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

geance in his blood, but he did moi
know her.
Wild with apprehension, the old
squaw's first thought was Of Mrs.
Howe, her n~ever-failing source Of sue
COZ. The kind eyes up at the white
house grew large with sympathy and
dread. ITS only a fever, Sikra."
young Hal came forward to assure her.
and catching up his hat he followed
the distraught mother to her little hut.
The wild, black eyes that met his,
as he entered, startled him with their
ferocity. and the wilder words held
him on the threshold. But Sikra's dumb
lok of appeal prompted him to enter
the room. The calm presence, and the
cool, firm hands of the white boy seem
ed to lay the fever devils. And the
thought that the fever might be con-
tagious was overbalanced in his mind
by the grief of the squaw mother.
"He must not die; he must not die"
she walled 81 raise him for now! For
Just nowT"
The weeks that followed were a
grim struggle with the fever devils
that filled the Indian boys frame.
When his wild rawlings and threats Of
vengeance rose to shrieks and threat
ened to exhaust the Pickering flame of
life, nothing but the cool, strong hands
that had first quieted him had any
power to calm him. So day after day
the struggle with the Destroyer was
waged.
Poor old Sikra's heart seems set on
his accomplishing something before he
dies" young Howe explained, one day,
to his mother. at is pitiful to see her
hopelessness whenever the symptoms
are discouraging." And when others
said: Let the good-for-nothing red
skin die; he is a menace to the neigh
borhood," the boys blue eyes flashed
his scorn at their sentiments. HE is
all she has," he answered.
When at last they were able to say
to Sikra, "He will live" it was at
young Howe's feet she flung herself,
for it a Hal whose presence, she
declared, had saved her boy.
In time the old conditions of the
two households were r~e-established.
Mrs. Howe tried to be more consider
ate Of the old squaw. Her selfess de-
votion to her boy during those high
pressure weeks had awakened a SYM
pathetic feeling in the mother-heart Of
| tha othnr Nm DIT S;l.no ..--
stolid and glum than ever before
much to the surprise of the kindly lady
Of the white house, who had been
Sikra's n friend. When she had fled
from the scene of the massacre, hunt
ed and helpless, it was Mrs. Howe who
had taken her in and given her shelter
and employment. When she had fallen
i'll, it was Mrs. Howe's cool, white
hands that had ministered to her, saw
ing her and her child's life. Then in
the dark hour, when theg reat aim of
her life's struggle seemed about to be
torn from her, 1t was Hal who had
come to her assistance. She, like the
poor squaw, had only this one son, the
light Of her eyes. A troop of such
thoughts came in sluggish train
through Sikra's mind as the suds flew
high, frightening the canary from his
perch by their rising tide; and she
wondered if she could have raised this
boy for the purpose of vengeance with
out this wOman's help.
The bonnie blue skies smiled blandly
in the summer world, and the air hung
heavy with a stiffness and peace that
brought a certain lethargy to her de.
termination. Young Howe's voice,
whistling or singing, came floating
through the wool of her fancies and re-
called the hours he had sat patiently
in her fever-ridden little hut in his
effort to save her son. For what?
AS Hal dashed out Of the pantry, a
moment later, he caught a look in her
eyes as guilty as his own, which
prompted him to count the pies to see
if she had been stealing, too.
"Here's one for you," he said, find
ing the number even, and slipping her
a turnover. AS he perched on the bin
to MUNICH his plumber, his hat fell back.
His face was very fair, and his hair
curled on his forehead like a woman's.
But in his laughing blue eye shone the
image Of the elder Howe The hideous
grin Of Black Wings upturned face
Knocked her from the seething suds. A
stlfed grOan seemed to rise from the
kissing steam. The warm stream that
trickled down her arm was only water,
but the red, clotted pools were still
vivid in her memory. Howe had killed
Black Wing. Was she this white won.
ans slave, or was she Black Wings
squaw? Before nightfall the question
was definitely settled in her mind. The
victuals always left for to take home
to warn over were tied into her apron.