Good Indian Read online

  CHAPTER XIII. CLOUD-SIGN VERSUS CUPID

  Few men are ever called upon by untoward circumstance to know thesensations caused by rattlesnake bite, knife gashes, impromptucauterization, and, topping the whole, the peculiar torture of congestedveins and swollen muscles which comes from a tourniquet. Thefeeling must be unpleasant in the extreme, and the most morbid ofsensation-seekers would scarcely put himself in the way of thatparticular experience.

  Peppajee Jim, therefore, had reason in plenty for glowering at the worldas he saw it that day. He held Huckleberry rigidly down to his laziestamble that the jar of riding might be lessened, kept his injured footfree from the stirrup, and merely grunted when Good Indian asked himonce how he felt.

  When they reached the desolation of the old placer-pits, however, heturned his eyes from the trail where it showed just over Huckleberry'sears, and regarded sourly the deep gashes and dislodged bowlders whichtold where water and the greed of man for gold had raged fiercest. Then,for the first time during the whole ride, he spoke.

  "All time, yo' sleepum," he said, in the sonorous, oracular tone whichhe usually employed when a subject held his serious thought. "PeacefulHart, him all same sleepum. All same sleepum 'longside snake. No seeumsnake, no thinkum mebbyso catchum bite." He glanced down at his ownsnake-bitten foot. "Snake bite, make all time much hurt." His eyesturned, and dwelt sharply upon the face of Good Indian.

  "Yo' all time thinkum Squaw-with-sun-hair. Me tell yo' for watchum, yo'no think for watchum. Baumberga, him all same snake. Yo' think him alltime catchum fish. HUH! Yo' heap big fool, yo' thinkum cat. Rattlesnake,mebbyso sleepum in sun one time. Yo' no thinkum bueno, yo' seeum sleepin sun. Yo' heap sabe him all time kay bueno jus' same. Yo' heap sabeyo' come close, him biteum. Mebbyso biteum hard, for killum yo' alltime." He paused, then drove home his point like the true orator."Baumberga catchum fish. All same rattlesnake sleepum in sun. Kaybueno."

  Good Indian jerked his mind back from delicious recollection of onesweet, swift-passing minute, and half opened his lips for reply. Buthe did not speak; he did not know what to say, and it is ill-spenttime--that passed in purposeless speech with such as Peppajee. Peppajeeroused himself from meditation brief as it seemed deep, lifted a lean,brown hand to push back from his eyes a fallen lock of hair, and pointedstraight away to the west.

  "Las' night, sun go sleepum. Clouds come all same blanket, sun wrappumin blanket. Cloud look heap mad--mebbyso make much storm. Bimeby muchmens come in cloud, stand so--and so--and so." With pointing finger heindicated a half circle. "Otha man come, heap big man. Stoppum 'way off,all time makeum sign, for fight. Me watchum. Me set by fire, watchumcloud makeum sign. Fire smoke look up for say, 'What yo' do all time,mebbyso?' Cloud man shakeum hand, makeum much sign. Fire smoke heap sad,bend down far, lookum me, lookum where cloud look. All time lookum forPeaceful Hart ranch. Me lay down for sleepum, me dream all time muchfight. All time bad sign come. Kay bueno." Peppajee shook his headslowly, his leathery face set in deep, somber lines.

  "Much trouble come heap quick," he said gravely, hitching his blanketinto place upon his shoulder. "Me no sabe--all same, heap trouble come.Much mens, mebbyso much fight, much shootum--mebbyso kill. Peaceful Harthim all time laugh me. All same, me sabe smoke sign, sabe cloud sign,sabe--Baumberga. Heap ka-a-ay bueno!"

  Good Indian's memory dashed upon him a picture of bright moonlight andthe broody silence of a night half gone, and of a figure forming sharplyand suddenly from the black shadow of the stable and stealing away intothe sage, and of Baumberger emerging warily from that same shadow andstopping to light his pipe before he strolled on to the house and to thearmchair upon the porch.

  There might be a sinister meaning in that picture, but it was so wellhidden that he had little hope of ever finding it. Also, it occurred tohim that Peppajee, usually given over to creature comforts and the idlegossip of camp and the ranches he visited, was proving the sincerity ofhis manifest uneasiness by a watchfulness wholly at variance with hisnatural laziness. On the other hand, Peppajee loved to play the oracle,and a waving wisp of smoke, or the changing shapes in a wind-riven cloudmeant to him spirit-sent prophecies not to be ignored.

  He turned the matter over in his mind, was the victim of uneasiness forfive minutes, perhaps, and then drifted off into wondering what Evadnawas doing at that particular moment, and to planning how he shouldmanage to fall behind with her when they all rode home, and so makepossible other delicious moments. He even took note of certain sharpbends in the trail, where a couple riding fifty yards, say, behind agroup would be for the time being quite hidden from sight and toall intents and purposes alone in the world for two minutes, orthree--perhaps the time might be stretched to five.

  The ranch was quiet, with even the dogs asleep in the shade. Peppajeeinsisted in one sentence upon going straight on to camp, so they did notstop. Without speaking, they plodded through the dust up the grade, leftit, and followed the dim trail through the sagebrush and rocks to theIndian camp which seemed asleep also, except where three squaws weresquatting in the sharply defined, conical shadow of a wikiup, mumblingdesultorily the gossip of their little world, while their fingersmoved with mechanical industry--one shining black head bent over ahalf-finished, beaded moccasin, another stitching a crude gown ofbright-flowered calico, and the third braiding her hair afresh withleisurely care for its perfect smoothness. Good Indian took note ofthe group before it stirred to activity, and murmured anxiety over thebandaged foot of Peppajee.

  "Me no can watchum more, mebbyso six days. Yo' no sleepum all timeyo' walk--no thinkum all time squaw. Mebbyso yo' think for man-snake.Mebbyso yo' watchum," Peppajee said, as he swung slowly down fromHuckleberry's back.

  "All right. I'll watchum plenty," Good Indian promised lightly, gave aglance of passing, masculine interest at the squaw who was braiding herhair, and who was young and fresh-cheeked and bright-eyed and slender,forgot her the instant his eyes left her, and made haste to return tothe Malad and the girl who held all his thoughts and all his desire.

  That girl was sitting upon the rock which Donny had occupied, and shelooked very much as if she were sulking, much as Donny had sulked. Shehad her chin in a pink palm and was digging little holes in the sandwith the tip of her rod, which was not at all beneficial to the rod anddid not appear even to interest the digger; for her wonderfully blueeyes were staring at the green-and-white churn of the rapids, andher lips were pursed moodily, as if she did not even see what she waslooking at so fixedly.

  Good Indian's eyes were upon her while he was dismounting, but he didnot go to her immediately. Instead, he busied himself with unsaddling,and explained to the boys just why he had left so unaccountably.Secretly he was hoping that Evadna heard the explanation, and he raisedhis voice purposely. But Evadna was not listening, apparently; and, ifshe had been, the noise of the rapids would have prevented her hearingwhat he said.

  Miss Georgie Howard was frying fish and consistently snubbingBaumberger, who hulked loosely near the campfire, and between puffsat his pipe praised heavily her skill, and professed to own a ravenousappetite. Good Indian heard him as he passed close by them, and heardalso the keen thrust she gave in return; and he stopped and halfturned, looking at her with involuntary appreciation. His glance tookin Baumberger next, and he lifted a shoulder and went on. Withoutintentionally resorting to subterfuge, he felt an urge to wash hishands, and he chose for his ablutions that part of the river's edgewhich was nearest Evadna.

  First he stooped and drank thirstily, his hat pushed back, while hislips met full the hurrying water, clear and cold, yet with the chill ithad brought from the mountain springs which fed it, and as he lifted hishead he looked full at her.

  Evadna stared stonily over him to where the water boiled fastest. Hemight have been one of the rocks, for all the notice she took of him.

  Good Indian frowned with genuine puzzlement, and began slowly to washhis hands, glancing at her often in hope that he might meet her eyes.When she did not seem to see him at all, the smile of a s
ecret sharedjoyously with her died from his own eyes, and when he had dried hishands upon his handkerchief he cast aside his inward shyness in thepresence of the Hart boys and Miss Georgie and Baumberger, and wentboldly over to her.

  "Aren't you feeling well?" he asked, with tender proprietorship in histone.

  "I'm feeling quite well, thank you," returned Evadna frigidly,neglecting to look at him.

  "What is the matter, then? Aren't you having a good time?"

  "I'm enjoying myself very much--except that your presence annoys me. Iwish you'd go away."

  Good Indian turned on his heel and went; he felt that at last Evadna waslooking at him, though he would not turn to make sure. And his instincttold him withal that he must ignore her mood if he would win her fromit. With a freakish impulse, he headed straight for the campfire andMiss Georgie, but when he came up to her the look she gave him ofunderstanding, with sympathy to soften it, sent him away again withoutspeaking.

  He wandered back to the river's edge--this time some distance fromwhere Evadna sat--and began throwing pebbles at the black nose of awave-washed bowlder away toward the other side. Clark and Gene, loiteredup, watched him lazily, and, picking up other pebbles, started to dothe same thing. Soon all the boys were throwing at the bowlder, and weremaking a good deal of noise over the various hits and misses, and thespirit of rivalry waxed stronger and stronger until it was like anyother game wherein full-blooded youths strive against one another forsupremacy. They came to the point of making bets, at first extravagantand then growing more and more genuinely in earnest, for we're gamblersall, at heart.

  Miss Georgie burned a frying-panful of fish until they sent up an acrid,blue smoke, while she ran over to try her luck with a stone or two. EvenBaumberger heaved himself up from where he was lounging, and strolledover to watch. But Evadna could not have stuck closer to her rock if shehad been glued there, and if she had been blind and deaf she would nothave appeared more oblivious.

  Good Indian grew anxious, and then angry. The savage stirred withinhim, and counseled immediate and complete mastery of her--his woman.But there was the white man of him who said the thought was brutal andunchivalrous, and reminded the savage that one must not look upon awoman as a chattel, to be beaten or caressed, as the humor seized themaster. And, last of all, there was the surface of him laughing with theothers, jeering at those who fell short of the mark, and striving hisutmost to be first of them all in accuracy.

  He even smiled upon Miss Georgie when she hit the bowlder fairly, and,when the stench of the burning fish drifted over to them, he gave hissupply of pebbles into her two hands, and ran to the rescue. He caughtEvadna in the act of regarding him sidelong, just as a horse sometimeswill keep an eye on the man with the rope in a corral; so he knew shewas thinking of him, at least, and was wondering what he meant to donext, and the savage in him laughed and lay down again, knowing himselfthe master.

  What he did was to throw away the burnt fish, clean the frying-pan, andstart more sizzling over the fire, which he kicked into just the rightcondition. He whistled softly to himself while he broke dry sticksacross his knee for the fire, and when Miss Georgie cried out that shehad made three hits in succession, he called back: "Good shot!" andtook up the tune where he had left off. Never, for one instant, was heunconscious of Evadna's secret watchfulness, and never, for one instant,did he let her see that she was in his thoughts.

  He finished frying the fish, set out the sandwiches and doughnuts, andpickled peaches and cheese, and pounded upon a tin plate to announcethat dinner was ready. He poured the coffee into the cups held out tohim, and got the flask of cream from a niche between two rocks at thewater's edge. He said "Too bad," when it became generally known that theglare of the sun upon the water had given Evadna a headache, and he saidit exactly as he would have spoken if Jack, for instance, had upset thesugar.

  He held up the broken-handled butcher knife that was in the camp kit,and declaimed tragically: "Is this a dagger that I see before me?" andmuch more of the kind that was eery. He saw the reluctant dimple whichshowed fleetingly in Evadna's cheek, and also the tears which swelledher eyelids immediately after, but she did not know that he saw them,though another did.

  He was taken wholly by surprise when Miss Georgie, walking past himafterward on her way to an enticing pool, nipped his arm for attentionand murmured:

  "You're doing fine--only don't overdo it. She's had just about all shecan stand right now. Give her a chance to forgive you--and let her thinkshe came out ahead! Good luck!" Whereupon she finished whatever shepretended to have been doing to her fishing-tackle, and beckoned Wallyand Jack to come along.

  "We've just got to catch that big one," she laughed, "so Mr. Baumbergercan go home and attend to his own business!" It took imagination to feelsure there had been a significant accent on the last of the sentence,and Baumberger must have been imaginative. He lowered his head likea bull meditating assault, and his leering eyes shot her a glance ofinquiry and suspicion. But Miss Georgie Howard met his look with a smilethat was nothing more than idle amusement.

  "I'd like nothing better than to get that four-pounder on my line," sheadded. "It would be the joke of the season--if a woman caught him."

  "Bet you couldn't land him," chuckled Baumberger, breathing a sigh whichmight have been relief, and ambled away contentedly. "I may not see youfolks again till supper," he bethought him to call back. "I'm going tocatch a dozen more--and then I thought I'd take 'em up to Pete Hamilton;I'm using his horse, yuh see, and--" He flung out a hand to round offthe sentence, turned, and went stumbling over a particularly rockyplace.

  Miss Georgie stood where she was, and watched him with her mouth twistedto one side and three perpendicular creases between her eyebrows. Whenhe was out of sight, she glanced at Evadna--once more perched sulkilyupon the rock.

  "Head still bad, chicken?" she inquired cheerfully. "Better stay here inthe shade--I won't be gone long."

  "I'm going to fish," said Evadna, but she did not stir, not even whenMiss Georgie went on, convoyed by all the Hart boys.

  Good Indian had volunteered the information that he was going to fishdownstream, but he was a long time in tying his leader and fussing withhis reel. His preparations were finished just when the last stragglerof the group was out of sight. Then he laid down his rod, went over toEvadna, took her by the arm, and drew her back to the farther shelter ofthe ledge.

  "Now, what's the trouble?" he asked directly. "I hope you're not tryingto make yourself think I was only--You know what I meant, don't you? Andyou said yes. You said it with your lips, and with your eyes. Did youwant more words? Tell me what it is that bothers you."

  There was a droop to Evadna's shoulders, and a tremble to her mouth.She would not look at him. She kept her eyes gazing downward, perhapsto hide tears. Good Indian waited for her to speak, and when it seemedplain that she did not mean to do so, he yielded to his instinct andtook her in his arms.

  "Sweetheart!" he murmured against her ear, and it was the first timehe had ever spoken the word to any woman. "You love me, I know it. Youwon't say it, but I know you do. I should have felt it this morning ifyou hadn't cared. You--you let me kiss you. And--"

  "And after that you--you rode off and left me--and you went away byyourself, just as if--just as if nothing had happened, and you've actedever since as if--" She bit her lips, turned her face away from him,plucked at his hands to free herself from his clasping arms, and thenshe laid her face down against him, and sobbed.

  Good Indian tried his best to explain his mood and his actions thatday, and if he did not make himself very clear--which could scarcelybe expected, since he did not quite understand it himself--he at leastsucceeded in lifting from her the weight of doubt and of depression.

  They were astonished when Wally and Jack and Miss Georgie suddenlyconfronted them and proved, by the number of fish which they carried,that they had been gone longer than ten minutes or so. They were red asto their faces, and embarrassed as to manner, and Good Indian went awayhur
riedly after the horses, without meeting the quizzical glances of theboys, or replying t to certain pointed remarks which they fired afterhim.

  "And he's the buckaroo that's got no use for girls!" commented Wally,looking after him, and ran his tongue meditatively along the loose edgeof his cigarette. "Kid, I wish you'd tell me how you done it. It workedquick, anyhow."

  "And thorough," grinned Jack. "I was thinking some of falling in lovewith you myself, Vad. Soon as some of the shine wore off, and you got soyou acted like a real person."

  "I saw it coming, when it first heaved in sight," chirped Miss Georgie,in a more cheerful tone than she had used that day; in too cheerful atone to be quite convincing, if any one there had been taking notice ofmere tones.