The Kachina Doll Mystery

by Carolyn G. Keene

  Heather ran a hand over the mare’s legs, examining them a second time. “I don’t see anything,” she answered. “Her knees are skinned and she’s probably pretty badly bruised, but she’ll make it back to the ranch all right. We’ll just have to go slow. If she starts to limp, you can always ride double with someone.”

  “You say a rattlesnake came down the cliff after you?” Chuck asked, breaking into their examination.

  Nancy nodded. “I could hear it rattling as it came.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Chuck said. “Rattlesnakes are shy of people. Are you sure it wasn’t alongside the trail?”

  “You’d already ridden by,” Nancy reminded him. “If it had been along the trail, it would have been disturbed and rattling long before I got there, wouldn’t it?”

  “Let me have the flashlight,” Chuck ordered. “And somebody hold my horse. I’ll go up and see if I can find the snake.”

  “You be careful, Chuck,” Heather warned, surrendering the flashlight to her brother.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Nancy?” George asked, moving to Nancy’s side now that Heather had finished examining the horse. “You weren’t hurt at all?”

  “Just frightened half to death,” Nancy assured her. “It all happened so fast. ”

  The others gathered around making suggestions about the snake and telling tales of their own brushes with rattlers. It was several minutes before Chuck slid back down the side of the wash.

  “What did you find?” Nancy asked.

  “Your rattlesnake,” Chuck answered, holding out his hand so that she could see the odd-looking thing that lay in his palm. It rattled slightly from the movement, and Dancer snorted and pulled back against Nancy’s steady hold on her reins.

  “What is it?” Bess squeaked, stepping back just as the horse had.

  “It’s the rattle from a big snake,” Chuck explained. “Some people cut them off dead rattlers and make them into tourist souvenirs. I found it lying on the trail.”

  “But how...?” Heather began, then turned to face Nancy, her eyes wide with fright. “Did you say it came down the cliff after you?” she asked.

  Nancy nodded.

  “Then someone must have thrown it from up there.” Chuck uttered the words that had already begun to fill Nancy’s mind with pictures of the possible consequences.

  Heather gasped. “Nancy could have been injured!” she cried out. “If Dancer had lost her footing in that rock slide coming down, she could have been seriously hurt!”

  “Well, nothing like that happened,” Nancy said soothingly. “I’m fine and Dancer’s all right, so I think we should just put this behind us and get back to the ranch.” She did not want to mention their unknown enemy to Heather’s friends, but she asked herself the same question Bess, George, and the McGuires did. Was this another deliberate attempt to get her off the Kachina Doll case?

  The young people remounted and rode their horses along the wash. Once they reached the resort, Nancy, Bess, and George escorted the guests to their cars, but their good nights were subdued and everyone left rather quickly. Not knowing what else to do, the girls settled in the lobby, waiting for Chuck and Heather to come up from the stable.

  “You think it was deliberate, don’t you, Nancy?” George asked breaking the silence.

  Nancy sighed. “Someone had to drop that rattlesnake down the cliff, and I was the only one riding by at the time.”

  “I agree,” George said. “And it wasn’t the Kachina spirit, either.”

  Nancy chuckled, “I’m sure it wasn’t. As a matter of fact, the spirit seemed almost friendly last night. Whoever threw that rattler wasn’t friendly at all.”

  “That’s for sure,” Heather agreed from the archway that led to the hall of the Kachina paintings. “We were just talking about that.”

  “And what did you decide?” Nancy asked as Chuck joined his sister in the doorway.

  “That you’d better stop your investigation,” Chuck replied.

  “What?” Nancy looked from one to the other. “But I’ve just begun.”

  “That awful letter you showed us was bad enough,” Heather said. “And the accident and finding the scorpion in your suitcase and the toppled cactus. But this.... If it means things like this are going to happen, we can’t let you go on, Nancy. When I wrote to you and asked you to come here, I had no idea that you would be in any kind of danger.”

  Chuck nodded. “The letter and the scorpion, maybe, were warnings. But you could have been killed tonight! That’s more than a warning.”

  “I’ll just have to be more careful in the future,” Nancy replied firmly. “If someone is trying this hard to frighten me away, that must mean I’m making real progress, don’t you think?”

  Heather and Chuck seemed unconvinced, but after cups of thick, sweet, hot chocolate and cream prepared by Maria, they all went to their rooms without further discussion. A long, relaxing bath gave Nancy plenty of time to think, but she still hadn’t a clue about the person who’d thrown the rattler down on her. She slipped between the cool sheets and pulled the bright quilt over her shoulders with a sigh.

  She’d been asleep for several hours when the strange sounds woke her again. This time, she lay still and listened, identifying them as chanting, though she couldn’t distinguish any words. After several minutes, she got up and padded to the door, quite sure what she’d find on the other side.

  The Kachina she saw was much closer this time, and the moment she opened the door, it seemed to beckon to her, then moved on along the hall. Nancy followed without hesitation. As before, it floated along the hall till it reached the same painting. Then, with what appeared to be a signal of some sort, it disappeared into the painted wall, leaving Nancy alone in the hall.

  Nancy stared at the painting for a long time, studying each individual section. It wasn’t till her eyes reached the left hand that she realized something. The Kachina was holding what looked very much like a pencil or pen—something no Indian Kachina could possibly be concerned with!

  Frowning, she went back to her room to get the powerful flashlight and the magnifying glass she kept there. Since Jake Harris had been a friend and admirer of the Indians and their Kachinas, she was sure that he wouldn’t have put the writing instrument into the picture by mistake—which had to mean that it was a clue. But to what?

  Using the flashlight and magnifying glass, she began to make an even closer inspection of the painting. She studied each individual brick, tracing it carefully, trying not to let her eye be confused by the complex design that Jake Harris had painted so long ago.

  Eventually, she found what she was looking for. The pencil or pen was pointing to a brick that wasn’t mortared into place like the others. Nancy slipped a fingernail into the tiny seam, trying to work the brick loose. It didn’t move. She went back to her room for a metal nail file and used it to pry at the seam. The brick squealed and grated in protest as she dragged it out of the patterned design of the Kachina.

  “Nancy?” George’s head appeared around the door of the room she shared with Bess. “What in the world is going on?”

  “I saw the Kachina again and it seemed to want me to investigate this painting, so...” Nancy lowered the brick to the floor. “Now we’ll see what it wanted me to find!”

  9

  A Wonderful Discovery

  Bess and George quickly joined Nancy as she directed the beam of the flashlight into the hole left by the brick she’d removed. The light reflected dully off what appeared to be an old, tin box.

  “Have you found the Kachina’s treasure?” Bess asked breathlessly. “Do you suppose the box could be full of gold?”

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy said as she pulled the tin box out. “It isn’t heavy enough.”

  “Maybe it has the treasure map in it,” George suggested.

  Nancy blew the dust off the box and lifted the lid with trembling fingers, then jumped nervously as another door opened down the hall and Heather emerged.
“What’s going on?” their hostess inquired as she approached the three girls.

  “Nancy has found something,” George explained. “The Kachina led her to it.”

  “What is it?” Heather asked, joining them in front of the painting.

  “It looks like a diary or journal,” Nancy answered, lifting an old, leather-bound book out of the tin box. She opened it with care.

  “That’s all that was in it?” Bess asked, taking the box and peering into it.

  “It’s Jake Harris’s journal!” Nancy announced after she’d scanned the first page.

  “Maybe he wrote something in it that will tell us where the treasure is hidden,” Bess said hopefully.

  “If there really is a treasure,” Heather reminded her. “No one has ever been sure about that, you know.”

  “Look and see if there’s a map,” George urged.

  Nancy leafed through the pages carefully. There were not a great many entries, and once the spidery script ended, there was nothing else. “No map,” she told them. “Guess I’ll have to read it and see if he’s put a clue in his entries.”

  Bess, George and Heather peered over her shoulders at the open book. “I hope you can read it,” Heather said. “His writing is so shaky and faded.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Nancy assured them. “Now, let’s repair the painting and see if we can all get some sleep.”

  Heather shook her head. “To think that’s been hidden there all these years. I wonder why no one else has ever found it.”

  “No one else is as good a detective,” George stated firmly.

  “I just followed the Kachina’s guidance,” Nancy told them. “It gave me the clue.”

  “And you investigated it and found the journal,” Heather finished.

  Chuck, awakened by their voices in the hall, came out to join them. He inspected the journal and listened as Nancy recounted how it had been found, then helped by replacing the brick she had pried out of the wall. That done, they all returned to their rooms. Nancy took the journal with her.

  Though she was tired, she opened it at once. Even with the good light from her bedside lamp, she had difficulty reading the script. Yet she was immediately intrigued.

  Deer Slayer was here today. He brought me a haunch of venison to trade for some canned goods, and we talked long about Winslow and his offer for the Kachinas. Deer Slayer doesn’t want to sell them, but the year has been a bad one and a few of his tribe are beginning to talk of all the food Winslow’s money would buy.

  Deer Slayer and some of the other tribe elders have asked me to speak for them in the bargaining with Winslow and I’ve agreed, though I don’t think they should sell the figures. The ones they’ve let me use to copy for my wall paintings are so beautiful, it would be a tragedy to let them go.

  Nancy turned the page as that entry ended. The next day’s writing dealt with ranch matters, a missing heifer, the possibility of sending a few calves to the reservation for Deer Slayer’s people. Later, there was another entry about Jake’s meeting with Mr. Winslow and their discussions about the Kachinas.

  The man is offering far too little for the Indians’ treasure. He would cheat them of the very food for their children. I’ve advised the chiefs and elders not to even consider selling the Kachinas to him. If they must part with them, I’m sure I can contact a reputable trader who will at least make it worth their while.

  Nancy yawned. Her eyes were burning from the strain of deciphering the writing. The next entry was more about his painting and the fact that Winslow had seen the pictures on the wall of the hall and acted very strangely.

  It seems that Mr. Winslow believes that the Kachinas are here. He has taken to riding out here at odd times and even asked to be allowed to spend the night. I think he hopes to become my friend to use me against the Hopi chiefs in his trading schemes.

  Nancy stopped for a moment and stared out at the shadows of the palo verde tree. Had something moved there? she asked herself. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as though someone was watching her, yet she could see nothing.

  Fully awakened by the feeling, she continued her reading. Jake seemed to be growing more and more concerned about his Indian friends and about his own safety. He described the way he’d pried the brick loose and cleared the box-sized space behind it.

  I’ll paint a Kachina to guard my hiding place, and to guide my friends to this book, should something happen to me. Perhaps it is just the fancy of an old man too long alone, but I see things in the night—fearsome torches on the distant hills and shadowy figures nearer to my house. I sleep on the second floor now, with the stairs barricaded. I’ll be glad when Deer Slayer comes to visit again and I can tell him what I’ve learned about this man Winslow. Once he tells Winslow that the Kachinas are not for sale, perhaps my ordeal will end.

  Nancy turned the page and stopped, startled to find that there was nothing written on the next page or the one after it. In fact, a quick flipping through of the remaining pages told her that there were no more entries at all. A closer inspection of the book, however, revealed the rough edges of three or four pages that had been torn from the journal.

  Frowning, she closed the old book and carefully placed it in the drawer of the nightstand, then turned off the lamp. Moonlight glowed beyond her window, and she lay watching the feathery shadows of the palo verde as it stirred in the night wind.

  The entries in the journal certainly seemed to prove that Maria’s theory of the old man’s death was the correct one. Jake Harris had been a friend of the Hopi, not an enemy, and there appeared to be no reason for them to have hounded or frightened him to death.

  And what about the stories of hidden treasure? she asked herself. Could it be the Kachinas?

  That seemed more likely, though Jake hadn’t mentioned seeing any except the ones he’d used as models for his wall paintings. Nancy drifted off to sleep, still not sure what clues she’d gained from her late-night discovery.

  Her dreams were haunted by frail, old men and floating, teasing, beckoning Kachinas. The chanting seemed to surround her, and the Kachinas circled and reached out to her in pleading ways. It was almost a relief when a great pounding on her bedroom door brought her back to reality.

  “Fire!” Chuck shouted. “We’ve got a fire in one of the cottages!”

  10

  A Raging Fire

  Nancy pulled on her jeans and a sweater right over her pajamas, slipped her feet into her shoes, and raced out to the hall. George and Bess emerged right behind her.

  “Wh-what happened?” Bess asked in a shaky voice.

  “Let’s find out,” Nancy replied, and the three of them quickly followed the cold draft of night air to the open rear door.

  Once outside, the situation became obvious to them instantly. “It’s the cottage farthest from the house!” George cried.

  The little building was blazing like a torch in the darkness. Chuck and Ward were already spraying water from the two garden hoses on the inferno, but seemed to be making no progress at all.

  Nancy looked around quickly. “Did anyone call the fire department?” she shouted above the roaring of the flames.

  “I did,” Heather called as she and Maria came racing from the direction of the stable. They were carrying what looked like burlap feed sacks. “They’ll be along as soon as they can, but in the meantime, we’d better wet these sacks and try to keep the fire from spreading.”

  Nancy nodded and they all helped Heather dip the feed sacks in the swimming pool. Once they were soaked, each took a couple and began chasing the sparks that were already floating away from the blaze.

  The men, having given up on the cottage, were now using the hoses to wet the walls and roofs of the nearby buildings to keep the fire from spreading. This left it up to the girls and Maria to put out the small blazes that seemed to start everywhere in the grass, the hedge, even in the clumps of desert wild flowers and bushes nearby.

  It was like a nightmare. While one spark was being extingu
ished, three more were igniting close-by areas. The smoke rolled over them and, as it reached the stable, set the horses to whinnying in terror. When the crashing of hooves became too loud, Heather left the others and went to open the stall doors, allowing the terrified animals to get out into the corrals if they wanted to.

  By the time the small, rural fire truck arrived, Nancy and the others were smoke-stained and weary. They were all glad to stand back and watch as the firemen tamed and finally put out the roaring blaze. Only then did they have a chance to relax and sit down on the damp chairs near the pool.

  “How did it get started, Chuck?” one of the firemen asked, and for the first time, Nancy recognized him as Floyd, the young man she’d ridden to the barbecue with earlier that evening.

  Chuck shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he answered. “I was sound asleep when it started. Heather woke me up.”

  All eyes turned toward the redhead. “I guess it was the smell of smoke that woke me,” she said. “My room faces this way and when I opened my eyes, I could see the flames. It scared me half to death. I thought the whole resort was on fire.”

  Floyd looked around. In the pearly beginning of daylight, the charred places on the lawn and bushes were very clear. “You’re just lucky that it wasn’t,” he said. “If you hadn’t come out in time, the place could have gone.”

  “Anybody out here ready for sandwiches and coffee?” Maria called from the doorway. When there was a chorus of assent, she and Ngyun emerged with two big trays.

  “When in the world did you do this?” Heather asked in amazement.

  “As soon as the firemen arrived,” Maria answered. “I knew you wouldn’t need me any more and I already had Ngyun at work making sandwiches in the kitchen.”

  Everyone began to eat with enthusiasm, and Ngyun’s shy smile soon appeared as everyone commented on his handiwork. The ham, cheese, and beef sandwiches did taste delicious and helped to lift their spirits in the cold aftermath of the battle with the fire.