Probably the dogs could not guess either.
Within the house two or three young girls were moving about, singing and
clattering dishes in a delightfully promising manner. Down the winding
hill, for Sycamore Flats proved after all to be built irregularly on a
slope, he could make out several other scattered houses, each with its
dooryard, and the larger structures of several stores. Over all loomed
the dark mountain. The sun had just dropped below the ridge down which
the road had led them, but still shone clear and golden as an overlay of
colour laid against the sombre pines on the higher slopes.
After an excellent chicken supper, Bob lit his pipe and wandered down
the street. The larger structures, three in number, now turned out to be
a store and two saloons. A dozen saddle horses dozed patiently. On the
platform outside the store a dozen Indian women dressed in bright calico
huddled beneath their shawls. After squatting thus in brute immobility
for a half-hour, one of them would purchase a few pounds of flour or a
half-pound of tea. Then she would take her place again with the others.
At the end of another half-hour another, moved by some sudden and
mysterious impulse, would in turn make her purchases.
Pages:
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249