The Fayette falcon. (Somerville, Tenn.) 190?-current, 1918-03-15

shore Of a fair-sized lake, on the far
Their side of which doomed the conical
lodges Of an Indian camp.
"You sabe now?" said he as they
crossed the ice. "Thls bunch generally
comes In here about this time, and
stays till spring. / get the squaws to
wash for me. Ever see Mr.. Indian on
his native heathT
Hazel never had, and she was duly
interested, even If a trife shy Of the
red brother who stared so fxedly. She
entered a lodge with Bill, and listened
to him make laundry arrangements In
broken English with a withered old
beldame whose features resembled a
ham that had hung overlong In the
~smokehouse. Two or three blanketed
bucks squatted by the fire that sent Its
blue smoke streaming out the apex OF
the lodge.
"Heap fine squaw" one suddenly ad-
dressed Bill. "Where you ketchumT
Bill laughed at Hazel's confusion.
"Away off," He gestured southwark,
and the Indian grunted some unlntel-
ligible remark In his own tongue-at
which Roaring Bill laughed again.
Before they started home Bill sue
ceeded In purchasing, after much talk,
a pair Of moccasins that Hazel con-
coded to be a work Of art, what with
the dainty pattern Of beads and the
ornamentation Of colored %porcupine
quilts. Her feminine soul could not
cavil when Bill thrust them In the
pocket Of her coat, even IL her mind
was set against accepting any peace
tokens at his hands.
In the nearing sunset they went
home through the frost-bitten woods,
where the snow crunched and squeaked
under their feet, and the branches
broke of with plstol-like snap when
they were bent aside.
A hundred yards from the cabin Bill
challenged her for a race. She refused
to run, and he picked her up bodily,
and ran with her to the very door. he
held her a second before he set her
down, and Hazel's face whitened. She
could feel his breath on her cheek, and
she could feel his arms culver. and the
rapid beat of his heart. For an instant
she thought Roaring Bill Wagstaff was
about to make the colossal mistake Of
trying to kiss her.
But he set her gently on her feet and
opened the door. And by the time he
had his outer clothes Off and the fires
started up he was talking w~himsically
about their Indian neighbors, and Ha-
eel breathed more freely. The clear
est impression that she had, aside from
her brief panic, was Of his strength. He
had run with her as easily as II she
had been a child.
After that they went out many times
together. Bill took her hunting, initi-
ated her into the mysteries Of rife
shooting, and the manipulation Of q
slx-shooter. He taught her to walk on
snowshoes. lightly ove the surface Of
the crusted snow, through which other
wise she fioundered. A sort of truce
arose between them, and the days drift
ed by without untoward incident. Bill
tended to his horses, chopped wood,
carried water. She took upon herself
the carr Of the house. And through
the lcng evenings, In default Of CONVEX
sation, they would sit with a book on
either side Of the fireplace that roared
defiance to the storm gods without.
And sometimes Hazel would find her
self wondering why Roaring Bill Wag-
staf could not have come into her life
In q different manner. As II was-she
never, never would forgive him.