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There were many interesting characters among the residents of the town and county. At times there came to play the violin at our dances one Seth Kinman, a buckskin-clad hunter. He became nationally famous when he fashioned and presented elkhorn chairs to Buchanan and several succeeding Presidents. They were ingenious and beautiful, and he himself was most picturesque.
At length the horse trotted out into the opening, to be hauled up short. Ellen recognized the buckskin-clad figure, the broad shoulders, the dark face of Jean Isbel. Ellen felt prey to the strangest quaking sensation she had ever suffered. It took violence of her new-born spirit to subdue that feeling. Isbel rode slowly across the clearing toward her.
The Rio! And the rattlesnake shakes his ornery tail!" The buckskin-clad singer raised his hat in happy farewell. The people of the wagon train answered his shout: "Shore yo' won't go on with us?" "We shore thank yuh for what yuh done, Kid!" Others took up the cry. They hated to lose this smiling young Texan's company. He had saved them from death and worse.
He encountered Lieutenant Leslie, whom he knew well, and who told him a scout had come in with news of a threatened raid; Colonel Dillon had ordered out a detachment of troopers. "I'm going," shouted Neale. "Where's that scout?" Neale soon descried a buckskin-clad figure, and he made toward it.
Apart from the land-office crowds, and looking on in silent rage, stood a group of the old settlers, tall, lean, powerful, yet impotent for lack of a leader. A contrast they were, these buckskin-clad pioneers, to the ill-assorted humanity they watched, absorbed in struggles for the very lands they had won.
This evidence of feeling in him relaxed the stony scrutiny of the watchers, and they shifted uneasily on their feet. Allie stood watching waiting, with her heart at her lips. "Where did you take my daughter?" queried Lee, presently. "To the home of a trapper. My friend Slingerland," replied Neale, indicating the buckskin-clad figure. "She lived there slowly recovering.
Apart from the land-office crowds, and looking on in silent rage, stood a group of the old settlers, tall, lean, powerful, yet impotent for lack of a leader. A contrast they were, these buckskin-clad pioneers, to the ill-assorted humanity they watched, absorbed in struggles for the very lands they had won.
Everything was animation; the bullwhackers unhitching and disposing of their teams, the herders staking out the cattle, and not the least interesting the mess cooks preparing the evening meal at the crackling camp-fires, with the huge, canvas-covered wagons encircling them like ghostly sentinels; the ponies and oxen blinking stupidly as the flames stampeded the shadows in which they were enveloped; and more weird than all, the buckskin-clad bullwhackers, squatted around the fire, their beards glowing red in its light, their faces drawn in strange black and yellow lines, while the spiked grasses shot tall and sword-like over them.
"Looking out for me, I wonder?" he asked himself, and as this glow of agitated speculation swept over him the men who plied him with questions angrily admonished his silence. "He has seen a wolf! He has seen a wolf! 'Tis plain!" cried old Mivane, as he stood in his metropolitan costume among the buckskin-clad pioneers. "One would know that without being told!"
And he rested one powerful hand on her buckskin-clad shoulder while his lewd fingers moved, gently caressing the soft flesh underneath. A wild, panicky desire set Keeko half mad to fling his filthy hand from its contact. But she resisted the impulse. She knew she dared not risk it in his present mood and condition. Filled with unutterable loathing she submitted to it.
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