"Except," Sidney observed, "none of them look like those kind of Indians. And those arrows they shot." He stared at the two sticking in the U-Haul-It. "Those aren't arrows, George--they're atlatl lances!" "Yes," said George. Sidney breathed, "They aren't holding bows--they've got atlatls!" "No modern Indian of any kind," said George, "uses an atlatl." "Most of them wouldn't even know what it was," Sidney agreed. "They haven't been used for hundreds of years; the only place you see them is in museums." An atlatl was the weapon which had replaced the stone axe in the stone age. It was a throwing stick consisting of two parts. One was the lance, a feathered shaft up to four feet long, tipped with a stone point. The two-foot flat stick that went with this had a slot in one end and two rawhide finger loops. The lance end was fitted in the slot to be thrown. The stick was an extension of the human arm to give the lance greater force. Some atlatls had small charm stones attached to them to give them extra weight and magic. Charm stones could be seen fastened to a few of the atlatls being held by the Indians now standing like bronze statues regarding them. George whispered, "What do you make of it?" "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?" In a considered, gauging tone George replied, "They're real." "Real?" cried Sidney. "What do you mean, real?" "Real in a way. I mean, Sidney, these--I sound crazy to myself saying it--but I think these are--well, Sid, maybe they're actual prehistoric Indians." "Huh?" "Well, let's put it this way: We asked for them and we got them."