The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1901-10-17

but the hand fell and the noble red
man SnOred on.
Dubs tried IN the cartridge belt and
became an Indian, all but the indis-
pensabie knife, and he concluded to
borrow that from the sleeper, whose
fingers had lost their grip on the buck
horn handle.
cts bigger'n NOMINEES butcher
knife, amt it, Gay?" the young savage
asked as he grasped the handle of the
devilish looking blade. "Now, you 'tand
over we're, and I'll get hind Wis wock
Ven you tum along, I'll jump out and
kill you"
Gay demurred.
ooh, it's on'y make b'leve. vese
kind O. Injuns don't kill nobody" And
he stuck contemptuous finger toward
the innocent Coyote. Its on'y PEACHES
at kills, an vey's none yound here,
mommie says. I'm 'Pache, so you
better look out"
1t was dubious sport for Gay, and
when 1t came to the killing part she
screamed Justify
l
ALL" said Dubs in tone of accusation.
"Now he'll want his knife"
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
it up on it's butt and trying to shoulder
It. but this last feat he could hardly
accomplish. Just what it 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,
" lille 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, swift brushing against his
black foot, a 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 1t did not occur to Dubs that the
Coyotes ear needed tickling with
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 a trot for home.
Just as they turned the bend and
came in sight of the low roof of the
station dust devil' swept by the
rocks where lay the Coyote That Bites
He jumped to his feet. grasped his
empty sheath, gave mad whOop and
started about in feverish rage. There
was his knife, half covered by the
sand. and there was mis- rifle, far from
his side. Here was the cartridge belt
empty. and all about him in the sand
were countless little footprints.
A bewildered look stole over his face.
but it passed away when his eyes rest
ed on the empty demijohn. 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
1t, gave a grunt of delight to see the
brazen capsules that were scattered
right and left by his foot.
He picked them all up. granting over
each one. Filling the belt and grasping
in which the small footprints led. Like
a 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
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 it 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
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