Adventure Magazine Cover — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

Pay Gravel s head are Taku wakan—most mysterious and wonderful. I dream of hawks, which is very lucky,” proudly retorted Scissors. ‘“‘Now we must get back to the horses and ride fast. For there’s another gorge ahead and it’s possible Sore-head will begin to suspect we’re off the road and ride down the gorge to head us off. I shall feel better when we are beyond it.” . The gorge was reached and passed with no signs of the hard-riding horsemen. Dins- dale became absent-minded and it was some time before he gave his companion any attention. Scissors’ simple face was very grave and he was studying the surroundings sharply. “You seem to know lots about Injuns,” complimented Dinsdale, now throwing off his own abstraction. “My mind is half red,” murmured Scis- sors. “Do you see anything to put you on edge?” “T see nothing, but I feel. I'm wakan— I feel things before they happen.” “Sore-head has guessed our trick?” “T feel red. It’s Indians I feel. They’re very bold. They think they’ve whipped all our soldiers. They’ve made up songs about Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. There must be a big band quite close to the hills.” “Nonsense,” scoffed Dinsdale. 3 Then he remembered the warrior he had shot between the Spring and the Rapid, and the arrow he had picked up near Custer’s peak. If one or two braves would penetrate that far why be sceptical as to a much larger number venturing into the foothills? “T take that back, Scissors. I reckon you know more about Injuns than I'll ever know.” “T have been in the ghost-lodge of the _ Ogalala and watched them bury the red cloth to please Unktelii, the water god, and his wife, the earth spirit. I have watched the circle ‘dance, when they sang their songs to the Wakinyan, the thunderers. Many red men believe the white men are whipped and these hills are at their mercy. I dreamed of a thunderstorm a few nights ago. That means a fight.” “Your mind is red, all right.” “T refuse to believe many superstitions of the white men. Ahead is a branch of the Box Elder; we can camp there.” They crossed the head of the branch and SFP at an Re pees at NE oe Se oie ore*. os x “> 3 “ ~ halted at a bend where Dinsdale found the charred sticks of old camp-fires. Scissors picked up a rusty hunting-knife and some empty cartridge shells. - “Not Indiany’ he said. “Too many fires. Too big. This must be where the Custer expedition camped in Seventy-four on its outward trip from the hills.” To the east was a long ridge and beyond that the plains began. The influence of the plains was also noticeable in the wild rye, - 89 - wild oats and others of the taller grasses » that grew on the long slope descending to the east. In the west, and only a few miles distant, extended the limestone ridges and hills. The travelers refrained from making a fire until after sunset for fear the smoke might be seen by their pursuers. They dined on cooked meat and bread brought from Calvin’s eating-house. After filling his pipe Dinsdale endeavored to learn some- thing more about his companion’s experi- ence when a captive of the Indians, also something about his earlier antecedents, his birthplace, and the extent of his school- ing. But Scissors for once was not respon- sive. He idly snipped pictures of animals out of paper and explained they were lesser wakandas. When pressed for his private history he showed impatience, and an- swered: “T forget. It was a very long time ago— before I became wakan witshasha. A mys- tery man forgets useless things. See, now; a new picture. I could always do it.” And folding the paper several times he worked with his usual quickness and then opened the paper to disclose a chain of horsemen, the*horses going at a mad gallop. “The fellows we saw riding up the stage- road,”’ said Dinsdale. “Tf I could meet some of them in San Juan’s place I could get a dollar for it,” mused Scissors as he carefully refolded the strip of figures. “Old Calvin wanted me to pay him a percentage for all I sold in the gambling-hall. I wouldn’t do it. The girl dealing Twenty-one wouldn’t let him order me out. I hope nothing happens to Sitting Bull while I’m gone. ‘The Chinese cook said he would feed him just as I told him to. I think he will; he’s afraid of me. Calls me a ‘devil-man.’ I told him if the owl wasn’t all right when I got back I’d make many pictures of him without his queue. He squealed like a rat. Ah! I hear an owl now. Some one’s ghost is trying to tell me things.” Eomichbooks co ‘ye ae SF ae Peshaly ; - T “ wos > ae ay yi