Межзвёздный скиталец

           Iwasforeverstealingawayfrommotherinmyinsatiablecuriositytoseeeverythingthatwasgoingon,andImanagedtoseeprettymuchofeverything.Insidethecorral,tothesouthofthebigriflepit,themendugaholeandburiedthesevenmenandtwowomenalltogether.OnlyMrs.Hastings,whohadlostherhusbandandfather,mademuchtrouble.Shecriedandscreamedout,andittooktheotherwomenalongtimetoquiether.

           OnthelowhilltotheeasttheIndianskeptupatremendouspowwowingandyelling.Butbeyondanoccasionalharmlessshottheydidnothing.

           “What’sthematterwiththeornerycusses?”Labanimpatientlywantedtoknow.“Can’ttheymakeuptheirmindswhatthey’regoin’todo,an’thendoit?”

           Itwashotinthecorralthatafternoon.Thesunblazeddownoutofacloudlesssky,andtherewasnowind.Themen,lyingwiththeirriflesinthetrenchunderthewagons,werepartlyshaded;butthebigriflepit,inwhichwereoverahundredwomenandchildren,wasexposedtothefullpowerofthesun.Here,too,werethewoundedmen,overwhomweerectedawningsofblankets.Itwascrowdedandstiflinginthepit,andIwasforeverstealingoutofittothefiring-line,andmakingagreatto-doatcarryingmessagesforfather.

           Ourgravemistakehadbeeninnotformingthewagon-circlesoastoinclosethespring.