The Price of the Prairie: A Story of KansasMcCarter, Margaret Hill
General
The Price of the Prairie: A Story of Kansas
McCarter, Margaret Hill
Kansas -- Fiction; Western stories
up and alert in the deeper shadow of the bluff side of the road. I knew
instinctively that it was Jean Pahusca, and that he had not been
expecting me to be there after my call and had failed to notice me in
his eagerness to creep unseen down the slope. Sometimes in these later
years in a great football game I have watched the Haskell Indians
crawling swiftly up and down the side-lines following the surge of the
players on the gridiron, and I always think of Jean as he crept down the
hill that night. It was late October and the frost was glistening, but I
pulled off my boots in a moment and silently followed the fellow. Inside
the fence near Marjie's window was a big circle of lilac bushes,
transplanted years ago from the old Ohio home of the Whatelys. Inside
this clump Jean crept, and I knew by the quiet crackle of twigs and dead
leaves he was making his bed there. My first thought was to drag him out
and choke him. And then my better judgment prevailed. I slipped away to
find O'mie for a council.
"Phil, I'd like to kill him wid a hoe, same as Marjie did that other
rattlesnake that had Jim Conlow charmed an' flutterin' toward his pisen
fangs, only we'd better wait a bit. By Saint Patrick, Philip, we can't
hang up his hide yet awhoile. I know what the baste's up to annyhow."
"Well, what is it?" I queried eagerly.
"He's bein' a good Injun he is, an' he's got a crude sort o' notion he's
protectin' that dear little bird. She may be scared o' him, an' he knows
it; but bedad, I'd not want to be the border ruffian that went prowlin'
in there uninvited; would you?"
"Well, he's a dear trusty old Fido of a watchdog, O'mie. We will take
Father Le Claire's word, and keep an eye on him though. He will sleep
where he will sleep, but we'll see if the sight of water affects him
any. A dog of his breed may be subject to rabies. You can't always trust
even a 'good Injun.'"
After that I watched for Jean's coming and followed him to his lilac
bed, a half-savage, half-educated Indian brave, foolishly hoping to win
a white girl for his own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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