the heritage of the sioux-第4部分

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good　work　for　Luck。



Annie…Many…Ponies　had　worked　in　pictures　since　she　was　fifteen　and　did　only

〃atmosphere　stuff〃　in　the　Indian　camps　of　Luck's　arranging。　She　was　wise　in

the　ways　of　picture　jealousies。　Already　she　was　jealous　of　this　slim　woman

with　the　dark　hair　and　eyes　and　the　slow　smile　that　always　caught　one's

attention　and　held　it。　She　waited。　She　wanted　Wagalexa　Conka　to　call　her　in

that　kindly；　imperious　voice　of　histhe　voice　of　the　master。　This　leading

woman　would　see；　then；　that　here　was　a　girl　more　beautiful　for　whom　Luck

Lindsay　felt　the　affection　of　family　ties。



She　waited；　flattened　against　the　wall；　listening　to　every　word　that　was

spoken　in　that　buzzing　group。　She　saw　the　last　bundle　taken　from　the　machine；

and　she　saw　Luck's　head　and　shoulders　disappear　within　the　tonneau；　making

sure　that　it　was　the　last　bundle　and　that　nothing　had　been　overlooked。　She　saw

the　driver　climb　in；　slam　the　fore…door　shut　after　him　and　bend　above　the

starter。　She　saw　the　machine　slide　out　of　the　group　and　away　in　a　wide　circle

to　regain　the　trail。　She　saw　the　group　break　and　start　off　in　various

directions　as　duty　or　a　passing　interest　led。　But　Wagalexa　Conka　never　once

seemed　to　remember　that　she　was　not　there。　Never　once　did　he　speak　her　name。



Instead；　just　as　Rosemary　was　leading　the　way　into　the　house；　this　slim　young

woman　they　called　Jean　glanced　around　inquiringly。　〃I　thought　you　had　a　squaw

working　for　you；〃　she　said　in　that　soft；　humorous　voice　of　hers。　〃The　one　who

did　the　Indian　girl　in　The　Phantom　Herd。　Isn't　she　here　any　more？〃



〃Oh；　yes！〃　Luck　stopped　with　one　foot　on　the　porch。　〃Sure！　Where　is　Annie？

Anybody　know？〃



〃She　was　around　here　just　before　you　came；〃　said　Rosemary　carelessly。　〃I　don't

know　where　she　went。〃



〃Hid　out；　I　reckon；〃　Luck　commented。　〃Injuns　are　heap　shy　of　meeting

strangers。　She'll　show　up　after　a　little。〃



Annie…Many…Ponies　stooped　and　slid　safely　past　the　window　that　might　betray

her；　and　then　slipped　away　behind　the　house。　She　waited；　and　she　listened；　for

though　the　adobe　walls　were　thick；　there　were　open　windows　and　her　hearing　was

keen。　Within　was　animated　babel　and　much　laughter。　But　not　once　again　did

Annie…Many…Ponies　hear　her　name　spoken。　Not　once　again　did　Wagalexa　Conka

remember　her。　Save　when　she；　that　slim　woman　who　bad　come　to　play　his　leads；

asked　to　see　her；　she　had　been　wholly　forgotten。　Even　then　she　had　been　named

a　squaw。　It　was　as　though　they　had　been　speaking　of　a　horse。　They　did　not

count　her　worthy　of　a　place　in　their　company；　they　did　not　miss　her　voice　and

her　smile。



〃Hid　out；〃　Wagalexa　Conka　had　said。　Well；　she　would　hide　out；　thenshe；　the

daughter　of　a　chief　of　the　Sioux；　she；　whom　Wagalexa　Conka　had　been　glad　to

have　in　his　picture　when　he　was　poor　and　had　no　money　to　pay　white　leading

women。　But　now　he　had　much　money；　now　he　could　come　in　a　big　automobile；　with

a　slim；　white　leading　woman　and　a　camera　man　and　scenic　artist　and　much　money

in　his　pocket；　and　sheshe　was　just　a　squaw　who　had　hid　out；　and　who　would

show　up　after　a　while　and　be　grateful　if　he　took　her　by　the　hand　and　said；

〃How！〃



With　so　many　persons　moving　eagerly　here　and　there；　none　but　an　Indian　could

have　slipped　away　from　that　house　and　from　the　ranch　without　being　seen。　But

though　the　place　was　bald　and　open　to　the　four　winds　save　for　a　few　detached

outbuildings；　Annie…Many…Ponies　went　away　upon　the　mesa　and　no　one　saw　her　go。



She　did　not　dare　go　to　the　corral　for　her　horse。　The　corral　was　in　plain　sight

of　the　house；　and　the　eyes　of　Wagalexa　Conka　were　keen　as　the　eye　of　the

Sioux；　his　foster　brothers。　He　would　see　her　there。　He　would　call：　〃Annie；

come　here！〃　and　she　would　go；　and　would　stand　submissive　before　him；　and　would

be　glad　that　he　noticed　her；　for　she　was　born　of　the　tribe　where　women　obey

their　masters；　and　the　heritage　of　centuries　may　not　be　lightly　lain　aside

like　an　outgrown　garment。　She　felt　that　this　was　so；　that　although　her　heart

might　burn　with　resentment　because　he　had　forgotten　and　must　be　reminded　by　a

strange　white　woman　that　the　〃squaw〃　was　not　present；　still；　if　he　called　her

she　must　go；　because　Wagalexa　Conka　was　master　there　and　the　master　must　be

obeyed。



Down　the　dry　wash　where　Applehead　had　hunted　for　baling　wire　she　went　swiftly；

with　the　straight…backed；　free　stride　of　the　plainswoman　who　knows　not　the

muscle…bondage　of　boned　girdle。　In　moccasins　she　walked；　for　a　certain　pride

of　race；　a　certain　sense　of　the　picture…value　of　beaded　buckskin　and　bright

cloth；　held　her　fast　to　the　gala　dress　of　her　people；　modified　and　touched

here　and　there　with　the　gay　ornaments　of　civilization。　So　much　had　her　work　in

the　silent　drama　taught　her。　Bareheaded；　her　hair　in　two　glossy　braids　each

tied　with　a　big　red　bow；　she　strode　on　and　on　in　the　clear　sunlight　of　spring。



Not　until　she　was　more　than　two　miles　from　the　ranch　did　she　show　herself　upon

one　of　the　numberless　small　ridges　which；　blended　together　in　the　disance；

give　that　deceptive　look　of　flatness　to　the　mesa。　Even　two　miles　away；　in　that

clear　air　that　dwarfs　distance　so　amazingly；　Wagalexa　Conka　might　recognize

her　if　he　looked　at　her　with　sufficient　attention。　But　Wagalexa　Conka；　she

told　herself　with　a　flash　of　her　black　eyes；　would　not　look。　Wagalexa　Conka

was　too　busy　looking　at　that　slim　woman　he　had　brought　with　him。



That　ridge　she　crossed；　and　two　others。　On　the　last　one　she　stopped　and　stood；

straight　and　still；　and　stared　away　towards　the　mountains；　shading　her　eyes

with　one　spread　palm。　On　a　distant　slope　a　small　herd　of　cattle　fed；　scattered

and　at　peace。　Nearer；　a　great　hawk　circled　slowly　on　widespread　wings；　his

neck　craned　downward　as　if　he　were　watching　his　own　shadow　move　ghostlike　over

the　grass。　Annie…Many…Ponies；　turning　her　eyes　disappointedly　from　the　empty

mesa；　envied　the　hawk　his　swift…winged　freedom。



When　she　looked　again　toward　the　far　slopes　next　the　mountains；　a　black　speck

rolled　into　view；　the　nucleus　of　a　little　dust　cloud。　Her　face　brightened　a

little；　she　turned　abruptly　and　sought　easy　footing　down　that　ridge；　and

climbed　hurriedly　the　longer　rise　beyond。　Once　or　twice；　when　she　was　on　high

ground；　she　glanced　behind　her　uneasily；　as　does　one　whose　mind　holds　a

certain　consciousness　of　wrongdoing。　She　did　not　pause；　even　then；　but　hurried

on　toward　the　dust　cloud。　



On　the　rim　of　a　shallow；　saucer…like　basin　that　lay　cunningly　concealed　until

one　stood　upon　the　very　edge　of　it；　Annie…Many…Ponies　stopped　again　and　stood

looking　out　from　under　her　spread　palm。　Presently　the　dust　cloud　moved　over

the　crest　of　a　ridge；　and　now　that　it　was　so　much　closer　she　saw　clearly　the

horseman　loping　abreast　of　the　dust。　Annie…Many…Ponies　stood　for　another

moment　watching；　with　that　inscrutable　half　smile　on　her　lips。　She　untied　the

cerise　silk　kerchief　which　she　wore　knotted　loosely　around　her　slim　neck；

waited　until　the　horseman　showed　plainly　in　the　distance　and　then；　raising　her

right　hand　high　above　her　head；　waved　the　scarf　three　times　in　slow；　sweeping

half　circles　from　right　to　left。　She　waited；　her　eyes　fixed　expectantly　upon

the　horseman。　Like　a　startled　rabbit　he　darted　to　the　left；　pulled　in　his

horse；　turned　and　rode　for　three　or　four　jumps　sharply　to　the　right；　stopped

short　for　ten　seconds　and　then　came　straight　on；　spurring　his　horse　to　a

swifter　pace。



Annie…Many…Ponies　smiled　and　went　down　into　the　shallow　basin　and　seated

herself　upon　the　wide；　adobe　curbing　of　an　old　well　that　marked；　with　the

nearby　ruins　of　an　adobe　house；　the　site；　of　an　old　habitation　of　tragic

history。　She　waited　with　the　absolute　patience　of　her　race　for　the　horseman

had　yet　a　good　two　miles　to　cover。　While　she　waited　she　smiled　dreamily　to

herself　and　with　dainty　little　pats　and　pulls　she　widened　the　flaring　red　bows

on　her　hair　and　retied　the　cerise　scarf　in　its　picturesque；　loose　knot　about

her　throat。　As　a　final　tribute　to　that　feminine　instinct　which　knows　no　race

she　drew　from　some　cunningly　devised　hiding　place　a　small；　cheap　〃vanity　box；〃

and　proceeded　very　gravely　to　powder　her　nose。　　







CHAPTER　III。　TO　THE　VICTORS　THE　SPOILS



〃Hey；　boys！〃　Luck　Lindsay　shouted　to　Applehead　and　one　or　two　of　the　Happy

Family　who　were　down　at　the　chuckwagon　engaged　in　uneasy　discussion　as　to

what　Luck　would　say　when　he　found　out　about　their　intention　to　leave。　〃Come　on

up　herethis　is　going　to　be　a　wiping　out　of　old　scores　and　I　want　to　get　it

over　with！〃



〃Well；　now；　I　calc'late　the　fur's　about　to　fly；〃　Applehead　made　dismal

prophecy；　as　they　started　to　obey　the　summons。　〃All　't　su'prises　me　is　't　he's

held　off　this　long。　Two　hours　is　a　dang　long　time　fer　Luck　to　git　in　action；

now　I'm　tellin'　yuh！〃　He　took　off　his　hat　and　polished　his　shiny　pate；　as　was

his　habit　when　perturbed。　〃I'm　shore　glad　we　had　t'　wait　and　set　them　wagon…

tires；〃　he　added。　〃We'd　bin　started　this　mornin'　only　fer　that。〃



〃Aw；　we　ain't　done　nothing；〃　Happy　Jack　protested　in　premature　self　defense。

〃We　ain't　left　the　ranch　yet。　I　guess　a　feller's　got　a　right　to　THINK！〃



〃He　has；　if　he's　got　anything　to　do　it　with；〃　Pink　could　not　forbear　to　remark

pointedly。



〃Well；　if　a　feller　didn't　have；　he'd　have　a　fat　chance　borrying　from　YOU；〃

Happy　Jack　retorted。　



〃Well；　by　cripes；　I　ain't　perpared　to　bet　very　high　that　there's　a　teacupful

uh　brains　in　this　hull　outfit；〃　Big　Medicine　asserted。　〃We　might　a　knowed

Luck'd　come　back　loaded　fer　bear；　we　WOULD　a　knowed　it　if　we　had　any　brains　in

our　heads。　I'm　plumb　sore　at　myself。　By　cripes；　I　need　kickin'！〃



〃You'll　get　it；　chances　are；〃　Pink　assured　him　grimly。



Luck　was　in　the　living　room；　sitting　at　a　table　on　which　were　scattered　many

papers　Scribbled　with　figures。　He　had　a　cigarette　in　his　lips；　his　hat　on　the

back　of　his　head　and　a　twinkle　in　his　eyes。　He　looked　up　and　grinned　as　they

came　reluctantly　into　the