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tales of trail and town-第6部分

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he knew not whyon a galloping horse in the dust of the prairie

far beyond the seas!  It was only when he saw her cheek flush and

pale; when he saw her staring at him with helpless; frightened; but

fascinated eyes;the eyes of the fluttering bird under the spell

of the rattlesnake;that he drew his breath and turned bewildered

away。  〃And do you know; dear;〃 she said with naive simplicity to

her sister that evening; 〃that although he was an American; and

everybody says that they don't care at all for those poor Indians;

he was so magnanimous in his indignation that I fancied he looked

like one of Cooper's heroes himself rather than an Atherly。  It was

such a stupid thing for me to show him that tomb of Major Atherly;

you know; who fought the Americans;didn't he?or was it later?

but I quite forgot he was an American。〃  And with this belief in

her mind; and in the high expiation of a noble nature; she forbore

her characteristic raillery; and followed him meekly; manacled in

spirit like the allegorical figure; to the church porch; where they

separated; to meet on the morrow。  But that morrow never came。



For late in the afternoon a cable message reached him from

California asking him to return to accept a nomination to Congress

from his own district。  It determined his resolution; which for a

moment at the church porch had wavered under the bright eyes of

Lady Elfrida。  He telegraphed his acceptance; hurriedly took leave

of his honestly lamenting kinsman; followed his dispatch to London;

and in a few days was on the Atlantic。



How he was received in California; how he found his sister married

to the blond lawyer; how he recovered his popularity and won his

election; are details that do not belong to this chronicle of his

quest。  And that quest seems to have terminated forever with his

appearance at Washington to take his seat as Congressman。



It was the night of a levee at the White House。  The East Room was

crowded with smartly dressed men and women of the capital; quaintly

simple legislators from remote States in bygone fashions; officers

in uniform; and the diplomatic circle blazing with orders。  The

invoker of this brilliant assembly stood in simple evening dress

near the door;unattended and hedged by no formality。  He shook

the hand of the new Congressman heartily; congratulated him by

name; and turned smilingly to the next comer。  Presently there was

a slight stir at one of the opposite doors; the crowd fell back;

and five figures stalked majestically into the centre of the room。

They were the leading chiefs of an Indian reservation coming to pay

their respects to their 〃Great Father;〃 the President。  Their

costumes were a mingling of the picturesque with the grotesque; of

tawdriness with magnificence; of artificial tinsel and glitter with

the regal spoils of the chase; of childlike vanity with barbaric

pride。  Yet before these the glittering orders and ribbons of the

diplomats became dull and meaningless; the uniforms of the officers

mere servile livery。  Their painted; immobile faces and plumed

heads towered with grave dignity above the meaner crowd; their

inscrutable eyes returned no response to the timid glances directed

towards them。  They stood by themselves; alone and impassive;yet

their presence filled the room with the sense of kings。  The

unostentatious; simple republican court suddenly seemed to have

become royal。  Even the interpreter who stood between their remote

dignity and the nearer civilized world acquired the status of a

court chamberlain。



When their 〃Great Father;〃 apparently the less important personage;

had smilingly received them; a political colleague approached Peter

and took his arm。  〃Gray Eagle would like to speak with you。  Come

on!  Here's your chance!  You may be put on the Committee on Indian

Relations; and pick up a few facts。  Remember we want a firm

policy; no more palaver about the 'Great Father' and no more

blankets and guns!  You know what we used to say out West; 'The

only 〃Good Indian〃 is a dead one。'  So wade in; and hear what the

old plug hat has to say。〃



Peter permitted himself to be led to the group。  Even at that

moment he remembered the figure of the Indian on the tomb at Ashley

Grange; and felt a slight flash of satisfaction over the superior

height and bearing of Gray Eagle。



〃How!〃 said Gray Eagle。  〃How!〃 said the other four chiefs。  〃How!〃

repeated Peter instinctively。  At a gesture from Gray Eagle the

interpreter said: 〃Let your friend stand back; Gray Eagle has

nothing to say to him。  He wishes to speak only with you。〃



Peter's friend reluctantly withdrew; but threw a cautioning glance

towards him。  〃Ugh!〃 said Gray Eagle。  〃Ugh!〃 said the other

chiefs。  A few guttural words followed to the interpreter; who

turned; and facing Peter with the monotonous impassiveness which he

had caught from the chiefs; said: 〃He says he knew your father。  He

was a great chief;with many horses and many squaws。  He is dead。〃



〃My father was an Englishman;Philip Atherly!〃 said Peter; with an

odd nervousness creeping over him。



The interpreter repeated the words to Grey Eagle; who; after a

guttural 〃Ugh!〃 answered in his own tongue。



〃He says;〃 continued the interpreter with a slight shrug; yet

relapsing into his former impassiveness; 〃that your father was a

great chief; and your mother a pale face; or white woman。  She was

captured with an Englishman; but she became the wife of the chief

while in captivity。  She was only released before the birth of her

children; but a year or two afterwards she brought them as infants

to see their father;the Great Chief;and to get the mark of

their tribe。  He says you and your sister are each marked on the

left arm。〃



Then Gray Eagle opened his mouth and uttered his first English

sentence。  〃His father; big Injin; take common white squaw!

Papoose no good;too much white squaw mother; not enough big Injin

father!  Look!  He big man; but no can bear pain!  Ugh!〃



The interpreter turned in time to catch Peter。  He had fainted。





CHAPTER III





A hot afternoon on the plains。  A dusty cavalcade of United States

cavalry and commissary wagons; which from a distance preserved a

certain military precision of movement; but on nearer view resolved

itself into straggling troopers in twos and fours interspersed

between the wagons; two noncommissioned officers and a guide riding

ahead; who had already fallen into the cavalry slouch; but off to

the right; smartly erect and cadet…like; the young lieutenant in

command。  A wide road that had the appearance of being at once well

traveled and yet deserted; and that; although well defined under

foot; still seemed to disappear and lose itself a hundred feet

ahead in the monotonous level。  A horizon that in that clear; dry;

hazeless atmosphere never mocked you; yet never changed; but kept

its eternal rim of mountains at the same height and distance from

hour to hour and day to day。  Dusta parching alkaline powder that

cracked the skineverywhere; clinging to the hubs and spokes of

the wheels; without being disturbed by movement; incrusting the

cavalryman from his high boots to the crossed sabres of his cap;

going off in small puffs like explosions under the plunging hoofs

of the horses; but too heavy to rise and follow them。  A reeking

smell of horse sweat and boot leather that lingered in the road

long after the train had passed。  An external silence broken only

by the cough of a jaded horse in the suffocating dust; or the

cracking of harness leather。  Within one of the wagons that seemed

a miracle of military neatness and methodical stowage; a lazy

conversation carried on by a grizzled driver and sunbrowned farrier。



〃'Who be you?' sezee。  'I'm Philip Atherly; a member of Congress;'

sez the long; dark…complected man; sezee; 'and I'm on a commission

for looking into this yer Injin grievance;' sezee。  'You may be God

Almighty;' sez Nebraska Bill; sezee; 'but you look a dd sight

more like a hoss…stealin' Apache; and we don't want any of your

psalm…singing; big…talkin' peacemakers interferin' with our ways of

treatin' pizen;you hear me?  I'm shoutin';' sezee。  With that the

dark…complected man's eyes began to glisten; and he sorter squirmed

all over to get at Bill; and Bill outs with his battery。Whoa;

will ye; what's up with YOU now?〃  The latter remark was directed

to the young spirited near horse he was driving; who was beginning

to be strangely excited。



〃What happened then?〃 said the farrier lazily。



〃Well;〃 continued the driver; having momentarily quieted his horse;

〃I reckoned it was about time for me to wheel into line; for

fellers of the Bill stripe; out on the plains; would ez leave plug

a man in citizen's clothes; even if he was the President himself;

as they would drop on an Injin or a nigger。  'Look here; Bill;' sez

I; 'I'm escortin' this stranger under gov'ment orde
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