The Mystery of the Lost Village (2 page)
“A storyteller!” Benny said excitedly. “I bet you know a zillion stories.”
Kinowok smiled as Mr. Lightfeather helped him into his chair. “I've never counted them,” he said in a surprisingly strong voice. “But if you stay long enough, you shall hear many.”
“What kind of stories do you tell?” Henry asked, as everyone sat down. “Do you know any mysteries?”
Kinowok spread his palms in a graceful gesture. “Everything around us is a mystery. It all depends on how you look at it.”
“That sounds like a riddle,” Benny said, as Amy passed him a giant bowl of mashed potatoes.
“Let me explain,” Kinowok said, settling back in his chair. “I live at the edge of the reservation, in the foothills. When I walked here tonight, I stumbled across a mystery. I saw some blades of grass that were crushed and some broken dry sticks.” He paused. “What did it mean? Can you solve the mystery, young man?” he asked Henry.
Henry hesitated. How could some dry sticks and blades of grass be a mystery? “I guess not, sir,” he said finally.
Kinowok gave a broad smile and turned to Joe, who was sitting next to his sister, Amy. “Joe, can you explain it?”
“It might have been a deer running through the brush,” Joe said. “He could have crushed the grass and broken the sticks. You'd know for sure if you spotted his tracks.”
“Wow, I never thought of that,” Benny said, impressed.
“Can you tell your friends anything else?” Kinowok continued. “Let's suppose that I did see tracks.”
Joe thought. “Well, you could look at the footprints and tell right away if the deer is male or female. The female has sharper hooves and narrower feet, and the male has a rounded point on his hooves.”
Benny was so surprised he nearly forgot to eat. Imagine telling all that just from a footprint!
“And you can tell a lot just from his toe prints,” Amy said.
“Toe prints?” Violet asked. “I never heard of such a thing.”
“It's true,” Amy insisted. “If the toes are spread apart, it means the deer was just running around playing. But if the toes are tight together, it means it was running for its life.”
“There are many other mysteries nearby,” Kinowok said. “But you have to know where to look.”
“What other mysteries?” Benny leaned forward. He didn't want to miss a single word.
“When I was a boy,” Kinowok said, “my grandfather told me about a tribal village nearby. It existed a long, long time ago, and its people were peaceful and prosperous. But one summer there was a drought, and the river dried up.”
“Then what happened?” Violet asked.
Kinowok shrugged. “Without water, the people could not survive, so the families left. Soon the whole village was overrun with grass and weeds, and now it's buried. Just as though the earth had swallowed it up.”
“A lost village,” Henry said suddenly. “I just finished reading a book about archaeology, which is the study of ancient peoples. It said that sometimes you can find clues if you know where to start digging.”
“Could we look for the village?” Jessie asked. “How close is it?”
“Closer than you think,” Kinowok answered. “According to my grandfather, it's just a few feet away.”
“It's part of the reservation?” Mr. Lightfeather asked.
“No, but it borders on our land. It's hidden somewhere deep in the forest, next to us,” Kinowok said. “Some people doubt that the village ever existed. But I have never doubted.”
“Wow,” said Benny. “I bet we could find it and dig it up if we really tried.”
“Archaeology is harder than you think, Benny,” Henry said. “You can't just dig things up without knowing what you're doing.”
“But we could learn, couldn't we?” Amy pleaded. “Mom, you studied archaeology in college, didn't you?”
“That was a long time ago,” Mrs. Lightfeather said. “But I spent a couple of summers working on digs, and I can give you some hints, if you like. As a matter of fact, once in a while some students have tried to find the lost village. They never did find it, however. Henry is right, though, it
is
hard.” She smiled. “Why don't we talk about it tomorrow morning?”
“Then we can start digging!” Joe said. “Sounds great!” said Jessie. “A Pow-Wow
and
a lost village,” Benny said. “This could be our best adventure ever!”
“A village never disappears completely,” Mrs. Lightfeather said the next morning. The Aldens were sitting around the oak breakfast table with Joe and Amy, drinking orange juice. “There are always traces left behind, and the trick is to find them. That's what archaeology is all about.”
“What sort of traces?” Benny asked.
“It could be a cooking pot, or maybe an arrowhead, or a handful of colored beads. The important thing is to be very careful and not destroy something important.” She opened a cardboard box and pointed to some small digging tools and brushes. “You can dig with these trowels, and then use the sifter to catch any fragments you find in the soil.”
“Why do you have a paintbrush in there?” Benny asked.
“That's not a paintbrush,” Henry said. “You use that to brush dirt off the objects carefully, instead of just yanking them out of the ground. That way you don't damage them.”
“That's right,” Mrs. Lightfeather said. “Take the tools with you this morning, and remember that an archaeologist is like a detective. You have to look for clues, and put the pieces together. And here's a box to hold any treasures you may find.”
Half an hour later, the four Aldens, along with Joe and Amy, were making their way deep into the forest.
“I wonder how much of the village is left,” Violet said.
“Probably not much,” Jessie spoke up. “Where should we start digging?”
“I've found a lot of arrowheads straight ahead in that clearing,” Joe said. “But that doesn't mean there's a village.”
“Then let's start there,” Jessie said eagerly. “Though I'm not sure I'd even recognize an arrowhead if I saw one.”
“Kinowok taught me a lot about them.” When they reached the clearing, Joe hunched down in the soft earth and opened the box of tools. “He can even tell what tribe they're from.”
“We should start by making a grid,” Henry said. “That's the way real archaeologists work.”
“A grid?” Benny was puzzled.
Henry drew several lines in the dirt with the end of a stick. “You see, if we divide the area up into squares, we can make sure we don't go over the same place twice.”
“That's a good idea,” Violet said. “I'll take this square.”
For the next two hours, the children worked steadily, scraping away layers of dirt with the trowels.
“Look, Jessie,” Amy said, nudging her. “I think you've found an arrowhead. Or at least part of one.”
“Are you sure?” Jessie picked up a piece of gray stone and dusted it off.
“That's an arrowhead, all right,” Joe said happily.
“It just looks like a plain old stone,” Jessie looked disappointed.
“Someone spent a long time making it,” Joe told her. He turned it over in his palm. “See all those little chips along the sides? You make those with a pointed hammer. Every time you hit the edge, a tiny flake flies off. And you have to make sure each little chip touches the next.”
Jessie ran her finger carefully along the edge, and drew back. “It's really sharp.”
“Look,” Benny said excitedly, a little while later. “I found something!” He plucked a piece of bright orange pottery out of the dirt. “I think it's part of a plate, or maybe a bowl.”
“It has a Navajo design on it,” Amy said. “See those two tents put together to form a diamond? That stands for north, south, east and west. The four points of the compass.”
“I bet we're standing right over the lost village!” Benny said, reaching for the trowel. “I want to keep working all day.”
Amy laughed. “Don't you want to take a break for lunch? We packed chicken sandwiches, and I have a thermos of lemonade.”
Benny looked up with interest. “Maybe a quick break,” he said eagerly.
It was late afternoon when the children returned to the Lightfeather home. Amy raced into the kitchen to show her mother their treasures.
“Jessie found an arrowhead, and Benny found some pottery,” she exclaimed. “I think we're really on the trail of the ancient village, Mom.”
Mrs. Lightfeather gave a sad smile. “I'm happy that you enjoyed your dig, but I'm afraid your days there are numbered.”
“What do you mean?” Amy asked.
“We had a council meeting this morning, and it seems that a real estate developer is trying to take over the forest. He wants to build vacation homes there.”
“He's going to chop down all those trees?” Joe asked.
“That's right, if he gets a permit from the local government.” Mrs. Lightfeather poured tall glasses of juice for everyone. “So enjoy the forest while you can. There will be bulldozers there in a couple of weeks.”
“Isn't there anything we can do to stop them?” Henry asked.
Mrs. Lightfeather looked thoughtful. “Well, if there's really a village buried on that land, the real estate developer would have to stop, and archaeologists would excavate the site. That's the law. But first you'd have to prove it's really a historic site.”
“Then we'll have to work harder than ever,” Amy promised. She looked at her new friends, the Aldens. “Let's go to the dig every single day,” she said.
“Count us in,” Henry told her. “If there really is a lost village, we've got two weeks to find it.”
“I
s everybody ready for another day at the dig?” Amy asked at breakfast the next morning.
“We're all set,” Henry said, finishing a big plate of bacon and eggs.
“Benny helped me pack sandwiches and a thermos of cider,” Joe added, pointing to a picnic basket. “We can work until sundown, if we want to.”
The six children were just heading out the front door when they nearly collided with a young man dressed in jeans and denim.
“Is Mrs. Lightfeather at home?” he asked politely. “I'm Michael Running Deer.”
“You must be new on the reservation,” Amy said, staring at the stranger.
“He's not from the reservation,” Mrs. Lightfeather said, suddenly appearing in the front hall. “You didn't waste any time,” she said, handing him a batch of official-looking papers. “This will show you the exact boundaries of the reservation.”
“Thanks,” the young man said, tucking the papers under his arm. “The bulldozers will be here before we know it,” he added heading down the front walk.
“Mom, who was that?” Joe asked, concerned.
His mother sighed. “Michael Running Deer works for the real estate developer,” she said sadly. “I'm afraid we're very close to losing the forest.”
“Then let's get going,” Benny said, barreling out the door. “Maybe we can find the lost village today!”
Mrs. Lightfeather smiled. “That would be wonderful, Benny, but don't count on it.”
It was a bright, sunny day and, by mid-morning, Henry and Joe decided to take a break. They had just settled down on a log to drink some cider, when they were surprised by a young woman in a nice dress and high heels, with a video camera slung over her shoulder.
“Oh,” she said, startled. “I didn't expect to find anybody here.” She looked at the grid Henry had drawn in the soft earth, and the mounds of dirt that the children had overturned. “I guess I should introduce myself,” she said in a friendly voice. “I'm Rita Neville.”
“I'm Henry Alden and this is my friend, Joe Lightfeather,” Henry told her.
“What are they doing?” the woman asked, pointing to Jessie and Amy who were vigorously digging with their trowels.
Henry hesitated. The lost village was a secret, and he knew that Joe didn't feel like sharing it with anyone.
“It looks like a treasure hunt,” she prompted, when no one answered her.
“It's more like a scavenger hunt,” Joe said finally. “We're playing a game.”
“Well, have fun.” She took another quick look at the dig and turned to leave. “I've got to get back to work now.” Her high heels sank into the soft earth, and she nearly stumbled.
“Excuse me, but what are you working on?” Joe asked.
“I'm a television producer,” she said brightly. She patted her camera case. “I'm planning a documentary on Indian life, and I need some location shots.”
“But this isn't part of the reservation,” Henry told her.
“Oh, I know,” she said quickly. “I just felt like taking a hike. I'm staying at Morton's Motel.”
“What did you think of her?” Henry asked when Rita Neville was out of earshot.
