The Lamar register., 1901-08-14
CHAPTER III.

In the sage brush wigwam the sum-
mer waned to autumn with dreary
stiffness. Grey already. the stretch of
brush, relieved alone by the willow
fringe of the wandering creek, was
cheerless, dreary and oppressive to the
girl. She sat alone. while the chilling
wind was wantonly ripping the leaves
from the branches. her head dropped
low in hopeless despair.
A shadow. thrown by the setting
sun, betrayed presence. Dumbly she
raised her eyes to look.
Ugh" said a tall, grunting Washoe
buck.
She turned away her head again.
"Mahala, do you wait for Mingo?"
said the man. Johnny Shag is big
ger chief. Mingo shall never come"
She looked in silence on the ashes of
the wood burned the day before.
"Mahala." he added, zone. two moons
Jonny Shag come to take you the trail
to my wigwam. Why not any talk?
Too long. you sabbee? Mahala waits
for Mingo. Better look out Mahaia:
Jonny Shag is warrior. To-day You
better talk"
"One moon. let me think" she
wearily answered. Let me wait one
moon"
"One moon, yet. Jonny Shag will
wait. Many things come before the
moon again." He glided away. and
again her head sank wearily down.
Mingo, the Washoe, stealthIy re-
turning to Chloride hill. kept cautious
ears and eyes awide. to learn the re-
suit of the murder at the mine. Susie,
he rightly conjectured, would have
guessed the truth. He avoided the
wikiup. but remained In the town. Pa
tience with many an Indian is a virtue.
On a crisp, cool day, while Mingo
talked with group of bucks on n cor
ner, Shag, on pony and armed with
rifle. rode up behind. Raising his
gun, he deliberately shot Mingo
through the body, and escaped to the
hills.
The thoroughly astounded camp Of
fcials promptly gave pursuit. but all
in vain. Friends and relations of the
dead man assisting. the country was
secured, skillfully. cunningly. Canyons.
valleys. the shoulders of the noun
tains. were traversed and searched, !,
but nothing availed. Shag enjoyed ev-
cry advantage.
Three Indian trailers. mounted came
at length to where the fugitive was
lying in ambush. One of these escaped
with his life and rode like dernon
to tell of the two. lying grisly and
stark, struck in the back by the bull
let's of Shag. their faces now twisted
in the sun.
A STOPPING, stricken Washoe, the old
Red Wolf. whose boys they were that
had died in the sand, departed in sill
ence. alone, on the path OF war. The
fued was his. In the night he found
the man he sought. found him asleep
left him asleep-his knife standing
firm, erect. buried to the hilt In the
breast OF Shag the warrior.
The year grew old; its days. like
the hours of waking of an old and
passing man, were dim and short. its
nights long sleeps. that made it none
the stronger. " .H
And yet there came day that was
like an echo of what had been before
the year began to age. Susie. wan but
wistful of face, went from the hope
less wigwam and hurried away up the
moaning creek. She went to a copse
of alder trees, entered and was lost to
view.
An hour later she slowly emerged
and in her arms she carried n child, a
little boy with fairest hair and the
bluest of eyes. She seated herself in
the sunlight and shivered as she nes-
tied the infant and cooed it softly with
Indian words. She was faint and
weary, but strangely happy. Her baby
resembled its father, young as 1t was.
Her heart went leaping to it-embrac-
ed it-owned it! Her pain. her suffer-
ing. everything was forgotten.
All the afternoon she sat by tie
stream nursing her baby. Guiding 1t
closely. warming 1t ever in her throb-
bing breast. AS the twilight approach
ed, the air was the balm of the Indian
summer.
Rising, she placed her baby in the
rustling grass; deftly she bent the
subtle willows down-masses of willow
and throwing the grass, leaves and
twigs over all, made a roof to catch
the frost. Into this with her child she
crept. nesting it gently as before.
Night came down. Quite late the
babe awoke and feebly cried. She
smothered it and sang. in her sad
sweet voice, a lullaby:
hear the crickets sing in the long
grasses; ....
Many camp-fires OF the braves shine
in the sky
They shine again in the little river;
The wind is small and gentle when it
plays in your hair.
Lie in my heart as the pebbles lie in
the little river;
Ac IN nrickats lie in the long praSsps.