Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 6, 2025
He was seated on the earthen door-sill of the hut where Kars was sleeping. He was contemplating with a pair of black, expressionless eyes the shadows growing in the crevices of the far side of the gorge. The occasional whistle of a bullet passing harmlessly overhead failed to disturb him in the smallest degree. Why should he be disturbed? They were only fired by "damn-fool neche."
"Him all big fool pack neche. No good. Plenty 'fraid. Plenty eat. Oh, yes, plenty eat. One, two." Again he told off his fingers. "Good neche. Fight plenty. Oh, yes. Peigan Charley." He held up one finger. "Heap good feller," he commented solemnly. "Big Chief, boss. Big Chief, Bill. Two." Again the inevitable fingers. "Shoot plenty much. No good. Five hundred Bell River devils. Mush gun. Shoot bad.
The four women had watched the scene from the kitchen door. Hervey came over to where they were standing. "I'm sorry, mother," he said. "Neche has killed one of your dogs. He's a fiend for fighting. I've a good mind to shoot him now." "No, don't go for to do that," said his mother. "We oughtn't to have sent Andy to take your horse. I expect the beast thought he was doing right." "He's a brute.
It is easy enough to mystify the simple human mind, but dogs' instincts are purely practical, and, as Hervey argued, ghosts do not leave a hot scent. Neche had lit upon a hot scent. At first the man had been doubtful as to what that scent was.
She took your measure for the coward who could flog a wretched neche who couldn't defend himself. I'm glad." For a moment the sting of the woman's words looked like overwhelming the man's restraint. But the black shadow of his brows suddenly lightened, and again he shrugged his heavy shoulders with a transparent indifference. "Oh, yes," he admitted. "She beat me."
There was no grief, no anger in her voice now. She spoke quite coldly, and Sarah Gurridge looked keenly over at her. "Yes, girl, we'll settle this rumpus, and Hervey." Prudence moved towards the door. She turned at her mother's words. "I will go up-stairs," she said. "I want to think." She opened the door and nearly fell against the dog Neche, who was standing outside it.
Nor did his muttered reply reach his now preoccupied friend. "And we cuss the poor darn neche for a savage." It was midnight before the final convulsions of the great storming assaults showed a waning. The first signs were the lengthening intervals between the rushes. Then gradually the rushes lessened in determination and only occasionally did they come to close quarters.
She saw nothing; she felt nothing but the pain which her own thoughts brought her. Suddenly the sound of something moving outside became audible. There was the noisy yawn of some large animal rising from its rest. Then came the slow, heavy patter of the creature's feet. Neche approached the window. His fierce-looking head stood well above the sill.
The bullets whistled in every direction. The firing was wild, as is most Indian firing. A bullet struck the lintel of the door, and embedded itself deeply in the woodwork just above Keewin's head. Keewin glanced up. He pointed with a long, brown finger. "Neche damn fool. No shoot. Keewin go. Keewin laugh. Bell River Indian all damn fool. So."
Isn't it my job to see those poor devils right? Why, they'd lap up dope till you couldn't tell 'em from a New York drug store. The fouler it tastes the more surely they come back for more. I'd say I've lengthened the sick list of this reserve till you'd think it was a Free Hospital, and there wasn't a healthy neche, squaw, or pappoose north of 60°."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking