Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 13
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AndasourtrainrolledonIcontinuedtolookbackatLaban,standinginhisstirrupsbythebaby’sgrave.Trulyhewasaweirdfigure,withhislonghair,hismoccasins,andfringedleggings.Sooldandweather-beatenwashisbuckskinshirtthatraggedfilaments,hereandthere,showedwhereproudfringesoncehadbeen.Hewasamanofflyingtatters.Iremember,athiswaist,dangleddirtytuftsofhairthat,farbackinthejourney,afterashowerofrain,werewonttoshowglossyblack.TheseIknewwereIndianscalps,andthesightofthemalwaysthrilledme.
“Itwilldohimgood,”fathercommended,moretohimselfthantome.“I’vebeenlookingfordaysforhimtoblowup.”
“Iwishhe’dgobackandtakeacoupleofscalps,”Ivolunteered.
Myfatherregardedmequizzically.
“Don’tliketheMormons,eh,son?”
Ishookmyheadandfeltmyselfswellingwiththeinarticulatehatethatpossessedme.
“WhenIgrowup,”Isaid,afteraminute,“I’mgoin’gunningforthem.”
“You,Jesse!”camemymother’svoicefrominsidethewagon.“Shutyourmouthinstanter.”Andtomyfather:“Yououghttobeashamedlettingtheboytalkonlikethat.
