SHEAVES
By
E. F. BENSON
Author of “The Angel of Pain,” “Dodo,” etc.
FOURTH EDITION
New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
Copyright, 1907, byDoubleday, Page & CompanyPublished, October, 1907
All Rights ReservedIncluding that of Translation into Foreign LanguagesIncluding the Scandinavian{1}
SHEAVES
| CHAPTER: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XIX. |
CHAPTER I
THE long and ferocious battle between those desperate wild Indians,Chopimalive and his squaw Sitonim (otherwise known as Jim and Daisy Rye)and the intrepid trader, Hugh Grainger, had come to an end, and theintrepid trader lay dead on the hayfield. He had still (which was a gooddeal to ask of a dead man) to carry on and direct the Indians’subsequent movements, and with praiseworthy disregard of self and scornof consequence, he had said that it was necessary to bury him withmusical honours in the arid sands of the American desert, and “RuleBritannia” would do. He had, however, hinted that if his body and legswere buried, that would be quite sufficient in the way of ritual; butthe Indians had thought otherwise, and had covered his head also. Thenthe Indians, being inconveniently hot, had sat down close to his tomb,with threats that unless he lay really dead they would bury him muchdeeper.
“Dead traders always have their faces uncovered,” said Hugh.
“This one didn’t,” remarked Chopimalive.
“But the squaw always came and uncovered his face afterward, immediatelyafterward,” said Hugh, “otherwise his ghost haunted them and woke themup about midnight with the touch of an icy hand.”
“Well, your hand wasn’t at all icy,” said Sitonim{4} scornfully. “It wasvery hot—as hot as me. Besides, you’re dead, and you can’t talk.”
Hugh coughed away some bits of clover that had got into his mouth.
“I’m not talking,” he said; “it’s the voice from the tomb. And if youdon’t take the tomb off my face, my ghost will let itself down to-nightfr