Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1894-11-23
YELLOW FEATHER.

Clayson was fine looking fellow, trim
built from his feet to his head, and be
dressed to lose none of his natural advan-
tages. But what really gave him his air
of distinction was not his clothes nor his
manner of wearing them. 1t was the long
blond mustache that he constantly twisted
and UNFINISHED at the ends. 1t was Il mus
tache SO imposing and ornamental in its
waving color that the Indians, quick to
seize salient points of personality for chris
taning, named him Yellow Feather the
day he arrived On the reserve. Still Clay
son was more than a man with a mus
bache.
He certainly was not straining his fac
ulties as he sauntered from evening sta
bles'' to the officers clubrooin in the
traders store on a bright day in May not
many years ago. To tell the truth, there
was nothing especial i'll his mind until be
turned the corner of the building. Then
he suddenly reused to mental activity, al
though the cause might seem trivial to
others-it was only a squaw, and squaws
We're common, very common, in that vi
cinity. She turned her head, and he saw
such eyes as he never before had seen in a
human head. They looked straight into
his brain-and staid there.
The squaw was on her pony, slowly rid
ing away. He then noticed for the first
time that her hair hung loose down her
back. She was married woman. When
she reached the end of the corral wall and
just before she made the turn, she glanced
back, and that glance found him. The
light in those Turing eyes said, "Follow
mo!''
His impulse was to call to passing
man and order his horse, but fortunately
the logic in his mind asserted itself and
told him that he could not trail after
squaw in broad daylight. He thought of
something else and re- entered the store to
act upon that thought. He boughta pound
OF tobacco and several bundles Of cigarette
papers and with his purchase sought San
chez, the interpreter, in his camp below
the post.
He missed retreat" and lost his dinner
st the mess before fnesse and tobacco had
drawn from Sanchez that Tinta was a Mex
lean captive. captured as babe and aft
erward reared as the only child Of Bonito,
head soldier of the Chiricahuas. She had
recently married Ramona, a young sub
chief, but within a moon from the we'd
ding feast they had quarreled, and, strange
to all the tribe, she had asserted her rights.
Apache women have rights-that is, prop
erty rights. She gathered her ponies and
drove them to her fathers herd. Now she
dweit in Bonito's lodge, and it was an open
question how many ponies Ramona must
pay before be got back his bride-the num-
Der depended upon her sweet will as ea
pressed through the arbitrator, Bonito.
Ramona had begun to bid. And Sanchez
flung away the end of the fifteenth ciga-
rette, with the admonition, ''Tinta is heap
muncho dangerous camel
With the rising Of the next sun Clayson
was three miles up the north fork inspect
ing the troop gardens. He wished to sec
the dew On the cabbage sparkle in the
early light; besides the main camp of the
Chiricahuas was i'll the bottom land OH
the opposite SIDE and Benito's lodge stood
by itself close to the river bank.
It may have been the sound of an iron
shoe striking the rocks. or it may have
been neutrality-suspicious. Tinta came from
the lodge while Clayson S horse was drink
ing, knee deep in the stream. He refined
up the horse S head and urged him through
the water straight for those eyes. She
smiled welcome, and there, in the hiding
shadows OF the tall cottonwoods, he kissed