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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Heritage of the Sioux"

And she must ride around that last,
sharp-pointed one, and come into the new life that was on the other side--and
what if it should be bitter? What if Ramon's love did not live beyond the wide
ring of shiny gold? She had seen it so, with other men and other maids.
No matter. She had sworn the oath that she would go. But first, there at the
old well where Ramon had taught her the Spanish love words, there where she
had listened shyly and happily to his voice that was so soft and so steeped in
love, Annie-Many-Ponies stood up with her face to the mountains and sorrow in
her eyes, and chanted again the wailing, Omaha mourning-song. And just behind
her the little black dog, that had followed close to her heels all the way,
sat upon his haunches and pointed his nose to the sky and howled.
For a long time she wailed. Then to the mountains that she loved she made the
sign of peace-and-farewell, and turned herself stoically to the keeping of her
oath. Her bundle that was so big and heavy she placed in the saddle and
fastened with the saddle-string and with the red sash that had bound it across
her chest and shoulders. Then, as her great grandmother had plodded across the
bleak plains of the Dakotas at her master's behest, Annie-Many-Ponies took the
bridle reins and led the horse out of the ruin, and started upon her plodding,
patient journey to what lay beyond the mountains.


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