"It isn't any joke," replied Sidney. He gazed tensely at the Indians.
"That's all I'm sure of."
"Have you noticed their breechclouts?"
Sidney stared again. "They aren't modern clouts. George, they're right
out of Hohokam culture!"
"They aren't made of cloth, either. That's plaited yucca fibre."
"Just like we've dug up many times. Only here ..." George faltered.
"It's being worn by--by I don't know what."
"Look at their ornaments."
Necklaces, made of pierced colored stones, hung about many of the brown
necks. Shell bracelets were to be seen, and here and there a carved
piece of turquoise appeared.
"Look at the Indian over there," George urged.
Sidney looked to the side where George indicated, and croaked, "It's a
girl!"
It was a girl indeed. She stood straight and magnificent in body
completely bare except for the brief apron at her loins. Between her
beautiful full copper breasts there hung a gleaming piece of turquoise
carved in the shape of a coyote.
At her side stood a tall young Indian with a handsome face set with
great pride. On her other side was a wizened little old fellow with a
wrinkled face and ribs corrugated like a saguaro.
Sidney turned back and demanded, "What do you make of this? Are we
seeing things?" Hopefully, he suggested, "A mirage or sort of a mutual
hallucination?"