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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Heritage of the Sioux"


"Say, they'd have had a SNAP if we'd gone on, and let these fellows back here
in the trees close up behind us!" Andy Green exclaimed suddenly, with a
vividness of gesture that made Happy Jack try to swallow his Adam's apple. "By
gracious, it would have been a regular rabbit-drive business. They could set
in the shade and pick us off just as they darned pleased."
"Aw, is that there the cheerfullest thing you can think of to say?" Happy Jack
was sweating, with something more than desert heat.
"Why, no. The cheerfullest thing I can think of right now is that Mig, here,
don't ride with his eyes shut." He cast a hasty glance of gratitude toward the
Native Son, who flushed under the smooth brown of his cheeks while he fired at
a moving bush a hundred yards back in the grove.
For another half hour nothing was gained or lost. The Indians fired
desultorily, spatting bit& of lead here and there among the rocks but hitting
nobody. The Happy Family took a shot at every symptom of movement in the
grove, and toward the, rim-rock they sent a bullet now and then, just to
assure the watchers up there that they were not forgotten, and as a hint that
caution spelled safety.


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