Tonio, Son of the Sierras: A Story of the Apache WarKing, Charles
General
Tonio, Son of the Sierras: A Story of the Apache War
King, Charles
Apache Indians -- Wars, 1872-1873 -- Fiction; Soldiers -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction; Western stories
the wild exhilaration, to dance incessantly, with man after man who
sought her, though few had opportunity owing to his persistence. And
she had been dancing incessantly, as we danced in those days--galop,
deux temps, redowa, waltz, the long, undulating, luxurious, sensuous
sweep of the "glide," and men and women stood and watched them, time
and again, when Willett claimed her--and he hardly had look or word for
others--so wondrous was that harmony of motion, that grace and beauty
of feature and of form. Then at last came exhaustion.
There were some little clumps of cedars on the slope just south of the
assembly hall, as it stood there on the low ground midway between the
head-quarters houses on the ridge to the south, and the even less
commodious cottages of the puny garrison. There was a boardwalk of
creaking pine, leading across the shallow ravine, for it sometimes
rained up here in the mountains, though it never seemed to in the deep,
arid valleys to the east. Then there was a gravel path stretching away
toward the garrison houses north and north-east, and one, still
narrower and crookeder, winding up among the pines and cedars and
disappearing over the top of the knoll, where the broad veranda of the
general's mansion overlooked the entire scene. Sometimes when the
evenings were warm and the dancers flushed, and sometimes even when
there was no such excuse, young couples were wont to saunter out in the
starlight for air and sentiment and "spooning." Already Willett knew
the labyrinth, and welcomed the excuse to lead her forth, his arm
almost supporting her. It was about eleven. The elders were absorbing
mild refreshments at the moment. The musicians were glad of a rest, a
sandwich and a cup of coffee, and a puff at a pipe before again
resuming their melodious, if monotonous, labor. The windows of the
assembly room were so near the ground that it was easy for these who
did not attend the dances to supervise from without, and it often
happened that a fringe of respectfully admiring spectators would
surround the building until the late roll-call summoned the soldier
circle away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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