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Updated: May 3, 2025
"I was thinking we'd gone up river about far enough. We must have got away ahead of the Apaches. Hope I sha'n't meet any." "Shoot quick," said Two Arrows. "Kill. Take 'calp. Be great brave. Two Arrows kill grisly. Kill 'Pache some day. How!" He held out his hand, and Sile shook it hard in token of good-bye, and the two boys separated, each to carry his own tidings and face his own dangers.
"Good morning, Sile," some said, as we passed them, or, "How are you, Comptroller?" It was a square, frame house that of the Dunkelbergs large for that village, and had a big dooryard with trees in it. As we came near the gate I saw Sally Dunkelberg playing with other children among the trees. Suddenly I was afraid and began to hang back.
He showed no disposition to ride fast, but cantered away to the right, skirting the edge of the mountain slope, and seeming to study every clump of trees and bushes they came to. It was mostly grassy "open" for quite a distance from the mouth of the cañon. "No smoke anywhere," said Pine. "They're not camped hereaway." "I walked out along their trail, at the ruins," said Sile.
Sile was silent long enough for Two Arrows to point at him and remark, "Heap shoot." "So I did, father, but he pointed him out. I'd never have seen him if I'd been alone." "Jest so," said Yellow Pine. "There isn't anything else on the earth like the eyesight of an Indian. I've had 'em sight game more'n once that I'd ha' missed sure."
"How could they ever have got there?" he said, as he began to pull upon a bush with green leaves yet clinging to its twigs. In five minutes more he knew where the Nez Percés had made their hasty "cache" for their lodges and other treasures, and he went at once to report it to his father and to Yellow Pine. The latter looked at Sile with positive respect, and exclaimed,
He said he was sick on't. "I tell you how 'tis, teacher. Folks that lives along this shore are allus talkin' more'n any other sort of folks about going off, and complainin' about the hard livin', and cussin' the stingy sile, but thar's suthin' about it sorter holts to 'em. They allus come a driftin' back in some shape or other, in the course of a year or two at the farderest."
There was no danger that any sentry would sleep on his post that night, but all the first part and the middle of it went by as peacefully as if the valley were uninhabited. Sile slept and slept, and when at last he opened his eyes, he could not have told why he did so. The stars were shining. The night air was crisp and chilly, but he was warm under his blanket.
She stood it pretty well, but the other contents of the box had less interest now. She and Na-tee-kah preferred to go on with the brush and comb. Even Two Arrows looked at them so enviously that Sile told him the white chiefs did comb their hair. It was enough. Squaws were made to serve braves, and they were both commanded to take charge of his long, bushy, and decidedly tangled barbering.
Then along come this Danny Calkins, that taken up some land nigh to me in the bottoms low-downest coward of a, man that ever disgraced the sile of yearth and then I merried him." "Is he dead, too, my dear woman?" I asked. "Don't you 'dear woman' me I ain't free to merry agin yit," said she. "Naw, he ain't dead, and I ain't deevorced either. I just done left him.
Lock and key were mysteries they had no thought of, and they almost started back with surprise when Sile pushed a thin bit of steel into one side of that contrivance and all the upper part of it could be tipped right over. Sile's "box" would have been first-rate rummaging for any boy of his acquaintance, and it was a mine of wonders to the two young savages.
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