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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Heritage of the Sioux"

To every woman must come sometime the
bitter awakening from her dreamworld to the real world in all its sordidness
and selfishness. Annie-Many-Ponies, standing there looking at Ramon--Ramon who
laughed at her goodness--knew now what the future that had lain behind the
mountains held in store for her. Not happiness, surely; not the wide ring of
gold that would say she was Ramon's wife. Luis was right. He had spoken the
truth, though she had believed that he lied when he said Ramon would never
marry a woman. He would love and laugh and ride away, Luis had told her. Well,
then--
"Shunka Chistala!" she called softly to the little black dog, that came
eagerly, wagging his burr-matted tail. She laid her hand on its head when the
dog jumped up to greet her. She smiled faintly while she fondled its silky,
flapping ears.
"Why you all time pat that dam-dog?" Ramon flashed out jealously. "You don't
pet yoh man what lov' yoh!"
"Dogs don't lie," said Annie-Many-Ponies coldly, and walked away. She did not
look back, she did not hurry, though she must have known that Ramon in one
bound could have stopped her with his man's strength. Her head was high, her
shoulders were straight, her eyes were so black the pupils did not show at
all, and a film of inscrutability veiled what bitter thoughts were behind
them.


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