The enterprise-recorder. (Madison, Fla.) 1908-1933, 1908-11-19
The Son of Big Mountain
By Franklin welIes caIkins
q BY Franklin WeNes VaTKIHs q
Observation-Disclosures 3l3LGEGE8ISlG

, juniper bushes. The voice seemed to
be coming out of the lace Of the ledge,
and for a moment the lad stared in
bewilderment at the bare rock walls.
Then a protrduding bush betrayed
cleft near at hand, and its Lodges,
of seeming jointure, were, he knew,
some steps apart, He FASTENED to-
ward the half hidden opening, mag
ing that the small hunter must have
cornered a rabbit in that niche. To
Plenty Boys mind all animals smaller
than horses we're dogs, and the horse,
as to his elders, was a big, "mysJeri-
Gus dog a sunka wakan tanka,
Yellow Belt fastened to peer in at
the creyasse, and as he approached
his ears were startled by a rumbling
growl that set his stiff black hair on
end He knew that voice-the threat
Of ignu hanska, the long yellow cat Of
the mountains,-knew it for the good
reason that there was, at that mo-
ment, one partly tanned, a prisoner at
the Sans Arc village.
"Ho, good for-nothing Bad-bad-
bad" yelled the small brother, an
grily.
With his knees knocking, Yellow
Belt strung his bow, fitted an arrow,
and stepped softly into the creyasse.
The sight which met his eyes
might well have appalled, the heart
even Of his father, the CHEZ, Big
Mountain.
The youngest scion of the family,
breech- clouted, but otherwise naked,
was standing erect and defiant, sturd-
lily confronting a big cougar and her
young, insisting, as he angrily stamp
ed his feet, that the sunkilas come
down and play with him.
As he shook his fist at them, he
leaned backward-so close he was TO
the face Of rock upon which they were
perching-and the belt of his clout
leggings creased his fat sides in
double folds.
Yellow Belt saw all this at a glance,
and by his native instinct fully under
stood what had happened.
The little brother, wandering along
the face of the ledge, had come upon
the tiny spotted kits, got accidentally
between them and the mouth Of their
lair and had followed them into this
notch.
The old one, prowling upon the top
Of the ledge, had heard her young
ones distressed miauings, and had de-
scended a scarp which they were I'M
able TO climb.
The snarling old beast, her kits al
most within reach Of Plenty Boy, was
waiting to pounce upon the intruder
should it become necessary to protect
her young.
Yellow Belt was frightened enough:
for the moment his legs shook so that
he could hardly stand. He called
softly to Plenty Boy, hoping to coax
him away. But his words were of no
avail. The little lad had his eyes
glued upon the spotted kits, and the
desire to play with them was the
only emotion his infantile mind could
hold.
He answered the brothers entreaty
by a forward movement and angry
whoops at the kits.
And why was this tiny Sans Arc
not afraid of the mother?
Yellow Belt knew too well II was
because Of the big mountain-cat
which Lone Elk kept in a stake tee
pee, fastened with a white mans iron
rope, and at which creature, snarling
imDatiently, little villagers at home
were wont to launch their puerile de.
fiances.
Yellow Belts legs were vet veal;
and his teeth clicked with fear, as he
stepped cautiously toward the fierce
old cat now snarling down, her muz-
zle within three arms length of PIen-
ty Boys face. He knew better than
to call again to the sturdy urchin
He sought TO attract the angry
beasts attention TO himself. He re-
membered his mothers parting
charge, and grew drawer. HoldIng
bow and fixed arrow in one hand he
clenched the other and beat his breast
as he advanced.
"Ho! Look at me, igmu hanskalr
ne shouted. Il am the son of a chief
Big Mountain. ! do not fear you!"
Then, as the old cat seemed 10 draw
back against the rocks, he took fresh
courage. "Ho! ho!" he wboonod
See, l will send an arrow through
your hody!"
Tho sound Of his own voice greatly