CHAPTER XIV
THE WARNING
"Ma," exclaimed Rosebud, after a long and unusual silence while she waswashing up the breakfast things, and Mrs. Sampson was busy with somecleaning at the other side of the kitchen, "do you ever get tired of yourwork here? Your life, I mean?"
It was early morning. Already the heat in the kitchen was intense. Malooked hot, but then she was stooping and polishing, and the flies wereprovoking. Rosebud, in linen overall, still looked cool. Her face wasserious enough, which seemed to be the result of some long train ofthought. Ma suddenly stopped working to look up, and waved a protestinghand at the swarming flies. She found the girl's violet eyes lookingsteadily into hers. There was an earnestness in their depths as unusual asthe seriousness of her face. The old woman had been about to answerhastily, but she changed her mind.
"Why should I, child?" she said, as though such a contingency were out ofall reason. "It's all ours, I guess. It's jest ours to make or mar. Ther'isn't a stick on this farm that we haven't seen set ther', Rube an' me.Tired of it? Guess the only tire I'll feel'll come when I can't set footto the ground, an' ain't the strength to kindle a stove or scrub a floor.Tired? No, child. What fixed you to get askin' that?"
The plates clattered under Rosebud's hands as she went on with her work.Ma eyed the stack of dishes in some doubt. She thought there might be someexcuse for the girl being a little tired of domestic duties. She oftenwondered about this. Yet she had never heard Rosebud complain; besides,she had a wise thought in the back of her head about the girl's feelingstoward at least one of their little family circle.
"I don't quite know, Ma," the girl said at last. Then she added quickly,feeling, of a sudden, that her question had suggested something she didnot intend. "Don't think I am. I was wondering over something else." Shelaughed a little uncertainly. "It's Seth. He's always harping on my goingaway. Always thinking of the time when my people are to be found. And Ijust wondered if he thought I was tired of the farm and wanted to be away.He's so kind and good to me, and I thought he might, in a mistaken way,believe I'd be happier in--well, with those people who have forgotten myvery existence. I love the farm, and--and all of you. And I don't want togo away."
Ma turned again to her work with a wise little smile in her twinklingeyes.
"Seth's a far-seein' boy, an' a good boy in 'most everything," she said,in a tone indicating wholehearted affection; "but he's like most folkswith head-pieces, I guess. He don't stop at things which it is given tomen to understand. Ef I wus a man I'd say of Seth, he's li'ble to gitboostin' his nose into places not built fer a nose like his. Seein' I'mhis 'Ma,' I'd jest say he ain't no call to git figgerin' out what's goodfer wimminfolk."
"That's just what I think," exclaimed Rosebud, with a quick laugh. "Hemade me quite angry some time ago. He means to get me off the farmsomehow. And--and--I could just thump him for it." The girl's seriousnesshad passed, and she spoke lightly enough now.
"Men-folk do rile you some," nodded Ma. But the twinkle had not left hereyes. "But, my girl, I shouldn't be surprised if Seth's got mighty goodreason. An' it ain't to do with his personal feelin's."
Rosebud went on with her washing without speaking. She was thinking ofthat picnic she had taken with Seth and General nearly three weeks ago. Ithad almost developed into a serious quarrel. It would have done so, onlySeth refused to quarrel.
"He said, one day, he thought it was better I should go. Much better," shesaid, presently. "Well, it made me angry. I don't want to go, and I don'tsee why Seth should be allowed to order me to go. The farm doesn't belongto him. Besides----"
"Well, y' see, Rosebud, you're forgettin' Seth brought you here. He's akind of father to you." Ma smiled mischievously in the girl's direction,but Rosebud was too busy with her own thoughts to heed it.
"He's not my father, or anything of the kind. He's just Seth. He's notthirty yet, and I am eighteen. Pa's a father to me, and you are my mother.And Seth--Seth's no relation at all. And I'm just not going to call him'Daddy' ever again. It's that that makes him think he's got the right toorder me about," she added, as a hasty afterthought.
Further talk was interrupted at that moment by a knock at the back door.Rosebud passed out into the wash-house to answer the summons, and MaSampson heard her greet the Indian woman, Wanaha. The old farmwifemuttered to herself as she turned back to her work.
"Guess Seth ain't got the speed of a jibbin' mule," she said slowly andemphatically.
The girl did not return, and Ma, looking out of the window, saw the twowomen walking together, engaged in earnest conversation. She looked fromthem to the breakfast things, and finally left her own work and finishedthe washing up herself. It was part of her way to spare Rosebud as much asshe could, and the excuse served her now.
While Rosebud was receiving a visit from Wanaha at the back of the house,the men-folk, engaged in off-loading pine logs from a wagon, werereceiving visitors at the front of it. The Indian Agent and Mr.Hargreaves had driven up in a buckboard. The Agent's team was sweatingprofusely, a fact which the sharp eyes of Seth were quick to detect; alsohe noted that Parker was driving a team and not the usual one horse.
"Kind o' busy?" questioned Seth, in answer to the two men's greetings.
The Agent glanced at the steaming horses and nodded.
"Going into Beacon Crossing," he said.
"Ah," said Rube, in his heavy, guttural fashion. "Gettin' fixin's?"
The Agent smiled, and nodded at the minister beside him.
"Yes, of a sort; we both are."
"How?"
It was Seth who spoke, and a shade more sharply than usual.
"Well, I want to send a wire over the line, and wait a reply. We shan't beout again until Tuesday, and that's why we came over. There'll be nosewing class on Monday. You see, Mr. Hargreaves is going with me. We aredriving instead of riding, because we're going to bring out some small armammunition. We're both getting short of it."
The Agent's manner was casual enough, but the minister's face was grave.The former endeavored to pass lightly over the matter of the ammunition.
A brief silence followed. It was broken at last by the Agent again.
"Getting on with the logs?" he said.
"Yes. We're fixin' a big corral right round the farm."
It was Rube who explained; and the old man glanced from Seth with acomprehensive survey of the proposed enclosure.
"By the way," said Mr. Hargreaves, "I shouldn't let Rosebud come to theMission on Sunday. I shan't be there, but Jackson from Pine Ridge willhold the service. You see, there's--well----" The churchman broke off, andturned appealingly to the Agent.
"The fact is," Parker said, in his quick, abrupt manner, "Jim Crow andsome of the other boys have warned me that these red heathens are 'makingmed'cine.' I don't know what it means--yet. I wish to goodness the troopswere nearer."
The Agent's hard face was very set. His final wish was the key-note of hislife. His was truly an unsmiling existence.
"So you're jest goin' in to sound the warnin'," observed Seth. The othernodded.
"I'd like to cancel Little Black Fox's pass on Monday," Parker went on,"but it would be a bad policy. Anyway, if he goes out for a month theothers will likely keep quiet until he comes back, unless of course thispass of his has another meaning. I shall have him tracked. But--well, we'dbest get on. I should give some slight word of this to the Rankin peopleand old Joe Smith, north of you, and any one else you have time to--Imean the men-folk. You know, the usual thing, pass it on."
After a few more remarks the buckboard drove off and Rube and Sethreturned to their work. The silence between them was broken at last byRube.
"Seems to me ther's something to that pass."
"Yes," said Seth, thoughtfully. Then, with an impatient gesture, "GuessI'll go into Beacon myself to-day. There's a thing or two for me to do.Keep an eye on the wimminfolk. Guess I'll git goin' now."
Seth's announcement was received without question by Rube, for there wasperfect understa
nding between these men.
Half an hour later Seth was leading his horse from the barn ready saddledfor the journey. As he moved out he saw Rosebud coming toward him from thehouse. He waited, and she came up in something of a flutter of confusion.She had an unusual color, and her eyes were sparkling. Seth noted thesethings while he appeared to be arranging the contents of his saddle-bags.
"Pa says you're going into Beacon Crossing, Seth," she said withoutpreamble, as she stood at the horse's head and idly smoothed its velvetymuzzle with her soft brown hand.
"That's so," the man answered.
"I've written a letter to New York for a store price list. Will you mailit?"
"Sure."
There was an odd smile in Seth's dark eyes. He knew this was not thegirl's object in coming to him. He always called in at the house to askfor letters at the last moment before starting. There was a slightawkwardness while he waited for the girl to go on.
Suddenly Rosebud stooped and ran her hands down the horse's fore-legs. Herface was thus concealed.
"Seth, I used to think you wanted to get rid of me. You remember? Well,I--I think I know differently now. I'm sure I do. And I want to say I'msorry for being angry and nasty about it that time. What beautiful cleanlegs Buck has got."
"Ye-es." A soft light shone in the man's steady eyes as he gazed upon thegirl's still bent figure. One of his hands was resting on the cantle ofhis saddle, and for a moment it gripped tight. He was suddenly swept by apassionate longing that was hard to resist, and his answer came in aslightly husky tone. "You see, Rosie, when I want to be quit of you, itain't for anything you do or say, it's---- Guess I must be goin'."
Rosebud had abruptly straightened up, and her bright eyes were smilinginto his face. At that moment Seth could not support the flashing inquiryof them, so he sought safety in flight. He vaulted into the saddle almostas he spoke, and, with a wave of his hand, rode off, leaving herundeniably mistress of the situation.
She followed him with her eyes as he rode to the kitchen door and hailedMa. Her smile was still wreathing her pretty features when he finallyheaded away for the trail. It became more and more tender as horse andrider receded, and at last she turned away with a sigh.
"I wonder what he'd say if he knew what I've promised Wana?" she said toherself. Then she laughed a sudden, wilful laugh as she remembered thatshe hadn't given him her letter.
But Seth was not quite free to go his way. Another interruption occurredabout half a mile from the farm, where the trail dipped so that he wascompletely hidden from view. He overtook Wanaha. The Indian had beenwalking steadily on, but, since the sound of his horse's hoofs reachedher, she had been waiting at the roadside.
He greeted her and would have passed on, but she stopped him, addressinghim in her soft, flowery, native tongue.
"It is of Rosebud," she said, her dark eyes looking solemnly up into his."My brother, the great chief, he love her, and in his love is danger forher. I come. And I tell her these things. You love her. So, it is good.You know Indian as no other knows, 'cep' my man. He learn this danger, andhe send me for warning. I tell her to-day. You I tell too, for you havemuch knowledge and you watch. So."
"What danger? What is it?" Seth's questions came very sharply.
"I not know. It is so. My man he not know. He say only 'danger.' He sayBlack Fox leave Reservation. So, watch. An' I tell you. You must speak noword, or there danger for my man too, and for Wanaha. It is all."
Seth nodded.
"All right. I understand. You're a good squaw, Wanaha."
He passed on, for Wanaha waited for no questions. She had done what shethought best. Had not Nevil seen the gravity of the matter? But of her ownaccord she had gone further than her instructions. She had warned Seth,whom Nevil had said must not be told. For once in her life Wanaha hadexercised her own judgment in defiance of her husband's.
The squaw passed down the deep prairie furrow while Seth held to thetrail. And the man's thoughts went back to the interview he had had withRosebud that morning. So it was Wanaha who had caused her to come to him.
The Watchers of the Plains: A Tale of the Western Prairies Page 14
