"Ugh! dog!" he grunted, and gave Beverley a kick in the side. Then
turning a fiendish stare upon Oncle Jazon he proceeded to deliver
against his old, dry ribs three or four like contributions with
resounding effect. "Polecat! Little old greasy woman!" he snarled,
"make good fire for warrior to dance by!" Kenton also received his
full share of the kicks and verbal abuse, after which Long-Hair
gave orders for fires to be built. Then he looked to his hurt arm
and had the bone set and bandaged, never so much as wincing the
while.
It was soon apparent that the Indians purposed to celebrate their
successful enterprise with a feast. They cooked a large amount of
buffalo steak; then, each with his hands full of the savory meat,
they began to dance around the fires, droning meantime an
atrociously repellant chant.
"They're a 'spectin' to hev a leetle bit o' fun outen us,"
muttered Oncle Jazon to Beverley, who lay near him. "I onderstan'
what they're up to, dad dast 'em! More'n forty years ago, in
Ca'lina, they put me an' Jim Hipes through the ga'ntlet, an' arter
thet, in Kaintuck, me an' Si Kenton tuck the run. Hi, there, Si!
where air ye?"
"Shut yer fool mouth," Kenton growled under his breath. "Ye'll
have that Injun a kickin' our lights out of us again."
Oncle Jazon winked at the gray sky and puckered his mouth so that
it looked like a nutgall on an old, dry leaf.
Pages:
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270