Adventure Magazine, December 10, 1924 — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

The Homesteaders ones and mostly found in folks’ ’magina- tion; but he’s always loyal.’ “Yes, sir. And probably this very minute some old friend is asking another— ‘“*Wonder where loyal old Mose is to- night?’ “Why, Miss Martha, we’re like as two gloves in our natures. Well, let’s eat.”’ “‘M’m’selle,” timidly began Baptiste, “T make no offense. But tne man Page. I do not know if I like.” “T carry no pipes for him,” said Martha. “T don’t like nor dislike. He is not what he wants you to think he 1s.” “‘Mercé. Old Papa has read many signs for many winter counts. But that man is something he can not read.”’ ‘“‘He’s a cussed fraud,” warmly declared Shanty Mose. ‘He ain’t no more of a grass farmer than I be. He’s hiding from something. I can read him like an open book. Putting on airs about his piloting days! Bah! I don’t say he ain’t worked on the river, but he’d never drift ’way down to Blue Earth County if his slate was clean. No, sir!” Miss Martha ended these references to Page by quietly informing him— ‘Sioux men are coming.” Papa Baptiste darted a glance toward the west. Martha nodded; then called out— ‘“‘Are the Dakota men afraid of the fire?”’ Four Indians, all young men, emerged from the growth and slowly came to the fire. Each carried a gun. Mose eyed them sharply, but Baptiste and Martha gave them no particular heed. They squatted in a row a short distance from the tire and glared hungrily at the food. Mar- tha gave them a loaf of bread and a lump of black maple sugar and said— “Shakopee’s hunters go to the Big Woodse’” One of them tapped his gun, then threw it aside and replied: “The hunting is bad. When our fathers were young it was good. The white people cut down the woods and drive game away.”’ “Chetan Wakan Mani told his Dakota brothers to sell the land to the whites,” Martha reminded them. They had nothing to say to this but bolted their bread and sugar and waited for more. She asked: “Which of you is Brown Wing? You, the medicine woman thinks.”’ And she looked at the one who had spoken. 77 “He is Brown Wing,” said one of the others as the hunter made no move to acknowledge his name. . “T carry a talk from the white trader Jones to Brown Wing. You know what it is. New grass has come twice. He does not care to wait any longer.” Brown Wing sullenly replied: “The gun was bad. Brown Wing threw it away.” Martha stared at him thoughtfully, then gazed at his companions and said: “‘The medicine woman sees Killing Ghost and Breaking Up. Who is the other hunter?” Brown Wing answered— _ “Runs against Something When Crawl- ing.” ‘“‘Pa-zo-i-yo-pa,”’ she repeated in Santee. “‘The name will be remembered. Let the hunters keep away from the trader until the gun is found and taken back. He is very strong, very brave. The woods are big. Let the hunters keep away. There is no more bread and sugar for you.” They rose and with Brown Wing in the lead walked into the woods. Shanty Mose indignantly exclaimed: “That’s the Injun of it! Beg for victuals; then hoof it without even a thank-you!” “Ld, la, m’steurl’ said Papa Baptiste with a chuckle. ‘The Dakota never thank for food. They do not be polite when beg- ging from each other. Why should they be polite to white folks?” lava THE remaining distance to Acton Sessa Township was split into two easy marches to accommodate Mose, who traveled afoot most of the time, although Baptiste offered to share his rugged pony. — When within a few miles of the Baker place they met two hunters who told Mar- tha that twenty of Shakopee’s band were in the woods, hunting in small parties. Toward noon of Sunday, the seventeenth of August, the three were in the Pembina trail that passed from east to west within a few feet of the Baker house. Martha, who was in the lead, halted her horse and tilted her head to listen. Baptiste whispered— “Indians are talking, m’m’selle.”’ “The trader is angry,’ murmured Martha. “Will he sell them rum?” asked Mose. Without answering him Martha turned from the trail, dismounted and led the way Comicbool< Wh) C© =