The buck sat down upon the ground in front of Felipa and considered her.
By the etiquette of the tribe she could not ask him his name, but the
boy, her protégé, told her that it was Alchesay. All the afternoon he
hung around the camp, taciturn, apparently aimless, while she went about
her usual amusements and slept in the tent. Once in a way he spoke to
her in Spanish. And for days thereafter, as they moved up along the
rough and dangerous road,--where the wagon upset with monotonous
regularity, big and heavy though it was,--he appeared from time to time.
For some days Felipa had noticed a change, indefinable and slight, yet
still to be felt, in the manner of the Indians all about. Not that they
were ever especially gracious, but now the mothers discouraged the
children from playing hide-and-seek with her, and although there were
quite as many squaws, fewer bucks came around than before. But Alchesay
could always be relied upon to stalk in, at regular intervals, and seat
himself near the fire, or the hot ashes thereof.
They had been four days camping on Black River, a mountain stream
rushing between the steep hills, with the roar of a Niagara, hunting
deer and small game, fishing with indifferent success,--to the disgust
of the Apaches, who would much rather have eaten worms than fish,--and
entertaining visitors. There were any number of these. One party had
come out from Fort Apache, another from a camp of troops on the New
Mexico road, and some civilians from Boston, who were in search of a
favorable route for a projected railway.
In the opinion of Landor, who knew the impracticable country foot for
foot, they were well-intentioned lunatics. But they were agreeable
guests, who exchanged the topics of the happy East for the wild turkey
and commissary supplies of the Far West, and in departing took with them
a picturesque, if inexact, notion of army life on the frontier, and left
behind a large number of books for Felipa, who had dazzled their
imaginations.
She had read one of the books one afternoon when she was left alone,
until the sun began to sink behind the mountain tops, and the cook to
drag branches to the fire preparatory to getting supper. Then she marked
her place with a twig, and rose up from the ground to go to the tent and
dress, against Landor's return. The squaws and bucks who had been all
day wandering around the outskirts of the camp, speaking together in low
voices, and watching the cook furtively, crowded about the opening.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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