The Heritage of the Sioux | Page 7

Nip Furrman. And any
balin' wire on this ranch is my balin' wire, and it's got a right to lay
around wherever I want it t' lay. And I don't need no danged squaw
givin' me hints about 'how my place oughta be kept--now I'm tellin'
yuh!"

Annie-Many-Ponies did not reply in words. She sat on her horse,
straight as any young warchief that ever led her kinsmen to battle, and
looked down at Applehead with that maddening half smile of hers,
inscrutable as the Sphinx her features sometimes resembled. Shunka
Chistala (which is Sioux for Little Dog) came bounding over the low
ridge that hid the ranch buildings from sight, and wagged himself
dislocatingly up to her. Annie-Many-Ponies frowned at his approach
until she saw that Applehead was aiming a clod at the dog, whereupon
she touched her heels to the horse and sent him between Applehead and
her pet, and gave Shunka Chistala a sharp command in Sioux that sent
him back to the house with his tail dropped.
For a full half minute she and old Applehead looked at each other in
open antagonism. For a squaw, Annie-Many-Ponies was remarkably
unsubmissive in her bearing. Her big eyes were frankly hostile; her half
smile was, in the opinion of Applehead, almost as frankly scornful. He
could not match her in the subtleties of feminine warfare. He took
refuge behind the masculine bulwark of authority.
"Where yuh bin with that horse uh mine?" he demanded harshly. "Purty
note when I don't git no say about my own stock. Got him all het up
and heavin' like he'd been runnin' cattle; I ain't goin' to stand for havin'
my horses ran to death, now I'm tellin' yuh! Fer a squaw, I must say
you're gittin' too danged uppish in your ways around here. Next time
you want to go traipsin' around the mesa, you kin go afoot. I'm goin' to
need my horses fer roundup."
A white girl would have made some angry retort; but
Annie-Many-Ponies, without looking in the least abashed, held her
peace and kept that little inscrutable smile upon her lips. Her eyes,
however, narrowed in their gaze.
"Yuh hear me?" Poor old Applehead had never before attempted to
browbeat a woman, and her unsubmissive silence seemed to his
bachelor mind uncanny.
"I hear what Wagalexa Conka tell me." She turned her horse and rode
composedly away from him over the ridge.
"You'll hear a danged sight more'n that, now I'm tellin' yuh!" raved
Applehead impotently. "I ain't sayin' nothin' agin Luck, but they's goin'
to be some danged plain speakin' done on some subjects when he
comes back, and given' squaws a free rein and lettin' 'em ride

rough-shod over everybody and everything is one of 'era. Things is
gittin' mighty funny when a danged squaw kin straddle my horses and
ride 'em to death, and sass me when I say a word agin it--now I'm tellin'
yuh!"
He went mumbling rebellion that was merely the effervescing of a
mood which would pass with the words it bred, to the store-room
which Annie-Many-Ponies had called the prop-room. He found there,
piled upon a crude shelf, many little bundles of wire folded neatly and
with the outer end wound twice around to keep each bundle separate
from the others. Applehead snorted at what he chose to consider a
finicky streak in his secret idol, Luck Lindsay; but he took two of the
little bundles and went and wired the wagon tongue. And in the work
he found a salve of anticipatory pleasure, so that he ended the task to
the humming of the tune he had heard a movie theatre playing in town
as he rode by on his way home.

CHAPTER II.
THE DAUGHTER OF A CHIEF
In spite of Andy Green's plea for delay until they knew what Luck
meant to do, Applehead went on with his energetic preparations for a
spring roundup of his own. Some perverse spirit seemed to possess him
and drive him out of his easy-going shiftlessness. He offered to hire the
Happy Family by the day, since none of them would promise any
permanent service until they heard from Luck. He put them to work
gathering up the saddle-horses that had been turned loose when Luck's
picture was finished, and repairing harness and attending to the
numberless details of reorganizing a ranch long left to slipshod
make-shifts.
The boys of the Flying U argued while they worked, but in spite of
themselves the lure of the mesa quickened their movements. They were
supposed to wait for Luck before they did anything; an they all knew
that. But, on the other hand, Luck was supposed to keep them informed
as to his movements; which he had not done. They did not voice