The Watchers of the Plains: A Tale of the Western Prairies

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XII

  CROSS PURPOSES

  Seth was out haying. It was noon, and his dinner hour. He and his oldcollie dog, General, were taking their leisure on the slope of Red Willowslough, while the horses, relieved of their bits and traces, were nibblingat the succulent roots of the grass over which the mower had alreadypassed.

  General possessed a sense of duty. His master was apparently sleeping,with his prairie hat drawn over his face. The dog crouched at his feet,struggling hard to keep his eyes open, and remain alert while the otherrested from his labors. But the sun was hot, the scent of the grassoverpowering, and it was difficult.

  At last the man roused and sat up. The dog sprang to his feet. His earswere pricked, and he raced off across the slough. As he went, the sound ofwheels became distinctly audible. Rosebud, seated in a buckboard, anddriving the old farm mare, Hesper, appeared on the opposite side of theslough. She was bringing Seth his dinner.

  A moment later the girl drew rein and sprang out of the vehicle. The heatin no way weighed upon her spirits. She looked as fresh and cool in herwhite linen dress and sun-hat as if it were an early spring day. Herlaughing face was in marked contrast to the man's dark, seriouscountenance. Her dazzling eyes seemed to be endowed with something of thebrilliancy of the sunlight that was so intensely pouring down upon them.

  "Oh, Seth, I'm so sorry!" she cried, in anything but a penitent tone, "butjust as I was starting Wana came up with a note for you, and I'm afraid westopped and talked, and you know what a dozy old mare Hesper is, and shejust went slower than ever, and I hadn't the heart to whack her, she'ssuch a dear, tame old thing, and so I'm ever so late, and I'm afraid yourdinner's all spoiled, and you'll be horribly angry."

  But Seth displayed no anger; he only held out his hand.

  "An' the note?"

  Rosebud thought for a moment. "Whatever did I do with it?" she said,looking about her on the ground. Seth watched her a little anxiously.

  "Who was it from?" he asked.

  "Oh, just the old Agent. I don't suppose it was important, but I know Iput it somewhere."

  "Guess so."

  Seth lifted the dinner-box out of the buckboard. Suddenly Rosebud's facecleared.

  "That's it, Seth. I put it in there. In with the dinner. Oh, and, Seth, Igot Ma to let me bring my dinner out, so we can have a picnic, you and I,and General."

  Seth was bending over the box.

  "Then I guess your dinner's kind o' spoiled too," he said.

  "Oh, that doesn't matter so long as yours isn't. You see it's my ownfault, and serves me right. If it's very nasty we can give it all toGeneral; so it won't be wasted."

  "No, it won't be wasted."

  Rosebud watched her companion remove the things from the box, and wonderedif he were glad or sorry that she was going to have her dinner with him.She had been wildly delighted at the thought of springing this surprise onhim, but now she felt doubtful, and a certain shyness kept her usuallybusy tongue silent. She would have given much to know what Seth thought.That was just where she found the man so unsatisfactory. She never didknow what he really thought about anything.

  Seth found the note, and put it in his pocket. Now he set their meal onthe newly cut grass. Rosebud, with a thoughtfulness hardly to be expectedof her, turned Hesper loose. Then she sat down beside General and put thetin dishes straight, according to her fancy. In silence she helped Seth toa liberal portion of lukewarm stew, and cut the bread. Then she helped thedog, and, finally, herself.

  "Ma's a dear!" she suddenly exclaimed, when the silence had become irksometo her. "She's making me a new dress. It's a secret, and I'm not supposedto know."

  "Ah! An' how d' you find out?"

  "Oh, I asked Pa," Rosebud laughed. "I knew it was something for me. Sowhen he went to look at the new litter of piggies this morning I went withhim, and just asked him. I promised not to give him away. Isn't she adear?"

  "Sure. Guess you like dress fixin's."

  "Love them."

  "Most gals do, I reckon."

  "Well, you see, Seth, most girls love to look nice. Mrs. Rankin, even,says that she'd give the world to get hold of a good dressmaker, and she'smarried. Do you know even Wana likes pretty things, and that's just whatI'd like to talk to you about. You see, I've got twenty dollars saved, andI just thought I would get Wana a nice dress, like white people wear. Imean a good one. Do you know what store I could send to in Sioux City, orOmaha, or even New York?"

  "I ain't much knowledge o' stores an' things. But I 'lows it's a goodnotion."

  The man's brown eyes looked over at the girl as she plied her knife andfork.

  "Maybe," he went on, a moment later, "ther' ain't no need to spend themtwenty dollars. I've got some. Say, you talk to Ma an' fix the letter an'I'll mail it."

  The girl looked up. Seth's kindness had banished the ready laugh for themoment. If her tongue remained silent her eyes spoke. But Seth wasconcerned with his food and saw nothing. Rosebud did not even tenderthanks. She felt that she could not speak thanks at that moment. Herimmediate inclination was a childish one, but the grown woman in herchecked it. A year ago she would have acted differently. At last Sethbroke the silence.

  "Say, Rosebud," he said. "How'd you like a heap o' dollars?"

  But the girl's serious mood had not yet passed. She held out her plate toGeneral, and replied, without looking at her companion.

  "That depends," she said. "You see, I wouldn't like to marry a man withlots of money. Girls who do are never happy. Ma said so. The only otherway to have money is by being clever, and writing, or painting, orplay-acting. And I'm not clever, and don't want to be. Then there aregirls who inherit money, but----"

  "That's jest it," broke in Seth.

  "Just what?" Rosebud turned from the dog and eyed her companioncuriously.

  "Why, s'pose it happened you inherited them dollars?"

  "But I'm not likely to."

  "That's so. But we know your folks must a' been rich by your silk fixin's.Guess you ain't thought o' your folks."

  The girl's sunburnt face took on a confident little smile as she lookedout from under the wide brim of her hat.

  "Oh, yes, I have. I've thought a lot. Where are they, and why don't theycome out and look for me? I can't remember them, though I try hard. Everytime I try I go back to Indians--always Indians. I know I'm not anIndian," she finished up naively.

  "No." Seth lit his pipe. "Guess if we did find 'em you'd have to quit thefarm."

  There was a short silence.

  "Seth, you're always looking for them, I know. Why do you look for them? Idon't want them." Rosebud was patting the broad back of General. "Do youknow, sometimes I think you want to be rid of me. I'm a trouble to you, Iknow."

  "'Tain't that exactly."

  Seth's reply sounded different to what he intended. It sounded to the girlas if he really was seeking her parents to be rid of her. And his mannerwas so deliberate, so short. She scrambled to her feet without a word, andbegan to gather up the dishes. Seth smoked on for a moment or two. But asRosebud showed no sign of continuing the conversation he, too, rose insilence, and went over to Hesper and hitched her to the buckboard. Then hecame back and carried the dinner-box to the vehicle, while Rosebud mountedto the driving-seat.

  "Seth," she said, and her face was slightly flushed, and a little sparkleof resentment was in her eyes, "when you find them I'll go away. I neverlooked at it as you do. Yes, I think I should like that heap ofdollars."

  Seth smiled slowly. But he didn't quite understand her answer.

  "Wal, you see, Rosebud, I'm glad you take it that aways. You see it'sbetter you should go. Yes, much better."

  His thoughts had turned on the Reservations, that one direction in whichthey ever seemed to turn. Rosebud was thinking in another direction. Sethwanted to be rid of her, and was meanly cloaking his desire under theguise of her worldly welfare. The angry flush deepened, and she sat veryerect with her head held high as she drove off. Nor did she turn for herparting sho
t.

  "I hope you'll find them; I want to go," she said.

  Seth made no answer. He watched her until the vehicle dropped down behindthe brow of the farther slope. The girl's attitude was as dignified as shecould make it while she remained in view. After that it was different. AndSeth failed to realize that he had not made his meaning plain. He saw thatRosebud was angry, but he did not pause to consider the cause of heranger.

  He stood where she had left him for some time. He found his task harderthan ever he had thought it would be. But his duty lay straight beforehim, and, with all his might, he would have hurried on his letter toEngland if he could. He knew he could see far ahead in the life of hislittle world as it affected himself and those he loved. He might be adull-witted lover, but he was keen and swift to scent danger here on theplains; and that was what he had already done. Cost him what it might,Rosebud must be protected, and this protection meant her removal.

  He sighed and turned back to his work, but before he went on with it heopened and read the note which Rosebud had thought so unimportant.

  He read it twice over.

  "Little Black Fox applied for 'pass' for hunting. He will probably leave the Reservation in three weeks' time. He will take a considerable number of braves with him; I cannot refuse.

  "J. P."