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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Heritage of the Sioux"

He spoke to luck about it, and luck
levelled his field glasses and glimpsed a skulking form up there.
"Hunt yourselves some shelter, boys!" he cried in the sharp tone of warning.
"We'll make sure who's ahead before we go any farther."
They ducked behind rocks or trees and piled off their horses in a burry. And a
scattered fusillade from the rim-rock ahead of them proved how urgent was
their need.
For the first fifteen minutes or so they thought that they were fighting Ramon
and his party, and their keenest emotions were built largely of resentment,
which showed in the booming voice of Big Medicine when he said grimly:
"Well, I'd jest about as soon pack Ramon in ,dead, as lead 'im in alive 'n'
kickin', by cripes! Which is him, d'yuh reckon?"
From behind a rock shield luck was studying the ledge. "They're Injuns--or
there are Injuns in the bunch, at least," he told them after a moment. "See
that sharp point sticking up straight ahead? I saw an Injun peeking around the
edge--to the south. You watch for him, Andy, and let him have it where he
lives next time be sticks his head out." He swung the glasses slowly, taking
every inch of the rim in his field of vision.


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