She
beckoned to Arrowhead, and he followed her to the grindstone. She poured
some water on the wheel and began to turn it, nodding at the now
impassive Indian to begin. Presently he nodded also, and put his knife
on the stone. She kept turning steadily, singing to herself the while,
as with anxiety she saw the Indians drawing closer and closer in from the
gate. Faster and faster she turned, and at last the Indian lifted his
knife from the stone. She reached out her hand with simulated interest,
felt the edge with her thumb, the Indian looking darkly at her the while.
Presently, after feeling the edge himself, he bent over the stone again,
and she went on turning the wheel still singing softly. At last he
stopped again and felt the edge. With a smile which showed her fine
white teeth, she said, "Is that for me?" making a significant sign across
her throat at the same time.
The old Indian looked at her grimly, then slowly shook his head in
negation.
"I go hunt Yellow Hawk to-night," he said. "I go fight; I like marry you
when I come back.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121