Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 140: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

130 An Indian Brave. His mind at once flew to the massacre of dash- ing General Custer and his command on the Little Big Horn, a horror still fresh in the minds of all those upon the border, and the conviction grew that Standing Elk must have participated in this dreadful battle. The old chief came out and greeted him with.a cheerful “How!” That one word can be made to signify almost every emotion from anger to delight, when falling from an Indian’s lips. Cuthbert gravely shook hands with the chief, whom contact with the whites had given advantages not possessed by all his tribes. He could even swear a little on a pinch, and loved gold because it represented more tobacco and fire water. Cuthbert drew him into conversation, and instead of answering his questions with grunts and shrugs, as usually an Indian will, Standing Elk descended from his dignity and even strung a few words to- gether after his own peculiar fashion. “Am I a prisoner?’ demanded the boy. “P’raps,” said the chief, with a grin. “You have taken me away from my people and against my will. I don’t understand it all. What have I ever done to you, chief?” , “Nice white boy, make um big brave.” Cuthbert should have been flattered, but just at the time he felt only indignant. “But I don’t want to be a big brave—I prefer to be with Karl—you have no right to keep me here against my will,” he said, defiantly. The old chief shrugged his shoulders. “Me wanted Karl—he too quick with shoot. Nother time, mebbe.”’ There was apparently little satisfaction to be got- ten out of this stubborn old fellow, who had been ConnicloOolkkS.c©