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Fanfare, November 1950
Page 8
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[[illustration text]] CONCOTION by Tom Covington NSHARE [[end illustration text]] Zing! "Ug," he had felt the wind from that last one on his ear. Swish,swish, plunk-swish, two more arrows shot on either side of Chief Eagle Eye's shining dome and another ricochetted off a nearby tree. He ran with all the speed his scrawny, tanned legs could muster. His feet literally flew over the rocky ground. And he had reason to run! Thirty yards behind him, speeding along almost as fast as he, came a horde of very mad, revenge-bent Indian braves,who loaded their bows with alarming rapidity and discharged arrows with awful accuracy. Howls of wild emotion poured from their throats, and the gleam of murder flamed in their eyes. Chief Eagle Eye cursed the arrows, the warriors behind him, the trees which loomed in front as he ran, and, above all and most vehemently, the fate that had shorn him of his hair. Two more arrows whirred by as Chief Eagle Eye hurled himself into a high thicket of briar bushes. There, at least, they wouldn't be able to see him for a few precious moments. He crashed into the brush and right into a vine-covered ditch of muddy water! Now, with this delay, he would surely be caught! As he started to raise himself on all fours to emerge from the scummy water, there was a thumping of running feet, and, glancing through the bushes, he saw one of them coming. Just before the bronzed body hurled above him, Chief Eagle Eye plopped back down into the ditch. He remained hidden there while the rest of his pursuers passed overhead. Some ten minutes later a tired and weary wreck of an Indian Chief pulled himself slowly out of the ditch and started off aimlessly. He was no longer angry but disappointed. True, they had tied him to a pole and proceeded to roast him, or started to; true that when he had escaped they had tried to put a few poison-tipped arrows through his bronzed back; but still, he loved as well as envied every hair on their heads. It was not their fault that his hair had fallen out. They hadn't really wanted to hurt him. He had been chief before most of them were born; they loved him; but law was law. In fact, he had helped make the very law that was not responsible for his predicament. He had sat in that council, years ago, and discussed with the rest
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[[illustration text]] CONCOTION by Tom Covington NSHARE [[end illustration text]] Zing! "Ug," he had felt the wind from that last one on his ear. Swish,swish, plunk-swish, two more arrows shot on either side of Chief Eagle Eye's shining dome and another ricochetted off a nearby tree. He ran with all the speed his scrawny, tanned legs could muster. His feet literally flew over the rocky ground. And he had reason to run! Thirty yards behind him, speeding along almost as fast as he, came a horde of very mad, revenge-bent Indian braves,who loaded their bows with alarming rapidity and discharged arrows with awful accuracy. Howls of wild emotion poured from their throats, and the gleam of murder flamed in their eyes. Chief Eagle Eye cursed the arrows, the warriors behind him, the trees which loomed in front as he ran, and, above all and most vehemently, the fate that had shorn him of his hair. Two more arrows whirred by as Chief Eagle Eye hurled himself into a high thicket of briar bushes. There, at least, they wouldn't be able to see him for a few precious moments. He crashed into the brush and right into a vine-covered ditch of muddy water! Now, with this delay, he would surely be caught! As he started to raise himself on all fours to emerge from the scummy water, there was a thumping of running feet, and, glancing through the bushes, he saw one of them coming. Just before the bronzed body hurled above him, Chief Eagle Eye plopped back down into the ditch. He remained hidden there while the rest of his pursuers passed overhead. Some ten minutes later a tired and weary wreck of an Indian Chief pulled himself slowly out of the ditch and started off aimlessly. He was no longer angry but disappointed. True, they had tied him to a pole and proceeded to roast him, or started to; true that when he had escaped they had tried to put a few poison-tipped arrows through his bronzed back; but still, he loved as well as envied every hair on their heads. It was not their fault that his hair had fallen out. They hadn't really wanted to hurt him. He had been chief before most of them were born; they loved him; but law was law. In fact, he had helped make the very law that was not responsible for his predicament. He had sat in that council, years ago, and discussed with the rest
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