The Heritage of the Sioux Read online

  CHAPTER IV. LOVE WORDS FOR ANNIE

  In Tijeras Arroyo the moon made black shadows where stood the tinyknolls here and there, marking frequently the windings of dry washeswhere bushes grew in ragged patches and where tall weeds of mid-Maytangled in the wind. The roundup tents of the Flying U Feature FilmCompany stood white as new snow in the moonlight, though daylight showedthem an odd, light-blue tint for photographic purposes. On a fartherslope cunningly placed by the scenic artist to catch the full sunlightof midday, the camp of the Chavez brothers gleamed softly in the magiclight.

  So far had spring roundup progressed that Luck was holding the camp inTijeras Arroyo for picture-making only. Applehead's calves were branded,to the youngest pair of knock-kneed twins which Happy Jack found curledup together cunningly hidden in a thicket. They had been honored with a"close-up" scene, those two spotted calves, and were destined to furtherhonors which they did not suspect and could not appreciate.

  They slept now, as slept the two camps upon the two slopes that laymoon-bathed at midnight. Back where the moon was making the barrenmountains a wonderland of deep purple and black and silvery gray andbrown, a coyote yapped a falsetto message and was answered by one nearerat hand--his mate, it might be. In a bush under the bank that made ofit a black blot in the unearthly whiteness of the sand, a littlebird fluttered uneasily and sent a small, inquiring chirp into thestillness. From somewhere farther up the arroyo drifted a faint,aromatic odor of cigarette smoke.

  Had you been there by the bush you could not have told whenAnnie-Many-Ponies passed by; you would not have seen her--certainly youcould not have heard the soft tread of her slim, moccasined feet. Yetshe passed the bush and the bank and went away up the arroyo, silent asthe shadows themselves, swift as the coyote that trotted over a nearbyridge to meet her mate nearer the mountains. Sol following much the sameinstinct in much the same way, Annie-Many-Ponies stole out to meet theman her heart timidly yearned for a possible mate.

  She reached the rock-ledge where the smoke odor was strongest, and shestopped. She saw Ramon Chavez, younger of the Chavez brothers who wereten-mile-off neighbors of Applehead, and who owned many cattle and muchland by right of an old Spanish grant. He was standing in the shadow ofthe ledge, leaning against it as they of sun-saturated New Mexico alwayslean against anything perpendicular and solid near which they happen tostand. He was watching the white-lighted arroyo while he smoked, waitingfor her, unconscious of her near presence.

  Annie-Many-Ponies stood almost within reach of him, but she did not makeher presence known. With the infinite wariness of her race she waited tosee what he would do; to read, if she might, what were his thoughts--hisattitude toward her in his unguarded moments. That little, inscrutablesmile which so exasperated Applehead was on her lips while she watchedhim.

  Ramon finished that cigarette, threw away the stab and rolled andlighted another. Still Annie-Many-Ponies gave no little sign of herpresence. He watched the arroyo, and once he leaned to one side andstared back at his own quiet camp on the slope that had the biggest andthe wildest mountain of that locality for its background. He settledhimself anew with his other shoulder against the rock, and mutteredsomething in Spanish--that strange, musical talk which Annie-Many-Poniescould not understand. And still she watched him, and exulted in hisimpatience for her coming, and wondered if it would always be lovelightwhich she would see in his eyes.

  He was not of her race, though in her pride she thought him favored whenshe named him akin to the Sioux. He was not of her race, but he was talland he was straight, he was dark as she, he was strong and brave and hebad many cattle and much broad acreage. Annie-Many-Ponies smiled uponhim in the dark and was glad that she, the daughter of a chief of theSioux, had been found good in his sight.

  Five minutes, ten minutes. The coyote, yap-yap-yapping in the brokenland beyond them, found his mate and was silent. Ramon Chavez, waitingin the shadow of the ledge, muttered a Mexican oath and stepped out intothe moonlight and stood there, tempted to return to his camp--for he,also, had pride that would not bear much bruising.

  Annie-Many-Ponies waited. When he muttered again and threw his cigarettefrom him as though it had been something venomous; when he turned hisface toward his own tents and took a step forward, she laughed softly, amere whisper of amusement that might have been a sleepy breeze stirringthe bushes somewhere near. Ramon started and turned his face her way;in the moonlight his eyes shone with a certain love-hunger whichAnnie-Many-Ponies exulted to see--because she did not understand.

  "You not let moon look on you," she chided in an undertone, hersentences clipped of superfluous words as is the Indian way, her voicethat pure, throaty melody that is a gift which nature gives lavishly tothe women of savage people. "Moon see, men see."

  Ramon swung back into the shadow, reached out his two arms to fold herclose and got nothing more substantial than another whispery laugh.

  "Where are yoh,sweetheart?" He peered into the shadow where she hadbeen, and saw the place empty. He laughed, chagrined by her elusiveness,yet hungering for her the more.

  "You not touch," she warned. "Till priest say marriage prayers, no mantouch."

  He called her a devil in Spanish, and she thought it a love-word andlaughed and came nearer. He did not attempt to touch her, and so,reassured, she stood close so that he could see the pure, Indian profileof her face when she raised it to the sky in a mute invocation, it mightbe, of her gods.

  "When yoh come?" he asked swiftly, his race betrayed in tone and accent."I look and look--I no see yoh."

  "I come," she stated with a quiet meaning. "I not like cow, for makeplenty noise. I stand here, you smoke two times, I look."

  "You mus' be moonbeam," he told her, reaching out again, only to layhold upon nothing. "Come back, sweetheart. I be good."

  "I not like you touch," she repeated. "I good girl. I mind priest, Iread prayers, I mind Wagalexa Conka--" There she faltered, for the lastboast was no longer the truth.

  Ramon was quick to seize upon the one weak point of her armor. "So? Hesend yoh then to talk with Ramon at midnight? Yoh come to please yohboss?"

  Annie-Many-Ponies turned her troubled face his way. "Wagalexa Conkasleep plenty. I not ask," she confessed. "You tell me come here you tellme must talk when no one hear. I come. I no ask Wagalexa Conka--him saygood girl stay by camp. Him say not walk in night-time, say me not talkyou. I no ask; I just come."

  "Yoh lov' him, perhaps? More as yoh lov' me? Always I see yoh look athim--always watch, watch. Always I see yoh jomp when he snap the finger;always yoh run like train dog. Yoh lov' him, perhaps? Bah! Yoh dirtonder his feet." Ramon did not seriously consider that any woman whomhe favored could sanely love another man more than himself, but tohis nature jealousy was a necessary adjunct of lovemaking; not tohave displayed jealousy would have been to betray indifference, as heinterpreted the tender passion.

  Annie-Many-Ponies, woman-wily though she was by nature, had littlelearning in the devious ways of lovemaking. Eyes might speak, smilesmight half reveal, half hide her thoughts; but the tongue, as her tribehad taught her sternly, must speak the truth or keep silent. Now shebent her head, puzzling how best to put her feelings toward Luck Lindsayinto honest words which Ramon would understand.

  "Yoh lov' him, perhaps--since yoh all time afraid he be mad." Ramonpersisted, beating against the wall of her Indian taciturnity whichalways acted as a spur upon his impetuosity. Besides, it was importantto him that he should know just what was the tie between these two. Hehad heard Luck Lindsay speak to the girl in the Sioux tongue. He hadseen her eyes lighten as she made swift answer. He had seen her alwayseager to do Luck's bidding--had seen her anticipate his wants andminister to them as though it was her duty and her pleasure to do so.It was vital that he should know, and it was certain that he could notquestion Luck upon the subject--for Ramon Chavez was no fool.

  "Long time ago--when I was papoose with no shoes," she began withseeming irrelevance, her eyes turning instinctively toward the whitetents of the Fly
ing U camp gleaming in the distance, "my people go forwork in Buffalo Bill show. My father go, my mother go, I go. All time wedance for show, make Indian fight with cowboys--all them act for BuffaloBill-Pawnee Bill show. That time Wagalexa Conka boss of Indians. HeIndian Agent. He take care whole bunch. He make peace when fights, hegive med'cine when somebody sick. He awful good to them Indians. He giveme candy, always stop to talk me. I like him. My father like him. Allthem Indians like him plenty much. My father awful sick one time, he nolet doctor come. Leg broke all in pieces. He say die plenty if WagalexaConka no make well. I go ticket wagon, tell Wagalexa Conka, he comequick, fix up leg all right.

  "All them Indians like to make him--" She stopped, searching her mindfor the elusive, little-used word which she had learned in the missionschool. "Make him sdop'," she finished triumphantly. "Indians make muchdance, plenty music, lots speeches make him Indian man. My father bigchief, he make Wagalexa Conka him son. Make him my brother. Give himIndian name Wagalexa Conka. All Indians call that name for him.

  "Pretty soon show stop, all them Indians go home by reservation. longtime we don't see Wagalexa Conka no more. I get big girl, go schoollittle bit. Pretty soon Wagalexa Conka come back, for wants them Indiansfor work in pictures. My father go, my mother go, all us go. We worklong time. I," she added with naive pride in her comeliness, "awful goodlooking. I do lots of foreground stuff. Pretty soon hard times come.Indians go home by reservation. I go--I don't like them reservations nomore. Too lonesome. I like for work all time in pictures. I come, tellWagalexa Conka I be Indian girl for pictures. He write letter for agent,write letter for my father. They writes letter for say yes, I stay. Istay and do plenty more foreground stuff."

  "I don't see you do moch foreground work since that white girl come,"Ramon observed, hitting what he instinctively knew was a tender point.

  Had he seen her face, he must have been satisfied that the chance shotstruck home. But in the shadow hate blazed unseen from her eyes. She didnot speak, and so he went back to his first charge.

  "All this don't tell me moch," he complained. "Yoh lov' him, maybe?That's what I ask."

  "Wagalexa Conka my brother, my father, my friend," she replied calmly,and let him interpret it as he would.

  "He treats yoh like a dog. He crazee 'bout that Jean. He gives her allsmiles, all what yoh call foreground stuff. I know--I got eyes. Me, itmakes me mad for see how he treat yoh--and yoh so trying hard alwaysto Please. He got no heart for yoh--me, I see that." He moved a stepcloser, hesitating, wanting yet not quite daring to touch her. "Me, Ilov' yoh, little Annie," he murmured. "Yoh lov' me little bit, eh? Jus'little bit! Jus' for say, 'Ramon, I go weeth yoh, I be yoh woman--'"

  Annie-Many-Ponies widened the distance between them. "Why you not saywife?" she queried suspiciously.

  "Woman, wife, sweetheart--all same," he assured her with his voice likea caress. "All words mean I lov' yoh jus' same. Now yoh say yoh lov' me,say yoh go weeth me, I be one happy man. I go back on camp and my heartshe's singing lov' song. My girl weeth eyes that shine so bright, shelov' me moch as I lov' her. That what my heart she sing. Yoh not be socruel like stone--yoh say, 'Ramon, I lov' yoh.' Jus' like that! So easyto say!"

  "Not easy," she denied, moved to save her freedom yet a while longer."I say them words, then I--then I not be same girl like now. Maybe muchtroubles come. Maybe much happy--I dunno. Lots time I see plenty troublecome for girl that say them words for man. Some time plenty happy--Ithink trouble comes most many times. I think Wagalexa Conka he be awfulmad. I not like for hims be mad."

  "Now you make ME mad--Ramon what loves yoh! Yoh like for Ramon be mad,perhaps? Always yoh 'fraid Luck Lindsay this, 'fraid Luck that other.Me, I gets damn' sick hear that talk all time. Bimeby he marree som'girl, then what for you? He don' maree yoh, eh? He don' lov' yoh; hethink too good for maree Indian girl. Me, I not think like that. I,Ramon Chavez, I think proud to lov, yoh. Ramon--"

  "I not think Wagalexa Conka marry me." The girl was turning stubbornunder his importunities. "Wagalexa Conka my brother--my friend. I tellyou plenty time. Now I tell no more."

  "Ramon loves yoh so moch," he pleaded, and smiled to himself when he sawher turn toward toward him again. The love-talk--that was what a womanlikes best to hear! "Yoh say yoh lov' Ramon jus' little bit!"

  "I not say now. When I say I be sure I say truth."

  "All right, then I be sad till yoh lov' me. Yoh maybe be happy, yoh knowRamon's got heavy heart for yoh."

  "I plenty sorry, you be sad for me," she confessed demurely. "I lov' yohso moch! I think nothing but how beautiful my sweetheart is. I not teaseyoh no more. Tell me, how long Luck says he stay out here? Maybe yohhear sometimes he's going for taking pictures in town?"

  "I not hear."

  "Going home, maybe? You mus' hear little bit. Yoh tell me, sweetheart;what's he gone do when roundup's all finish? Me, I know she's finishlas' week. Looks like he's taking pictures out here all summer! You hearhim say something, maybe?"

  "I not hear."

  "Them vaqueros--bah! They don't bear nothings either. What's matter overthere, nobody hear nothing? Luck, he got no tongue when camera's shutup, perhaps?"

  "Nah--I dunno."

  Ramon looked at her for a minute in mute rage. It was not the first timehe had found himself hard against the immutable reticence of the Indianin her nature.

  "Why you snapping teeth like a wolf?" she asked him slyly.

  "Me? I don' snap my teeth, sweetheart." It cost Ramon some effort tokeep his voice softened to the love key.

  "Why you not ask Wagalexa Conka what he do?"

  "I don' care, that's why I don' ask. Me, it's' no matter."

  He hesitated a moment, evidently weighing a matter of more importanceto him than he would have Annie-Many-Ponies suspect. "Sweetheart, yoh doone thing for Ramon?" His voice might almost be called wheedling. "Me,I'm awful busy tomorrow. I got long ride away off--to my rancho. I gotto see my brother Tomas. I be back here not before night. Yoh tell BillHolmes he come here by this rock--yoh say midnight that's good time--Isure be here that time. Yoh say I got something I wan' tell him. Yoh dothat for Ramon, sweetheart?"

  He waited, trying to hide the fact that he was anxious.

  "I not like Bill Holmes." Annie-Many-Ponies spoke with an air offinality. "Bill Holmes comes close, I feel snakes. Him not friend toWagalexa Conka--say nothing--always go around still, like fox watchingfor rabbit. You not friend to Bill Holmes?"

  "Me? No--I not friend, querida mia. I got business. I sell Bill Holmesone silver bridle, perhaps. I don' know--mus' talk about it. Yoh tellhim come here by big rock, sweetheart?"

  Annie-Many-Ponies took a minute for deliberation--which is the Indianway. Ramon, having learned patience, said no more but watched herslant-eyed.

  "I tell," she promised at last, and added, "I go now." Then she slippedaway. And Ramon, though he stood for several minutes by the rock smilingqueerly and staring down the arroyo, caught not the slightest glimpseof her after she left him. He knew that she would deliver faithfullyhis message to Bill Holmes, she had given her word. That was onegreat advantage, considered Ramon, in dealing with those direct,uncompromising natures. She might torment him with her aloofness and herreticence, but once he had won her to a full confidence and submissionhe need not trouble himself further about her loyalty. She would tellBill Holmes--and, what was vastly more important, she would do itsecretly; he had not dared to speak of that, but he thought he mightsafely trust to her natural wariness. So Ramon, after a little, stoleaway to his own camp quite satisfied.

  The next night, when he stood in the shadow of the rock ledge andwaited, he was not startled by the unexpected presence of the person hewanted to see. For although Bill Holmes came as cautiously as he knewhow, and avoided the wide, bright-lighted stretches of arroyo where hewould have been plainly visible, Ramon both saw and heard him before hereached the ledge. What Ramon did not see or hear was Annie-Many-Ponies,who did not quite believe that those two wished merely to talk about asilver bridle,
and who meant to listen and find out why it was that theycould not talk openly before all the boys.

  Annie-Many-Ponies had ways of her own. She did not tell Ramon that shedoubted his word, nor did she refuse to deliver the message. She waitedcalmly until Bill Holmes left camp stealthily that night, and shefollowed him. It was perfectly simple and sensible and the right thingto do; if you wanted to know for sure whether a person lied to you, youhad but to watch and listen and let your own eyes and ears prove guiltor innocence.

  So Annie-Many-Ponies stood by the rock and listened and watched. Shedid not see any silver bridle. She heard many words, but the two werespeaking in that strange Spanish talk which she did not know at all,save "Querida mia," which Ramon had told her meant sweetheart.

  The two talked, low-voiced and earnest, Bill was telling all that heknew of Luck Lindsay's plans--and that was not much.

  "He don't talk," Bill complained. "He just tells the bunch a dayahead--just far enough to get their makeup and costumes on, generally.But he won't stay around here much longer; he's taken enough springroundup stuff now for half a dozen pictures. He'll be moving in to theranch again pretty quick. And I know this picture calls for a lot oftown business that he'll have to take. I saw the script the other day."This, of course, being a free translation of the meaningless jumble ofstrange words which Annie heard.

  "What town business is that? Where will he work?" Ramon was plainlyimpatient of so much vagueness.

  "Well, there's a bank robbery--I paid particular attention, Ramon, so Iknow for certain. But when he'll do it, or what bank he'll use, I don'tknow any more than you do. And there's a running fight down the streetand through the Mexican quarter. The rest is just street stuff--thatand a fiesta that I think he'll probably me the old plaza for location.He'll need a lot of Mexicans for that stuff. He'll want you, of course."

  "That bank--who will do that?" Ramon's fingers trembled so that he couldscarcely roll a cigarette. "Andy, perhaps?"

  "No--that's the Mexican bunch. I--why, I guess that will maybe beyou, Ramon. I wasn't paying much attention to the parts--I was afterlocations, and I only had about two minutes at the script. But he's beengiving you some good bits right along where he needed a Mexican type;and those scenes in the rocks the other day was bandit stuff with youfor lead. It'll be you or Miguel--the Native Son, as they call him--andso far he's cast for another part. That's the worst of Luck. He won'ttalk about what he's going to do till he's all ready to do it."

  There was a little further discussion. Ramon muttered a fewsentences--rapid instructions, Annie-Many-Ponies believed from the tonehe used.

  "All right, I'll keep you posted," Bill Holmes replied in English. Andhe added as he started off, "You can send word by the squaw."

  He went carefully back down the arroyo, keeping as much as possible inthe shade. Behind him stole Annie-Many-Ponies, noiseless as the shadowof a cloud. Bill Holmes, she reflected angrily, had seen the day, not sofar in the past, when he was happy if the "squaw" but smiled upon him.It was because she had repelled his sly lovemaking that he had come tospeak of her slightingly like that; she knew it. She could have namedthe very day when his manner toward her had changed. Mingled with herhate and dread of him was a new contempt and a new little anxiety overthis clandestine intimacy between Ramon and him. Why should Bill Holmeskeep Ramon posted? Surely not about a silver bridle!

  Shunka Chistala was whining in her little tent when she came into thecamp. She heard Bill Holmes stumble over the end of the chuck-wagontongue and mutter the customary profanity with which the average manmeets an incident of that kind. She whispered a fierce command to thelittle black dog and stood very still for a minute, listening. Shedid not hear anything further, either from Bill Holmes or the dog, andfinally reassured by the silence, she crept into her tent and tied theflaps together on the inside, and lay down in her blankets with thelittle black dog contentedly curled at her feet with his nose betweenhis front paws.