Page:Laughing Boy-1929.djvu/261

This page needs to be proofread.

LavucHiING Boy 249 He notched the fourth arrow meticulously, drew to the head, released. The twang of the string echoed and reéchoed over great spaces. At the sound, he became aware of agony pent up behind his mind like high waters behind a too-slight dam, about to break through and carry away. At the same time, with the instant of releasing the string, he saw her open right hand pass across the face of the bow, her left arm rise. Now she stood, smiling stiffly, her eyes her own again. Her right hand was still in front of the bow in a stiff, quaint gesture. There was blood on the tips of the fin- gers. The arrow stood, through nearly to the feathers, in her left forearm. He saw her as at a great distance. This was all wrong, something impossible had happened. She held her arm up rigidly, her lips remained set in that stiff smile. In a moment she was going to speak. The feelings and realizations were coming upon him. He lifted the reins and rode slowly around the corner of the house. The stallion watched him nervously. ‘Go your way, little brother.” He watched the animal as he rode past, then he contemplated the ears of his mount. ‘You are saddled and ridden, but you are better off than I. This would be a good world if we were all geldings, I think.’

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.