the heritage of the sioux-第2节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



You're　boss　here；　Andy。　When　she　comes　back；　you　ask　'er　where　she's　been；　and

see　if　you　kin　git　a　straight　answer。　She'll　lie　to　yuhI'll　bet　all　I　got；

she'll　lie　to　yuh。　And　when　a　woman　lies　about　where　she's　been　to　and　what

she's　been　doin'；　you　can　bet　there's　something　scaley　goin'　on。　Yuh　can't

fool　ME！〃



He　turned　and　went　up　to　the　small　adobe　house　where　he　had　lived　in　solitary

contentment　with　his　cat　Compadre　until　Luck　Lindsay；　seeking　a　cheap

headquarters　for　his　free…lance　company　while　he　produced　the　big　Western

picture　which　filled　all　his　mind；　had　taken　calm　and　unheralded　possession　of

the　ranch。　Applehead　did　not　resent　the　invasion；　on　the　contrary；　he　welcomed

it　as　a　pleasant　change　in　his　monotonous　existence。　What　he　did　resent　was

the　coming；　first；　of　the　little　black　dog　that　was　no　more　than　a　tramp　and

had　no　right　on　the　ranch；　and　that　broke　all　the　laws　of　decency　and

gratitude　by　making　the　life　of　the　big　blue　cat　miserable。　Also　he　resented

the　uninvited　arrival　of　Annie…Many…Ponies　from　the　Sioux　reservation　in　North

Dakota。



Annie…Many…Ponies　had　not　only　come　uninvitedshe　had　remained　in　defiance　of

Luck's　perturbed　insistence　that　she　should　go　back　home。　The　Flying　U　boys

might　overlook　that　fact　because　of　her　beauty；　but　Applehead　was　not　so

easily　beguiledespecially　when　she　proceeded　to　form　a　violent　attachment　to

the　little　black　dog；　which　she　called　Shunka　Chistala　in　what　Applehead

considered　a　brazen　flaunting　of　her　Indian　blood　and　language；　Between　the

mistress　of　Shunka　Chistala　and　the　master　of　the　cat　there　could　never　be

anything　more　cordial　than　an　armed　truce。　She　had　championed　that　ornery　cur

in　a　way　to　make　Applehead's　blood　boil。　She　had　kept　the　dog　in　the　house　at

night；　which　forced　the　cat　to　seek　cold　comfort　elsewhere。　She　had　pilfered

the　choicest　table　scraps　for　the　dogand　Compadre　was　a　cat　of　fastidious

palate　and　grew　thin　on　what　coarse　bits　were　condescendingly　left　for　him。



Applehead　had　not　approved　of　Luck's　final　consent　that　Annie…Many…Ponies

should　stay　and　play　the　Indian　girl　in　his　big　picture。　In　the　mind　of

Applehead　there　lurked　a　grudge　that　found　all　the　more　room　to　grow　because

of　the　natural　bigness　and　generosity　of　his　nature。　It　irked　him　to　see　her

going　her　calm　way　with　that　proud　uptilt　to　her　shapely　head　and　that　little；

inscruable　smile　when　she　caught　the　meaning　of　his　grumbling　hints。



Applehead　was　easy…going　to　a　fault　in　most　things；　but　his　dislike　had　grown

in　Luck's　absence　to　the　point　where　he　considered　himself　aggrieved　whenever

Annie…Many…Ponies　saddled　the　horse　which　had　been　tacitly　set　aside　for　her

use；　and　rode　off　into　the　mesa　without　a　word　of　explanation　or　excuse。

Applehead　reminded　the　boys　that　she　had　not　acted　like　that　when　luck　was

home。　She　had　stayed　on　the　ranch　where　she　belonged；　except　once　or　twice；　on

particularly　fine　days；　when　she　had　meekly　asked　〃Wagalexa　Conka；〃　as　she

persisted　in　calling　Luck；　for　permission　to　go　for　a　ride。



Applehead　itched　to　tell　her　a　few　things　about　the　social；　moral；

intellectual　and　economic　status　of　an　〃Injun　squaw〃but　there　was　something

in　her　eye；　something　in　the　quiver　of　her　finely　shaped　nostrils；　in　the

straight　black　brows；　that　held　his　tongue　quiet　when　he　met　her　face　to　face。

You　couldn't　tell　about　these　squaws。　Even　luck；　who　knew　Indians　better　than

mostand　was；　in　a　heathenish　tribal　way；　the　adopted　son　of　Old　Chief　Big

Turkey；　and　therefore　Annie's　brother　by　adoptioneven　Luck　maintained　that

Annie…Many…Ponies　undoubtedly　carried　a　knife　concealed　in　her　clothes　and

would　use　it　if　ever　the　need　arose。　Applehead　was　not　afraid　of　Annie's

knife。　It　was　something　else；　something　he　could　not　put　into　words；　that　held

him　back　from　open　upbraidings。



He　gave　Andy's　wife；　Rosemary；　the　mail　and　stopped　to　sympathize　with　her

because　Annie…Many…Ponies　had　gone　away　and　left　the　hardest　part　of　the

ironing　undone。　Luck　had　told　Annie　to　help　Rosemary　with　the　work；　but

Annie's　help；　when　Luck　was　not　around　the　place；　was；　Rosemary　asserted；

purely　theoretical。



〃And　from　all　you　read　about　Indians；〃　Rosemary　complained　with　a　pretty

wrinkling　of　her　brows；　〃you'd　think　the　women　just　LIVE　for　the　sake　of

working。　I've　lost　all　faith　in　history；　Mr。　Furrman。　I　don't　believe　squaws

ever　do　anything　if　they　can　help　it。　Before　she　went　off　riding　today；　for

instance；　that　girl　spent　a　whole　HOUR　brushing　her　hair　and　braiding　it。　And

I　do　believe　she　GREASES　it　to　make　it　shine　the　way　it　does！　And　the　powder

she　piles　on　her　facejust　to　ride　out　on　the　mesa！〃　Rosemary　Green　was

naturally　sweet…tempered　and　exceedingly　charitable　in　her　judgements；　but

here；　too；　the　cat…and…dog　feud　had　its　influence。　Rosemary　Green　was　a　loyal

champion　of　the　cat　Compadre；　besides；　there　was　a　succession　of　little

irritations；　in　the　way　of　dishes　left　unwashed　and　inconspicuous　corners　left

unswept；　to　warp　her　opinion　of　Annie…Many…Ponies。



When　he　left　Rosemary　he　went　straight　down　to　where　the　chuck…wagon　stood；

and　began　to　tap　the　tires　with　a　small　rock　to　see　if　they　would　need

resetting　before　he　started　out。　He　decided　that　the　brake…blocks　would　have

to　be　replaced　with　new　onesor　at　least　reshod　with　old　boot…soles。　The

tongue　was　cracked；　too；　that　had　been　done　last　winter　when　Luck　was

producing　The　Phantom　Herd　and　had　sent　old　Dave　Wiswell　down　a　rocky　hillside

with　half…broken　bronks　harnessed　to　the　wagon；　in　a　particularly　dramatic

scene。　Applehead　went　grumblingly　in　search　of　some　baling　wire　to　wrap　the

tongue。　He　had　been　terribly　excited　and　full　of　enthusiasm　for　the　picture　at

the　time　the　tongue　was　cracked；　but　now　he　looked　upon　it　merely　as　a　vital

weakness　　in　his　roundup　outfit。　A　new　tongue　would　mean　delay；　and　delay；　in

his　present　mood；　was　tragedy。



He　couldn't　find　any　old　baling　wire；　though　he　had　long　been　accustomed　to

tangling　his　feet　in　snarled　bunches　of　it　when　he　went　forth　in　the　dark

after　a　high　wind。　Until　now　he　had　not　observed　its　unwonted　absence　from　the

yard。　For　a　long　while　he　had　not　needed　any　wire　to　mend　things；　because　Luck

had　attended　to　everything　about　the　ranch；　and　if　anything　needed　mending　he

had　set　one　of　the　Happy　Family　at　the　task。



His　search　led　him　out　beyond　the　corrals　in　the　little　dry　wash　that

sometimes　caught　and　held　what　the　high　winds　brought　rolling　that　way。　The

wash　was　half　filled　with　tumble…weed；　so　that　Applehead　was　forced　to　get

down　into　it　and　kick　the　weeds　aside　to　see　if　there　was　any　wire　lodged

beneath。　His　temper　did　not　sweeten　over　the　task；　especially　since　he　found

nothing　that　he　wanted。



Annie…Many…Ponies；　riding　surreptitiously　up　the　dry　washmeaning　to　come　out

in　a　farther　gully　and　so　approach　the　corral　from　the　west　instead　of　from

the　eastcame　upon　Applehead　quite　unexpectedly。　She　stopped　and　eyed　him

aslant　from　under　her　level；　finely　marked　brows；　and　her　eyes　lightened　with

relief　when　she　saw　that　Applehead　looked　more　startled　than　she　had　felt。

Indeed；　Applehead　had　been　calling　Luck　uncomplimentary　names　for　cleaning　the

place　of　everything　a　man　might　need　in　a　hurry；　and　he　was　ashamed　of

himself。



〃Can't　find　a　foot　of　danged　wire　on　the　danged　place！〃　Applehead　kicked　a

large；　tangled　bunch　of　weeds　under　the　very　nose　of　the　horse　which　jumped

sidewise。　　〃Never　seen　such　a　maniac　for　puttin'　things　where　a　feller　can't

find　'em；　as　what　Luck　is。〃　He　was　not　actually　speak　ing　to

Annie…Many…Poniesor　if　he　was　he　did　not　choose　to　point　his　remarks　by

glancing　at　her。



〃Wagalexa　Conka；　he　heap　careful　for　things　belong　when　they　stay；〃

Annie…Many…Ponies　observed　in　her　musical　contralto　voice　which　always

irritated　Applehead　with　its　very　melody。　〃I　think　plenty　wire　all　fold　up

neat　in　prop…room。　Wagalexa　Conka；　he　all　time　clean　this　studio　from　trash

lie　around　everywhere。〃



〃He　does；　hey？〃　Applehead's　sunburnt　mustache　bristled　like　the　whiskers　of

Compadre　when　he　was　snarling　defiance　at　the　little　black　dog。　The　feud　was

asserting　itself。　〃　Well；　this　here　danged　place　ain't　no　studio！　It's　a

ranch；　and　it　b'longs　to　ME；　Nip　Furrman。　And　any　balin'　wire　on　this　ranch　is

my　balin'　wire；　and　it's　got　a　right　to　lay　around　wherever　I　want　it　t'　lay。

And　I　don't　need　no　danged　squaw　givin'　me　hints　about　'how　my　place　oughta　be

keptnow　I'm　tellin'　yuh！〃



Annie…Many…Ponies　did　not　reply　in　words。　She　sat　on　her　horse；　straight　as

any　young　warchief　that　ever　led　her　kinsmen　to　battle；　and　looked　down　at

Applehead　with　that　maddening　half　smile　of　hers；　inscrutable　as　the　Sphinx

her　features　sometimes　resembled。　Shunka　Chistala　（which　is　Sioux　for　Little

Dog）　came　bounding　over　the　low　ridge　that　hid　the　ranch　buildings　from　sight；

and　wagged　himself　dislocatingly　up　to　her。　Annie…Many…Ponies　frowned　at　his