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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Heritage of the Sioux"


As it had been with Luis so it was now with Ramon. Her utter disregard of him
held him back from touching her. He stood with wrath in his eyes and let her
go--and to hide his weakness from her strength he sent after her a sneering
laugh and words that were like a whip.
"All right--jus' for now I let you ron," he jeered. "Bimeby she's different.
Bimeby I show yoh who's boss. I make yoh cry for Ramon be good to yoh!"
Annie-Many-Ponies did not betray by so much as a glance that she beard him.
But had he seen her face be would have been startled at the look his words
brought there. He would have been startled and perhaps he would have been
warned. For never bad she carried so clearly the fighting look of her
forefathers who went out to battle. With the little black dog at her heels she
climbed a small, round-topped hill that had a single pine like a cockade
growing from the top.
For ten minutes she stood there on the top and stared away to the southeast,
whence she had come to keep her promise to Ramon. Never, it seemed to her, had
a girl been so alone. In all the world there could not be a soul so bitter.
Liar--thief--betrayer of women--and she had left the clean, steadfast
friendship of her brother Wagalexa Conka for such human vermin as Ramon
Chavez! She sat down, and with her face hidden in her shawl and her slim body
rocking back and forth in weird rhythm to her wailing, she crooned the
mourning song of the Omaha.


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