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Updated: May 20, 2025
And the man's smile as he turned to the waiting customers was something An-ina, at least, was never likely to forget. Steve contemplated many things for that night. He contemplated unlocking the doors of those hidden secrets of his life to which no one had been admitted. But disappointment awaited him.
It was rather the picture of two children listening to some wonderful fairy story, told in the staid tones of a well-loved parent. Never for a moment was attention diverted. Never was interruption permitted. Even the approach of An-ina passed unremarked.
I'd like to get through with it before Marcel gets back with this Keeko." An-ina nodded. Something of her anxiety became absorbed by her tender smile at the reference to Marcel and Keeko. "The thaw him no come," she said. "Maybe him not find Keeko. Maybe it long heap long time. Oh, yes?" Steve stood up and turned his back to the cook-stove. His sunken eyes were reflective. "No.
If Nita and my little girl had been here it wouldn't have been that way. I'd have persuaded them to leave him with me. With no home to take him to I'd have no case. So I got busy on a report that made him out the bastard of An-ina and the dead trader. They can't claim him from his mother, even though she's a squaw. And anyway I've fixed it with McDowell they both remain with you."
The man had almost forgotten the mitted hand he was still clasping. Now he looked down into the up-turned, enquiring eyes. "I don't guess An-ina needs us for awhile," he said. Then, after a pause: "No," he added. "Boy's worked hard very hard. Maybe we'll go back to the fort. And Uncle tell boy a story? Eh?" Steve had no need to wait for the torrent of verbal appreciation that came.
And the utter and complete self-abnegation of it all was overwhelming to the man. "You you're a good soul, An-ina," he said, in the clumsy fashion of a man unused to giving expression to his deeper feelings. "God made you a squaw. He handed you a colour that sets you a race apart from white folk, but he gave you a heart so big and white that an angel might envy. Yes, I want you An-ina.
"Him go," she said, with a little gesture of the hands. "An-ina send him. Oh, yes." "Gone? Where?" Steve was startled. For a moment a sickening doubt flashed through his mind, and robbed his eyes of the shining joy of his return. "It Keeko. She call call. All the time she call to Marcel, who is great man like to Boss Steve. Yes. Oh, yes. She call this white girl, Keeko. And An-ina say, 'Go!
I haven't had a word since. I've been eighteen months here alone with An-ina, and these Sleepers. He might have met with accident. But it's more likely murder. These Sleepers suspected. They were frightened he'd found out. You see, this stuff this Adresol is sacred to them. They would kill anyone who found out where they get it from."
With stick raised, and every nerve quivering with excitement, he was there to do battle with the destructive foe. So he waited whilst An-ina advanced with her fire brand. With rapid breathing and shining eyes the hunter watched as each plugging of dried grass was fired. The smoke, rising in a circle about him, left him a picture like some child martyr being burned at the stake.
What then if this bunch hits up against the fort while we're away? Oh, I'm not thinking of our 'claim. It's An-ina. The soul who's handed over her life to us. The woman who's nursed you ever since you were born. And who'd give up her life any hour of the day or night if she guessed it would help you. Can we leave her to Julyman? You best tell me how you think just how you think."
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