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Updated: June 18, 2025
It was jest somethin' I wanted the girl to hev." Slingerland touched his shaggy horse and called over his shoulder: "Rustle out of hyar!" Then he galloped down the trail, leaving the travelers standing aghast. "Break camp!" thundered Horn. A scene of confusion followed. In a very short while the prairie- schooners were lumbering down the valley. Twilight came just as the flight got under way.
"Wal, I've traded with them same Sioux when they was on the war- path.... This massacre sure is awful, an' the Sioux will hev to be extarminated. But they hev their wrongs. An' Injuns is Injuns." Slabs of rock were laid upon the graves. Then the troopers rode away. Neale and Slingerland and Larry King were the last to mount.
Just then Larry rode up, leading Neale's horse. Slingerland eyed the lithe cowboy. "Howdy!" drawled Larry. He did not seem curious or eager, and his cool, easy, reckless air was in sharp contrast to Neale's fiery daring. "Red, you got the rifles, I see," said Neale. "Sure, an' I rustled some biscuits." In a few moments the troops were mounted and ready.
Slingerland found a pick and shovel, which Neale remembered to have used in building the dugout; and with these the two men toiled at the frozen sand and gravel to open up a grave; It was like digging in stone. At length they succeeded. Then, rolling Service in the blankets and tarpaulin, they lowered him into the cold ground and hurriedly filled up his grave. It was a grim, gruesome task.
Neale and Slingerland, for all their respect for the cowboy's judgment, regarded the advent of these visitors as a forerunner of an evil time for lonely trappers. "I'll hev to move back deeper in the mountains, away from the railroad," said Slingerland. This incident also put a different light upon the intention Neale had of hunting for the buried gold.
From there he led them along the top of the ridge, and just as the sun rose over the hills he pointed down to a spot where the caravan had been encamped. They descended into this valley. There in the trail were fresh tracks of unshod horses. "We ain't fur behind, but I reckon fur enough to be too late," said Slingerland. And he clenched a big fist.
When a year passed after the departure of Neale and Larry King it seemed to Slingerland that they would never return. There was peril on the trails these days. He grew more and more convinced of some fatality, but he did not confide his fears to Allie. She was happy and full of trust; every day, almost every hour, she looked for Neale.
Allie shuddered close to him, blinded, stormed by an exquisite bitter-sweet fury of love. She seemed rising, uplifted, filled with rich, strong joy. "I forgave him," she murmured, dreamily low to herself. "War, mebbe you'll be right glad you did presently," said Slingerland, with animation. "'Specially when thar wasn't nothin' much to forgive." Allie became mute. She could not lift her eyes.
Horn's big hand trembled as he held it out, and for once there was no trace of hardness about his face. "Allie, I never had no lass of my own.... I wish you'd go with him. You'd be safe an' you could take my " "No!" interrupted the girl. Slingerland gave her a strange, admiring glance, then turned his quick gray eyes upon Horn. "Anythin' I can take?" Horn hesitated. "No.
Slingerland was his appreciative listener. "Wal," he would say, shaking his grizzled head, "I reckon I don't believe all your General Lodge says is goin' to happen." "But, man, can't you imagine what it will be?" protested Neale. "Take thousands of soldiers the riffraff of the war and thousands of laborers of all classes, niggers, greasers, pigtail chinks, and Irish.
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