The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-07-31
CHAPTER VIII-Continued

y
Because they remove any member
of the tribe that has had to do with
q negro"
Remover"
Kill. By torture"
She stared at him. He was drunk,
of course. you're talking nonsense"
she said crisply. She was very angry.
Don't let this get around. They
might blame you. The Osages. They
might I'll Just go and take another
look at her."
The girl was sleeping. Sabra felt
pang of pity as she gazed down at
her. go to bed-off with .you," said
Doctor Valiant to Isaiah. The boys
face was wet, pulpy with tears and
sweat and fright. He walked slackly,
as though exhausted.
"Wait." Sabra cut him some bread
from the loaf, sliced a piece of meat
left from supper. Here. Eat this.
Everything will be all right in the
morning"
The news got round. Perhaps Doc
tor Valiant talked in drink. Doubt
less the girl who came in to help her.
Perhaps Isaiah, who after nights
exhausted sleep had suddenly become
proudly paternal and boasted loudly
about the house (and no doubt out of
it) of the size, beauty. and intelligence
of the little lump Of dusky flesh that
lay beside Arita's bed in the very era
die that had held Donna when an in
FAINT. Arita was frantic to get up.
They had to keep her in bed by main
force. She had not spoken dozen
words since the birth of the child.
On the fourth day following the
child's birth Sabra came into Arita's
room early in the morning and she
was not there. The infant was not
there. Their beds had been slept in
and now were empty. She ran straight
into the yard where Isaiah's little hut
stood. He was not there. She ques-
toned the girl who now helped with
the homework and who slept on a
couch in the dining room. She had
heard nothing, seen nothing. The
three had vanished in the night
Well, Sabra thought, philosophically,
they have gone off. Isaiah can make
out, somehow. Perhaps he can even
get u job as printer somewhere. He
was handy, quick, bright. He had
some money, for she had given him,
in these later years, a little weekly
wage, and he had earned a quarter
here, half dollar there. Enough,
perhaps, to take them by train back
to Kansas. Certainly they had not
gone to Arita's people. for Big Knee
questioned, denied all knowledge of his
daughter. of her child, Of the black
boy. They could make nothing of him.
His squaw, stout, silent. only shook
her head; pretended that she neither
spoke nor understood English.
Then the rumor rose, spread. re-
ceived credence. It was started by
Pete Pitchlyn, the old Indian guide
and plainsman, who was married to a
Cherokee, and who had even been
adopted into the Cherokee tribe. He
had got the story from Cherokee
who in turn had had it from an
Usage. The Usage, having managed
to lay hands on some whisky, and be-
coming very drunk, now told the
grisly tale for the first time.
There had been an Usage meeting
of the principal chief, old Howling
Wolf; the assistant chief; the eight
members of the council, which included
Big Knee, Arita's father. There the
news Of the girls dereliction had been
discussed. her punishment gravely de-
cided upon. and that of Isaiah.
They had come in the night and got
them-the black boy, the Indian girl.
the infantry what means no one
knew. Arita and her child had been
bound together, placed in an untanned
and uncured steer hide, the hide was
securely fastened. they were carried
then to the open, sun-baked. and de-
serted prairie and left there, with a
guard. The hide shrank and shrank
and shrank In the burning sun, closer
and closer, day by day, until soon
there was no movement within it.
Isaiah, already half dead with
fright, was at MONDAY securely bound
and fastened to stake. Near by, but