File:The talking leaves - an Indian story (1882) (14803062803).jpg

Identifier: talkingleavesind00stod (find matches)
Title: The talking leaves : an Indian story
Year: 1882 (1880s)
Authors: Stoddard, William Osborn, 1835-1925
Subjects: Indians of North America Children Conduct of life Friendship Hunting Outdoor life Fathers and daughters Reading Apache Indians
Publisher: New York : Harper & Brothers
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

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ar that Many Bears could musterquite a strong reserve, as the soldiers call it, after all histried and chosen warriors had ridden away with him at theirhead. The fighting fever seemed to be spreading after breakfast,and the squaws too got out their bows and arrows, and sodid the smaller boys. It looked as if any enemy who shouldride into the camp of that band of Apaches that day wouldfind it a sort of hornets nest, with all the hornets, big andlittle, practising their stings. Ni-ha-be and Rita were like the rest, and more than oneyoung brave, who had never yet been in any kind of abattle, looked enviously at the pretty young chiefs daughterwho could already boast of having sent an arrow throughthe arm of a full-grown pale-face warrior, and helped defeathim and his dangerous companions. That was a bright feather for the cap of any Indian girl,and she had been compelled to tell the story of it over andover again to the other squaws. They came to hear it over now, for it was closely con-
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The Talking Leaves. 195 nected in their minds with the warlike preparations and theevident anxiety of their chief. Ugh I scornfully remarked old Two Many Toes. Pale-face have soft arm. Hold it up for little girl to shoot at.Then laugh at her. Spose pale-face come here. I showem. Yes, rejoined Ni-ha-be, with a flash in her black eyes.Pale-face look at you, see your face, run right away.Afraid youll talk. Hear you once, then they never comeagain. The laughter among the other squaws sounded as if theywere not disposed to admire Too Many Toes, but she hadsomething else to say. Little girl take prisoners and then let them go. Justlike pale-face blue-coat. No sense. I kill every one. Yousee! You ? said Ni-ha-be. The only prisoner you evertook was a little rabbit of a mule. Hes alive now. Youcouldnt even talk him to death. She talks too much now, added a dignified middle-agedsquaw. Get beaten again. We want to know whatscoming. Warriors keep it all to themselves. Did Ni-ha-behear of many pal

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