Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1904-06-24
FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION

bhAo AiuNh W olhld, " uCI DOJ was I1C
one raw spot in her nature. She never
permitted the kind-hearted Mrs.
Howe's advice to bother her, however,
and only mumbled to herself as the big
fellow slumped down on the cellar
door, his keen eyes following the chick
ems preparing to roost in the cedar
trees.
But while the soapsuds splashed and
the water streamed and dripped over
the floor, the thrifty housewife busted
herself at tldying things on the porch,
for a glance at the young buck made
her realize the propriety Of her pres
ence on the scene. "Ill do what |
have always intended to do with this
game-bag," she said half aloud. 1T
has hung here long enough collecting
trash. This is a good time to overhaul
it and throw the rubbish away"
The game-bag was a ponderous
leather thing. and its capacity appar-
emily unlimited. Old fish hooks and
tackle came first, rusted and rotten
from long disuse. Then hatchets, horse
shoes, gopher traps, door knobs, coils
Of wire, shot pouches, fly boxes, empty
shells, a whisky flask, old pipes, rubber
gloves-everything, in short, that a
catch-all of such sort collects in the
course of twenty years. The last thing
brought up was an old hunting knife
AN ugly-looking weapon, broad and
short, with a rude deer-horn handle.
The blade was rusted, and looked as If
not cleaned after its last thrust.
Teh white hands touched it gingerly.
Il don't know what to do with all
these things after ALL" the woman
said, looking up into the quizzical eyes
Of the tall young fellow, who came
singing Bonnie Doom through the
house, whistled the dogs over from the
stable. stirred the drowsy canary into
a flood Of song, and sem the cats scam
pering away from the ~neighborhood of
the meat safe. "They were your faith
er's things, Hal, when he wasn't much
older than you," she explained. in the
subdued tones in which one instructive
ly refers to the dead. But the duty on
hand was temporarily dropped when
the boy ANNOUNCED that a book agent
was in the front hall, and the con-
tents of the game bacg were left in a
heap on the floor.
Sikra still bent low over her tubs.
but now her eyes were wild, and every
nerve in her body tingled with excite.
ment. The back of her benefactress
was scarcely turned when the hunting
knife was swept into her hands and
stealthily concealed under her apron.
Her boy did not follow her actions, but
sat idly in the sunshine, watching the
lower branches of the cedar filling with
its tenants for the night. Meanwhile
the pile of clean clothes grew with sur
prising rapidity. A wonderful energy
was at work, rubbing, rinsing, wiring
ing and o the work was completed,
n the .squaw departed with her son.
The next weeks washing was ac-
complished with the same degree of
unwonted energy. Sikra stood upright.
no longer bent and decrepit. Her hour
or triumph was come. The knife still
hung at her belt-the knife she had
watched Black Wing make from the
horn of the deer she had seen him kill.
At last Sikra had found a trace of one
of her mans murderers. This fact
worked itself slowly into her darkened
mind, for the knife in the game bag
cried out Howe's implication in the
crime.
But now, at the very moment of her
impending triumph, a shadow fell
athwart her CLEAN Of hope. The boy,
nurtured into stalwart manhod for one
end, loked at her listlessly when, with
dilated eyes and hushed voice, she told
him the story of her discovery. He did
not seem to even hear her tale. After
a sleepless night, she went to rouse
him and try again to wake the ven