"Greetings," returned the old man, solemnly taking the offered hand. "The July moon is in the full, brother, and I have brought the Showut Poche-dakas for the yearly Mona Fiesta to the spot where our fathers worshipped since a time when no man can remember." "Thou art welcome," said Oliver again, entirely lost as to just what was expected of him. Chupurosa left the blanket which he used as a saddle. It was the signal for all to dismount, and like a troop of cavalry the Showut Poche-dakas left their horses. They tied them to fenceposts and trees out of respect for the landowner's rights in the matter of grass. "Is all in readiness?" asked the ancient chief. "Er--" Oliver paused. A hand gripped his arm. "Yes," Jessamy's voice breathed in his ear. "All is in readiness," said Oliver promptly. Jessamy then stepped forward and offered her hand to Chupurosa. "Hello, my Hummingbird!" she caroled mischievously in English. "The light of the moon takes nothing from the Señorita's loveliness," said the old man gallantly. By this time the Showut Poche-dakas had formed a semicircle before the cabin. "Let us proceed to the Mona Fiesta," said Chupurosa. "Let the son of Dan Smeed lead the way." Over this strange new designation Oliver was given no time for thought; for instantly Jessamy laid a firm grip above his elbow and led him to the pasture gate. The Showut Poche-dakas followed at the heels of Jessamy's mare. "Don't worry," the girl whispered into Oliver's ear. "Nothing much will be required of you. Just try to appear as if you know all about it, and had attended to the preliminaries yourself." "Yes, yes," said Oliver dazedly, his mind now in a whirl. She led him across the pasture in the direction from which she had ridden so unexpectedly to the cabin. They reached a little _arroyo_, and down it they turned to the creekbed. They crossed the watercourse and turned down it. Presently they entered a cluster of pines and spruce trees, which was close to what Oliver called The Four Pools. In succession, four deep depressions in the bedrock of the creekbed were ranged, and each held clear, cool water, fed by an undiscovered spring, though the creek proper was now entirely dry. In the bedrock about these pools Oliver had previously noted several round holes the size of a half-bushel measure. These were _morteros_, he knew--the mortars in which the California Indians pound acorns in the making of the dish _bellota_. He had often speculated on the probable antiquity of these _morteros_, and had dreamed of early-day scenes enacted there and about them.