Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1901-10-31
.Now he'll want his knife. I"

NOW ne IL want MS knlIe-
Sure enough, the Coyote That Bites
did shake his brown legs and arms
quite vigorously, but the last two big
swallows of mescal held him down.
So, after turning over and burying his
hatchetlike face in the sand. he lay
quiet again.
When he had thus turned over, was
brought into view the rifle. which had
been concealed by his dirty blanket.
Dubs eyed the weapon with covetous
eyes. He could not withstand the temp
tation of feeling it all over, standing
1t up on its butt and trying to shoulder
/ IL, but this last feat he could hardly
accomplish. Just what ii was that
kept his fingers OFF the hammer and
| trigger and prevented sound that
/ would surely have brought the Coyote
| to his feet with yell. | am sure | can
not tell. but Dubs played with that
| fascinating weapon nearly an hour.
while Gay poured sand over the car
tridges. hiding nearly all of them from
view.
BY this time the suns rays were on
| the long slant. and the children were
very hungry. By this time. too. the
Apache was growing restless. for the
mescal had nearly lost its grip upon
| him A train laundering by. or. much
less. a swift" brushing against his
black foot. spider dropping on his
leg. or even big fly buzzing at his
ear-any of these would have set his
| demon force into play again.
But the children could not wait for
such demonstrations as these. though
why it did not occur to DubS that the
Coyotes ear needed tickling with a
| grease wood twig the Lord only knows.
The wind was up. and the wires were
murmuring louder than ever The wee
| ones had sported in the black shadows
long enough-had played with the fangs
of the deadly serpent until they were
| tired and their stomachs were empty.
So they set off on trot for home.
| Just as they turned the bend and
came in sight of the low roof of the
| station a dust devil'' swept by the
rocks where lay the Coyote That Bites.
He jumped to his feet. grasped his
| empty sheath. gave n mad whoop and
started about in feverish rage. There
was his knife. half covered by the
sand and there was his rife, far from
his side. Here was the cartridge belt
empty. ard all about him in the sand
were countless little footprints.
A bewilde:ed look stole over his face,
but it passed away when his eyes rest
ed on the empty demiiohn. The ex-
preston that replaced it was one Of de-
moniacal ferocity, and the lust of
slaughter lay heavily upon him. But
the cartridges where were they? He
saw Gays mound of sand and, kicking
it, gave grunt Of delight to see the
braZen capsules that were scattered
right and left by his foot.
He picked them all up, grunting over
each one. Filling the belt and grasping
his rifle, he started off in the direction
in which the small footprints led. Like
bloodhound, he chased along the
track. His eyes scanned the plain at
every turn, and his breath was hot and
strong But when he turned the big
curve and saw the station he knew that
| he was late-too late-and he gave a
grunt Of disgust and was off like the
wind over a side trail that led toward
the sunset.
! In the low rooted station house the
mother crooned to tired little Gay, ly-
ing so soft and limp in her arms. She
looked out over the desert, saw the sun
touching the tips OF the solemn giant
cacti with purple dots, saw the prickly
pear shrubs holding their grotesque
arms above the great sweep of sand
that ran down to the low horizon and
felt the inspiration of the scene. as she
had often felt 1t before, for the desert
has beauty that is all its own. She
knew that other women in the great
cities and in the cool, green valleys
might pity her In that desolate spot.
but she felt that she needed not their
pity. Dubs came and leaned his head
against her arm where she sat, and lit
tie Gay nestled down with tired sigh.
Yes, there was much, she thought, for
which to be thankful.
| And in truth there was.