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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Heritage of the Sioux"

She brushed her hand
across her eyes and looked down. There, surrounding the cabin, were the Happy
Family, and old Applehead whom she hated because he hated her. And in their
midst stood Bill Holmes and Luis, and the setting sun shone on something
bright--like great silver rings--that clasped their wrists.
Coming up the hill toward her was Wagalexa Conka, climbing swiftly, looking up
as he came. Annie-Many-Ponies sprang to her feet, startling the little black
dog that gave a yelp of astonishment. Came he in peace? She hesitated,
watching him unwinkingly. Something swelled in her chest until she could
hardly breathe, and then fluttered there like a prisoned bird. "COLA!" she
gasped, just under her breath, and raised her hand in the outward, sweeping
gesture that spoke peace.
"You theenk to fix trap, you--!"
She whirled and faced Ramon, whose eyes blazed bate and murder and whose
tongue spoke the foulness of his soul. He flung out his arm fiercely and
thrust her aside. "Me, I kill that dam--"
He did not say any more, and the six-shooter he had levelled at Luck dropped
from his nerveless hand like a coiled adder, Annie-Many-Ponies had struck.
Like an avenging spirit she pulled the knife free and held it high over her
head, facing Luck who stared up at her from below.


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