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Wolfville Nights

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 2655    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

pache's Co

the white man's findin' out. He's shore a myst'ry, the Injun is! an' where the paleface forever fails of his s'lootion is that the lat

the paleface. The Western Injuns at least-for I ain't posted none on Eastern savages, the same bein' happily killed off prior to my time-the Western Injuns lays the bee, the wild turkey, an' that weed fo

yooal talk with him. This buck's been East for the first time in his darkened c'reer an' visited the Great Father in Washin'ton. I asks him what he regyards as the deepest game he in his travels goes ag'inst. At first he allows that pie, that a-way, makes the most profoun

s this intelligent savage, 'is

'to avalanche upon the people when you cut

til the skelp-lock whips his y'ears, an' all m

ot?' I

'they no believe. They

red savage? That's what makes me say thar be traits possessed of I

but the spectacle fills me with vain regrets. All the same thar's a load o' lies told East concernin' the Injun. I was wont from time to time to discuss these red

The Grey Fox-which was the Injun name for Crook-makes Cochise a talk. Likewise he p'ints out to the chief the landmarks an' mountain peaks that indicates the Mexican line. An' the Grey Fox explains to Cochise that what cattle is killed an' what skelps is took to the south'ard of the line ain't goin' to bother him a bit. But no'th'ard it's different; thar in that sacred region cattle killin' an' skelp collectin' don't go

een the Apache an' the paleface to the no'th'ard of that line. Then the Grey Fox an' Cochise shakes hands an' says "How!" an' Cochise, with a b

rs than hoss sense, allows he'll apprehend Cochise's brother a whole lot for some offense that ain't most likely deuce high in the category of troo crime. This ediot offishul reaches for the relative of Cochise; an' as the latter-bein' a savage an' tharfore plumb afraid of captivity-leaps back'ard like he's m

a mornin' of trouble, fills the rattlesnake skin with cartridges an' sends 'em back with a word to Cochise to turn himse'f loose. From that moment the war-jig which is to last for years is on. After Cochise comes Geronimo, an' after Geronimo comes Nana; an' one an' all, they adds a heap of spice to life in Arizona. It's no exaggeration to put the number of palefaces who lose their ha'r as the direct res

nto while romancin' along among the hills wit

alry goes with 'em an' albeit on one ha'r-hung o'casion I profits mightily tharby, I'm onable to give it a reas

on to pay off the nearby troops. I've got six waggons an' a escort of twenty men. For myse'f, at the r'ar of the processio

to the foothills. No, they'd be afoot; the Apaches ain't hoss-back Injuns an' only fond of steeds as food. He never rides on one, a Apache don't, but he'll camp an' build a fire an' eat a corral full of ponies if you'll furnish 'em, an' lick his lips i

the mesa before dark, when to put a coat of paint on the gen'ral trouble the lead waggon breaks down. I turns out in the snow with the rest, an' we-all puts

e bein' torn and frayed with the many exasperations of the day. I gives my driver the word to wait a bit, an' searchin' forth my tobacc

escort, if it's only to set the troops a example. As I exhales my first puff of smoke and is on the verge of tellin' my driver to pull out-this yere mule-skinner is settin' so that matters to the r'ar is cut off from his gaze by the canva

my mind to the fact that I've come to the end of my trails. He'pless? Shore! I'm stuck as firm in the snow as one of the pines about me; my guns is in the waggon outen immediate reach; thar I stands as certain a prey to that Apache with the lance as he's likely to go up ag'inst doorin

t to butt. It fairly sings a death song! I can feel it go through an' through me a score of times. But I stands thar facin' him; for, of course, I wants it to

within a rod of me an' halts. His arm goes back for a mighty cast of the lance; the weepon is vibrant with the very sperit

other-I an' that paint-daubed buck! I can't say whatever is his notion of me, but on m

You can gamble I don't lose no time in arguin' the question, but accepts the lance with all that it implies. Bringin' the weepon to a 'Right Shoulder' an' with my mind relieved, I gives the word to my mule-skinner-who's onconscious of the transactions in life an' dea

s within 'em every thought of cancellin' me with that lance, an' tharupon they pays me their savage compliments in manner an' form deescribed. They don't regyard themse'fs as surrenderin' neither; they esteems passin' me the lance as inauguratin' a armistice an' looks on themse'fs as guests of honor an' onder

ent whom they respects, says adios; an' then they scatters like a flock of quail. Also, havin' resoomed business on old-time lines, they takes divers shots at us with their Winchesters doorin' the next two days, an' kills a hoss an' creases my

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