Page:Helen Hunt--Ramona.djvu/481

Rh “Thet's so, I allow ter yeow,” said Aunt Ri. “Thar ain't any gainsayin' thet. But ef yeow've got power ter git a man put in jail fur sellin' whiskey 't 'n Injun, 'n' hain't got power to git him punished ef he goes 'n' kills thet Injun, 't sems ter me thar's suthin' cur'us abaout thet.”

“That is just the trouble in my position here, Aunt Ri,” he said. “I have no real power over my Indians, as I ought to have.”

“What makes yer call 'em yeour Injuns?” broke in Aunt Ri.

The Agent colored. Aunt Ri was a privileged character, but her logical method of questioning was inconvenient.

“I only mean that they are under my charge,” he said. “I don't mean that they belong to me in any way.”

“Wall, I allow not,” retorted Aunt Ri, “enny more 'n I dew. They air airnin' their livin', sech 's 'tis, ef yer kin call it a livin'. I've been 'mongst 'em, naow, they hyar last tew weeks, 'n' I allow I've had my eyes opened ter some things. What's thet docter er yourn, him thet they call the Agency doctor,—what's he got ter do?”

“To attend to the Indians of this Agency when they are sick,” replied the Agent, promptly.

“Wall, thet's what I heern; thet's what yeow sed afore, 'n' thet's why Alessandro, the Injun thet wuz murdered,—thet's why he put his name down 'n yeour books, though 't went agin him orful ter do it. He wuz high-spereted, 'n' 'd allers took keer er hisself; but he'd ben druv out er fust one place 'n' then another, tell he'd got clar down, 'n' pore; 'n' he jest begged thet doctor er yourn to go to see his little gal, 'n' the docter wouldn't; 'n' more'n thet, he laughed at him fur askin'. 'N' they set the little thing on the hoss ter bring her here, 'n' she died afore they'd come