Bower, 1874-1940 - The heritage of the Sioux

So Weary, leaving Lite up there grinning sheepishly over the compliment, rode down because he was told to do so by the man in command. " You seem to forget that Lite's got a wife on his hands," he reproved as he went.

" Lite's a-comin' right now," Applehead retorted, peering at the ridge a couple of hundred yards distant. " Git back down the draw 's fur's yuh kin b'fore yuh take out into the open agin. I'll wait a minute 'n' see —"

" ~Ping-ng-ng! " a bullet, striking a rock on the 231

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edge of the draw fifty feet short of the mark, glanced and went humming over the hot waste.

" Well, now, that shows they got a lookout up high, 't seen me watchin' that way. But it's hard' t' git the range shootin' down, like that," Apple-head remarked, pulling his horse behind a higher part of the bank.

Close beside him Lite's rifle spoke, its little steel-shod message flying straight as a homing honeybee for the spitting flash he had glimpsed up there among the rocks. Whether he did any damage or not, a dozen rifles answered venomously and flicked up tiny spurts of sand in the close neighborhood of the four.

" If they keep on trying," Lite commented drily, " they might make a killing, soon as they learn how to shoot straight."

" 'S jest like them dang Injuns! " Applehead grumbled, shooing the three before him down the draw. " Four t' our one — it takes jest about that big a majority 'fore they feel comf'table about buildin' up a fight. Lead yore bosses down till we're outa easy shootin' distance, boys, 'n' then we'll head out f er where Luck ought t' be. If they 232

fixed a trap fer us, they've fixed another fer him, chances is, V the sooner us fellers git together the better show we'll all of us have. You kin see, the fway they worked it to split the bunch, that they ain't so dang anxious t' tie into us when we're t'gether—V that's why we can't git t' Luck a dang bit too soon, now I'm tellin' yuh! "

Weary and Pink were finding things to say, also, but old Applehead went on with his monologue just as though they were listening. Lite showed a disposition to stop and take issue with the shooters, who kept up a spiteful firing from the ridge. But Applehead stopped him as he was leveling his rifle.

" If yuh shoot," he pointed out, " they'll know jest where we air and how fast we're gittin' outa here. If yuh don't, unless their lookout kin see us movin' out, they got t' do a heap uh guessin' in the next few minutes. They only got one chancet in three uh guessin' right, 'cause we might be camped in one spot, 'n' then agin we might be crawlin' up closer, fer all they kin tell."

If they were guessing, they must have guessed right; for presently the four heard faint yells from behind them, and Applehead crawled up the bank 233

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to where he could look out across the level. What he saw made him slide hastily to the bottom again.

" They've dumb down and straddled their ponies," he announced grimly. " An' about a dozen is comin' down this way, keepin' under cover all they kin. I calculate mebby we better crawl our hosses 'n' do some ridin' ourselves, boys." And he added grimly, " They ain't in good shootin' distance yit, V they dassent show theirselves neither. We'll keep in this draw long as we kin. They're bound t' come careful till they git us located."

The footing was none the best, but the horses they rode had been running over untracked mesa-land since they were bandy-legged colts. They loped along easily, picking automatically the safest places whereon to set their feet, and leaving their riders free to attend to other important matters — which proved their true value as horses that knew their business.

Soon the draw shallowed until they found themselves out in the open, with the square-topped mountain five miles or so ahead and a little to the left; a high, untraversable sandstone ledge to their right, 234

"NOW, DANG IT, RIDE!"

and what looked like plain sailing straight ahead past the mountain.

Applehead twisted his body in the saddle and gave a grunt. " Throw some lead back at them hombres, Lite," he snapped. " And make a killin* if yuh kin. It'll make 'em mad, but it'll hold 'em back fer a spell."

Lite, the crack rifle-shot of Luck's company and the man who had taught Jean Douglas to shoot with such wonderful precision, wheeled his horse short around and pulled him to a stand, lined up his rifle sights and crooked his finger on the trigger. And away back there among the Indians a pony reared, and then pitched forward.

" I sure do hate to shoot down a horse," Lite explained shamefacedly, " but I never did kill a man —"

" We-ell, I calc'late mebby yuh will, 'fore you're let out from this yere meetin'," Applehead prophesied drily. " Now, dang it, ride ! "

CHAPTER XVI

ANNIE-MANT-PONIES \TAIT9

IN the magic light of many unnamable soft shades which the sun leaves in New Mexico as a love token for his dark mistress night, Annie-Many-Ponies sat with her back against a high, flat rock at the place where Ramon had said she must wait for him, and stared somber-eyed at what she could see of the new land that had held her future behind the Sandias; waiting for Ramon; and she wondered if Wagalexa Conka had come home from his picture-making in Bear Canon and was angry because she had gone; and shrank from the thought, and tried to picture what life with Ramon would be like, and whether his love would last beyond the wide ring of shiny gold that was to make her a wife.

At her feet the little black dog lay licking his sore paws that had padded patiently after her all day. Beside the rock the black horse stood nib-236

ANNIE-MANY-PONIES WAITS

Wing at some weeds awkwardly, because of the Spanish bit in his mouth. The horse was hungry, and the little black dog was hungry; Aimie-Many-Ponies was hungry also, but she did not feel her hunger so much, because of the heaviness that was in her heart.

When Ramon came he would bring food, or he would tell her where she might buy. The horse, too, would be fed — when Eamon came. And he would take her to the priest who was his friend, and together they would kneel before the priest. But first, if Eamon would wait, she wanted to confess her sins, so that she need not go into the new life bearing the sins of the old. The priest could pray away the ache that was in her heart; and then, with her heart light as air, she would be married with Ramon. It was long since she had confessed — not since the priest came to the agency when she was there, before she ran away to work in pictures for Wagalexa Conka.

Before her the glow deepened and darkened. A

rabbit hopped out of a thick clump of stunted

bushes, sniffed the air that blew the wrong way to

warn him, and began feeding. Shunka Chistala

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gathered his soft paws under him, scratched softly for a firm foothold in the ground, and when the rabbit, his back turned and the evening wind blowing full in his face, fed unsuspectingly upon some young bark that he liked, the little black dog launched himself suddenly across Jhe space that divided them. There was a squeak and a thin, whimpering crying — and the little black dog, at least, was sure of his supper.

Annie-Many-Ponies, roused from her brooding, shivered a little when the rabbit cried. She started forward to save it — she who had taught the little black dog to hunt gophers and prairie dogs! — and when she was too late she scolded the dog in the language of the Sioux. She tore the rabbit away from him while he eyed her reproachfully; but when she saw that it was quite dead she flung the warm body back to him and went and sat down again with her back to the rock.

A train whistled for the little station of Ber-nalillo, and soon she saw its headlight paint the squat houses that had before been hidden behind the creeping dusk. Ramon was late in coming — and for one breath she caught herself hoping that 238