Down at the cabin a sound--a cry, a shout--startled her. She brushed her hand across her eyes and looked down. There, surrounding the cabin, were the Happy Family, and old Applehead whom she hated because he hated her. And in their midst stood Bill Holmes and Luis, and the setting sun shone on something bright--like great silver rings--that clasped their wrists. Coming up the hill toward her was Wagalexa Conka, climbing swiftly, looking up as he came. Annie-Many-Ponies sprang to her feet, startling the little black dog that gave a yelp of astonishment. Came he in peace? She hesitated, watching him unwinkingly. Something swelled in her chest until she could hardly breathe, and then fluttered there like a prisoned bird. “COLA!” she gasped, just under her breath, and raised her hand in the outward, sweeping gesture that spoke peace. “You theenk to fix trap, you--!” She whirled and faced Ramon, whose eyes blazed bate and murder and whose tongue spoke the foulness of his soul. He flung out his arm fiercely and thrust her aside. “Me, I kill that dam--” He did not say any more, and the six-shooter he had levelled at Luck dropped from his nerveless hand like a coiled adder, Annie-Many-Ponies had struck. Like an avenging spirit she pulled the knife free and held it high over her head, facing Luck who stared up at her from below. He thought the look in her eyes was fear of him and of the law, and he lifted his hand and gave back the peace-sign. It was for him she had killed and she should not be punished if he could save her. But Luck failed to read her look aright; it was not fear he saw, but farewell. For with her free hand she made the sign of peace and farewell--and then the knife descended straight as a plummet to her heart. But even as she fell she spurned the dead Ramon with her feet, so that he rolled a little way while the black dog growled at him with bared teeth; even in death she would not touch him who had been so foul. Luck ran the last few, steep steps, and took her in his arms. His eyes were blurred so that he could not see her face, and his voice shook so that he could scarcely form the words that brushed back death from her soul and brought a smile to her eyes. “Annie--little sister!” Annie-Many-Ponies raised one creeping hand, groping until her fingers touched his face. “Wagalexa Conka--cola!” He took her fingers and for an instant, while she yet could feel, he laid them against his lips. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Heritage of the Sioux, by B.M. Bower