet found a bowl.”

  “It makes you think about the people who lived here a long time ago, doesn’t it?” Michael said. He lifted his binoculars and scanned the forest. “I often wonder about them.” He put down his binoculars and his expression was very serious. “But you can’t stop progress. Pretty soon, this whole forest will be full of roads and homes.” He wiped his face with a bandanna. “Well, I’d better get back to work now.”

  The children returned to the dig, and Violet looked thoughtful. “It seemed as if something was bothering him,” she whispered to Amy.

  Amy nodded. “It did. I wonder what?” She crouched over her square at the dig and picked up a trowel.

  By mid-afternoon, everyone was tired and thirsty. “I’m ready to take a break,” Joe said. “Why don’t we go into town for a cold drink?”

  “Good idea!” Violet said, scrambling to her feet. She had just packed her trowel in her knapsack when Benny let out a whoop.

  “I’ve found something!” Benny was so excited he was digging in the earth with his bare hands. “It’s some kind of bone!”

  “Really?” Joe dropped down beside him. “Be careful you don’t damage it.” He helped Benny smooth away the top layers of soil from his find.

  “Here it is,” Benny said. He held up a large bone with a big knob at one end. “What is it?” he asked. “Do you think it came from a buffalo?”

  Amy leaned closer and started to laugh. “I’m afraid not, Benny. That bone belongs to Honey. She’s a cocker spaniel who lives next door to us.”

  “Honey?” Benny’s face fell. “You mean this is a dog bone?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Joe said. “She loves to bury things and then dig them up. If you look at it carefully, you’ll see it’s not even a real bone, Benny. It’s made out of rawhide.” Benny started to toss the bone back into the hole, but Joe stopped him. “Put it in your pocket, Benny. We’ll give it to Honey when we get back home.”

  Half an hour later, all six children trooped into Cranston’s, the general store.

  “This is my favorite place in town,” Amy confided. “They sell everything from saddles to sunflower seeds. And they make fresh lemonade with crushed ice.”

  The Aldens were settled with tall glasses of lemonade at a small table in the back of the store when they spotted Rita Neville at the counter.

  “She must still be looking for locations for that television show,” Violet whispered to Amy.

  When Jessie got up to get everyone refills a few minutes later, Ms. Neville was sipping a soft drink. She glanced at Jessie’s stained overalls and shook her head.

  “I bet you’ve been playing in the forest today,” she said in a friendly way. “Looks like you’ve been rolling in the dirt.”

  “We haven’t been playing, we’ve been working,” Benny said, suddenly popping up behind Jessie. “We’re … excavating.”

  “Oh, and what are you excavating?” Ms. Neville sounded as though she were joking.

  “All sorts of things,” Jessie said vaguely.

  “Violet found a really pretty dish, except now it’s gone!” Benny piped up.

  “That’s too bad. Maybe you can buy another one,” Rita Neville said.

  “This was a special dish,” Benny insisted. Jessie tried to catch Benny’s eye to make him stop talking, but he ignored her.

  Ms. Neville pushed away her drink and looked interested. “Have you found anything else? Any wood carvings? Any silver or turquoise?”

  “I don’t think so,” Benny shrugged.

  “Our drinks are ready,” Jessie said. She nudged her brother, glad that they had an excuse to escape from Ms. Neville.

  “Well, have you or haven’t you?” Ms. Neville repeated.

  “I told you I don’t know,” Benny said, putting the drinks on a cardboard tray. “Anyway, I wasn’t very lucky today. The only thing I found was an old bone.”

  “A bone!” Ms. Neville slid off the stool and knelt down so she could talk to Benny eye to eye. “Tell me about it. What did it look like?”

  “It was big, and it had a knob at one end — ”

  “Benny,” Jessie interrupted. “I can’t carry all these drinks by myself.”

  “Where did you find the bone? The same place you were digging the other day?”

  Benny opened his mouth to answer when Jessie said, “Benny!”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, picking up the tray. He couldn’t understand why Ms. Neville was so interested in a dumb old dog bone. “That’s right. I found it in the forest,” he said over his shoulder to Ms. Neville.

  She started to follow Jessie and Benny back to their seats, and then changed her mind. Throwing a dollar bill on the counter, she hurried out of the store.

  “She sure was interested in that bone,” Benny said when they sat down.

  “I wish we could find out what happened to my bowl,” Violet said. “It was so pretty, with the bird on one side, and the snake on the other.”

  “By the way,” Jessie said. “Why are there so many snakes on Indian pottery?”

  Amy looked up from her lemonade. “That’s because snakes, or serpents, have a special meaning for us.”

  “I unde
rstand why you like birds,” Violet said. “But why snakes?”

  “We respect them both.” Amy looked around the table at her friends. “Birds can soar high into the sky, but snakes are powerful, too. They can shed their skin. Now that’s a real mystery!”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Violet told her.

  “Can we stop at the stables on the way home?” Jessie asked. “I’d like to see Thunder again.”

  “Sure,” Amy agreed.

  When they stepped outside Cranston’s, they spotted Ted Clark, chatting with one of the elders of the tribe.

  “Hi, kids,” he greeted them. To their surprise, he fell into step with them as they headed to the stables. “I’ve been doing some research,” he said, patting a thick manila folder under his arm.

  “What have you learned?” Amy asked.

  “Well, I’ve come across something interesting,” he told her. “Did you know that some tribes use a stone to mark buried treasure?”

  Amy looked doubtful. “You don’t have to be a Navajo to use a stone as a marker.”

  “Oh, but this isn’t an ordinary stone.” Ted Clark lowered his voice as if he were telling an important secret. “It’s a special stone. It’s shaped like a triangle and glows in the dark.”

  “I’ve never heard of that,” Joe spoke up. “And Kinowok talks about Indian customs all the time.”

  “It’s true,” Ted Clark insisted. “Maybe not many people know about it, but it’s true.”

  He said good-bye at the end of the street, and the children headed for the stables. As they rounded the corner, Violet caught a glimpse of Rita Neville. She had been walking behind them the whole time! Was she spying on them?

  “Amy,” Violet asked when they were inside the stable, “do you believe what Ted said about the stone that glows in the dark?”

  Amy shrugged. “I never heard of it before, but it could be true, I guess.” She greeted Thunder, who whinnied softly when he saw them.

  “If we could find a stone like that at the dig, it would save us a lot of time.” Jessie paused. “We could go look for it tonight.”

  Meanwhile, the boys refilled Thunder’s trough with fresh hay. “So what did you think about the glowing-rock story?” Joe asked.