The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1904-06-10


and her cEild's life. Then in the dark
hour, when the great aim of her life's
struggle seemed about to be torn from
her, it 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 without this woman's help.
The bonnie blue skies smiled blandly
on the summer world, and the air hung
heavy with 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 eff
fort to save her son. For what?
AS Hal dashed out of the pantry, a
moment later. he caught 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 woman's.
But in his laughing blue eyes shone
the image of the elder Howe. The
hideous grin of Black Wings upturned
face Knocked her from the seething
suds. A stified 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 woman'S slave, or was she Black
Wings squaw? Before nightfall the
question was definitely settled in her
mind The victuals always left for her
to take home to warm over were tied
into her apron, under which the rusted
knife still hung.
The Indian boy grew stronger each
day with the recuperative power of a
wild thing. Day in and day out he
loitered idly around the white house,
and sometimes a doubt arose in the
mind of the white house woman as to
the effects of this ill-assorted friend
ship between the two boys. Once, as
she saw her son turn and fling his arm
across the broad shoulders of the In
dian lad in evident affection, she
flinched instinctively Since their baby
hood they had tumbled over the porch
together, squabbled, fought and played
like brothers-this blue-eyed, rollick-
ing young Saxon and the swart, 1.-THE
aborigine.
There were many new squirrel traps
devised, new schemes for spearing fish
and sharing small creatures in the
forest, and enthusiastic preparations
for a deer hunt in the mountains be-
fore the young fellows vacation should
end
"We'll leave all these things just as
they are till we get back from our trip
to Redwood creek" Hal said, one day,
as he planned his outing with the In
dian, "and finish them when we have
more time" The Indian did not an
swer. The moon was bright, and the
young fellows blue eyes shone with
the light of future hopes and plans.
The hunting trip was prolonged from
one week to two; then three. At the
end of that time, Halls mother began
to grow uneasy. At the expiration of
the fourth week, when the Indian re-
turned without young Howe, conster-
nation spread throughout the town.
Ragged, gaunt, barefooted, half
starved, the Indian had arrived in the
ration from his comrade, and weeks OF
search and danger to find him in the
| impenetrable forest Search-parties
were quickly formed. and the noun
tains and lagoons secured in the hope
| of finding the boy.
81 can't believe anything has hap
pened to him." Halls mother repeated
day after day, when the searchers re-
| ported failure at every turn. She
would not let her lips form the word
| dead" "I can't Oh, I can't"
| Sikra knew the pangs of this wom-
ans soul. She had learned that tone
and look when Black Wing lay dead
before her. But she regarded the
white, stricken face in stole silence.
1t was now late in the summer All
search for young Howe had proved
fruitless. His mother, suddenly old
and feeble from grief and suspense
stood, one day, looking toward the bay
in a blind hope. The Indian came
swinging slowly toward her. The boy
had been found. 1t was on Indian is
land. A knife-wound gaped in his
breast, his wide blue yes were up
turned in a hooking grim and the grass
around him was clotted and red.
Again there was no swooning, nc
overt demonstration of grief. Weeks
of suspense had taught the family II
the white house stole endurance.
Sikra came every week to do tne
washing as usual, while her son loi
tered near the cedar trees. One even
ing he brought the heartbroken WON
an what he considered a rare present
a melon of prodigous size. The In
dian sat down silently, and slowly ant
carefully he cut it. 1t was trifle over
ripe, the rich, red heart cleaning a: