And the last they heard as they put the ranch
behind them was the wailing chant of Annie-Many-Ponies and the prodigious,
long-drawn howling of the little black dog.
Annie-Many-Ponies, hearing the beat of hoofs ceased her chanting and looked
out in time to see the girls just disappearing over the low brow of the hill.
She stood for a moment and stared after them with frowning brows. Rosemary she
did not like and never would like, after their hidden feud of months over such
small matters as the cat and the dog, and unswept floors, and the like. A
mountain of unwashed dishes stood between these two, as it were, and forbade
anything like friendship.
But the parting that was at hand had brushed aside her jealousy of Jean as
leading woman. intuitively she knew that with any encouragement Jean would
have been her friend. Oddly, she remembered now that Jean had been the first
to ask for her when she came to the ranch. So, although Jean would never know,
Annie-Many-Ponies raised her hand and gave the peace-and-farewell sign of the
plains Indians.
The way was open now, and she must go. She had sworn that she would meet Ramon
--but oh, the heart of her was heavier than the bundle which she bound with
her bright red sash and lifted to her shoulders with the sash drawn across her
chest and shoulders.
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