The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-09-18
CHAPTER XIII-Continued

-IS-
She went through it and stood it,
miraculously, until one grotesquerie
proved too much for her strained
nerves and broke them. But she went
into the Indian house, and saw CHM
sitting beside the Indian woman, and
as she looked at his beautiful weak
face she thought, 1 wish that had
never found him that day when he
was lost on the prairie long ago. He
came toward her. his head lowered
with that familiar look. his fine eyes
hidden by the lids.
Look at mel" Sabra, commanded, in
the voice of Felice Venable. The boy
raised his eyes. She looked at him.
her face stony. Ruby Big Elk came
toward her with the leisurely, insolent,
scuffling step. The two women gazed
at each other; rather. their looks
FLASHED, like swords held high. They
did not shake hands.
There were races, there were prizes,
there was dancing. In the old Indian
days the bucks had raced on foot for
a prize that was pony tethered at
distance and won by the fleetest to
reach him, mount, and ride him back
to the starting point. Today the prize
was a magnificent motor car that
stood glittering in the open field half
a mile distant. Sabra thought, am
dying, l am dying. And Donna. This
squaw is her sister-in-law Miss Dig
NUNS on the Hudson.
Ruby's handsome head right had
bought the young couple the house
just across the road from Big Elk's-
a one-story red brick bungalow, sub
stantial, ugly. They showed Sabra
and Yancey through 1t. 1t was fur
nished complete. Mongrel Spanish
furniture in the living room-red
plush, fringe. brass nail heads as big
as twenty-dollar gold pieces. An up
right piano. An oak dining room set.
A fine bathroom with heavy rich bath
towels neatly hung ON the racks. A
shining stained oak bedroom set with
a rose-colored taffeta spread. Sabra
felt a wave Of nausea. Gins face was
smiling. radiant, Yancey was joking
and laughing with the Indians. In the
Kitchen sat white girl in a bingham
dress and kitchen apron. The girls
hair was so light yellow as to APP
pear almost white. Her unintelligent
eyes were palest blue. Her skin ' Is
SO fair as to be quite colorless In N.ie
midst of the roomful of dark Indian
faces the white face Of the new Cravat
hired girl seemed to swim in hazy
blob before Sabra's eyes. But she
held on. She felt Ruby's scornful dark
eyes on her. Sabra had a feeling as
though she had been disemboweled
and now was hollow thing. an empty
shell that moved and walked and
talked.
Dinner. White servants and negro
servants to wait on them. A long
table seating a score or more, and
many such tables. Bowls and plate
piled with food all down the length
of it. Piles of crisp pork, roasted in
the Indian fashion over hot embers
sunk in pit in the yard. and skew
cred with sharp pointed stick. Bowls
of dried corn. Great fat, black ripe
olives. Timed lobster. Chicken.
Piles Of dead ripe Strawberries. Vast
plateaus of angel-food cake covered
with snow fields of icing.
Sabra went through the motions Of
eating. Sometimes she put a morsel
into her mouth and actually swal-
lowed 1t. There was a great clatter
of knives and forks and dishes. Every
thing was eaten out of one plate
Platters and bowls were replenished.
Sabra found herself seated beside Mrs.
Big Elk. On her other side was
Yancey. He was eating and laughing
and talking. Mrs. Big Elk was being
almost 'comically polite, solicitous. She
pressed this tidbit, that dainty, on her
stony guest.
Down the center Of the table, at in
tervals, were huge bowls piled with a
sort of pastry stuffed with forcemeat.
1t was like great ravioli, and piles
of it vanished beneath the onslaught
of appreciative guests.
"For Gods sake, pretend to eat
something, Sabra," Yancey murmured.
under his breath. Its done now.
They consider it an insult. Try to eat
something"
She stirred the pastry and chopped
meat that had been put on her plate.
"Good," said Mrs Big Elk, beside
her, and pointed at the mass with one
dusky maculate finger.
Sabra lifted her fork to her lips
and swallowed bit Of it. 1t was de-
tieious-spicy, rich, appetizing. "Yes. -
she said, and thought, am being won
derful. This is killing me. Eyes. it is
very good. This meat-this stuffing-
Is it chopped or ground through a
grinder?"
The huge Indian woman beside her
turned her expressionless gaze on
Sabra. Ponderously she shook her
head from side to side in negation.
"Naw,' she answered, politely.
-'Chawed."
The clatter of fork dropped to
the plate. a clash among the cups and