This night we experienced a repetition of the tactics of the
night before, as regarded the safety of our herd, but Don Juan had to
pay a higher ransom in the morning. While we were awaiting the
arrival of the Indians with our lost steers, Chief Manuelito honored
us again with his presence. He sat down at our fire, and producing a
greasy deck of Spanish playing cards, he challenged Don Juan to a
game of monte. That was an irresistible temptation for my companion.
By the smiling expression of his wizened features I divined that he
thought he saw his chance for revenge. Manuelito undoubtedly had a
strain of sporting blood in his veins, as he offered to stake his
horses, blankets, squaws, and everything he had against the Mexican's
wagons and cargo. I warned Don Juan to have a care, as I knew the
cunning of the Navajo tribe, having dealt with them before, and
advised him to play the traps he had bought from them with liquor
against a chipper little squaw who was richly dressed and had come
with Chief Manuelito, mounted on a white pony. I believed her to be
the chief's daughter. When she understood the import of the
conversation, she looked haughtily and in a disdainful manner at Don
Juan, but appeared to be pleased with me and eyed me with symptoms of
curiosity.
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