The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1903-11-05
CHAPTER Y.

The old Sac, who had guarded her
every night of her remembrance, sat
upright, holding his knife, on which
frozen blood was crystallized. Two or
three dead wolves lay outside the log
on the snow. But not one of them
was frozen sitter than the Indian.
who, after his own fashion, had given
life itself for the safety of his adopted
child.
Peggy would not believe he was
dead. She chung to his old shoulders,
and screamed to rouse him. The Sac,
who loved white men, and had never
failed to answer the appeal of his white
child, silently blocked the entrance OF
the log. His eyebrows were hoar frost,
and the dark ruddiness Of his face and
neck seemed crusted with rough silver.
Peggys wild crying might have re-
sounded long in the hollow log, and
brought no person to help her. For
all around was the vast prairie stretch
ing from horizon to horizon, a glare
of whiteness unpierced by the smoke of
a single fire. But two figures toiled
toward New Salem through the early
cold, wading with effort, and finally
making for the hummock in which they
recognized the submerged log. Lincoln
and his chain-bearer encountered
the frozen Indian and the crying girl
as they stopped to enter and warm
themselves.
High as drifts were piled in New
Salem streets, for this was the winter
known long afterward as "the winter
of the deep snow" people gathered
hastily through the unabated storm
when word went around that Shick-
shack had been brought in frozen to
death. Lincoln and Antywine, in silent
agreement, stopped the OK sled they
had borrowed, at the door of Rutledge's
tavern. Neither said, LET us take
him to his own cabin In death, al
least, he should escape from the en-,
vironment which Sally made, and be
publicly honored.
Antywine went directly to carry the
news to the widow, and Sally heard it
making clicking sound of disapproval
with her tongue.
She knocked the ashes out of he,
cob pipe, partly on the hearth and
partly in the dinner pot, which hung
from the crane.
"Now don't that beat We! Gone and
froze hisself to death the first big snow
and New Salem seven miles from a
buryin' ground! He always was the
most ill-convenient old In'jan! Took
him to the tavern, did YEP
"Yes,' replied Antywine, without
apology.
well, keep him there. I'll come to
the funeral. Funerals is no novelty
to me, buryin' men as often as I have"
Neighbors talked in whispers around
the dignified figure stretched on a
white-covered board under a CANOPY
of sheets. But Antywine and Lincoln
had themselves washed it, and dressed
it in the Sacs best buckskins. Thew
found girded around the waist heavy
belt of rattlesnake skim
This is the snakes5in of money! he
longing to Peggy that he told me
about Lincoln said to Antywine. ssHe
must have taken it out of it's hiding
place before he started to find Dick
Yates. What shall we do with it,"
'Put it on, sieur Abe, to wear for
her, as Shickshac,1 did,
They say snakeskin in the hat is
good for the headache; but l don't
think could bear it rubbing against
my naked hide. This belt is nearer
your size, Antywine."
me, am a boy, Sieur Abe. Shick-
shack put his trust in you. He tell
you am squaw!"
4 reckon he changed his opinion.