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Austin, Mary Hunter, 1868-1934

"The Trail Book"

We heard the swish of the
boughs, heavy with new snow, and then silence.
"But if we had not been able to forget him after the first meeting, you
can guess how often we talked of him in the little time that was left
us. It was not long. Tiakens nearly died of the chill he got, and the
elders were stirred up at last to break up our band before it led to
more serious folly. Ongyatasse was hurried off with a hunting-party to
Maumee, and I was sent to my mother's brother at Flint Ridge to learn
stone-working.
"Not that I objected," said the Tallega. "I have the arrow-maker's
hand." He showed the children his thumb set close to the wrist, the long
fingers and the deep-cupped palm with the callus running down the
middle. "All my family were clever craftsmen," said the Tallega. "You
could tell my uncle's points anywhere you found them by the fine, even
flaking, and my mother was the best feather-worker in Three Towns,"--he
ran his hands under the folds of his mantle and held it out for the
children to admire the pattern. "Uncle gave me this banner stone as the
wage of my summer's work with him, and I thought myself overpaid at
the time.


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