Fair Land, Fair Land by A. B. Guthrie Jr. Page A

smooth, his
face was a little pinched up between nose and chin as if he found
things to laugh at.
    " Major Dawson is the actual agent here, I'm so
often away," Culbertson said. "Business in St. Louis and
elsewhere."
    Dawson shook his head, a small smile on his lips.
"The de facto factor just in his absence."
    The men were all dressed in town clothes — cloth
coats, cloth pants, cloth vests, neckties. No place for buckskins,
Higgins thought. No place for worn and soiled leather. But what the
hell?
    Culbertson opened a door and said, "Dinner is
ready."
    There was a table in the room with a white cloth on
it. There were knives and forks, spoons and glasses. Culbertson asked
them to be seated, showing them where. A woman came in with a bottle.
A part-blood, she wore a skirt and a blouse. "A little wine for
thy stomach's sake, Reverend?" Culbertson asked as the woman
started to pour.
    " How can I refuse when the words are in the
book? But first, brothers, please, the blessing."
    He had a passel of things to say to the Lord before
he came to amen.
    The woman brought in a hump roast on a platter. Next
time in, she carried a big bowl of hominy and a saucer of sliced
onions in vinegar.
    " The Lord's bounty," Potter said, eyeing
the food. "His infinite bounty."
 
" It
will be more bounteous when the boats start arriving,"
Culbertson said while he carved. "Meat and hominy, that's
standard winter fare. And this is the last of the onions."
    " There'll be a slew of 'em growin' wild in
two-three weeks," Higgins said, just to be part of the talk.
    Dawson smiled at him, nodding. "Right."
    " I suppose you live mostly on straight meat?"
Culbertson asked Higgins.
    " Only kind of. Summers' woman knows a lot about
wild stuff, roots and leaves and berries and such. We live pretty
good."
    Potter swallowed a mouthful of meat, chased it with a
drink of water and said, "The man's wife, you mean?"
    " Well —— "
    Culbertson came to his rescue. "You pitch us
into a subject I had thought to talk about later. Perhaps it's just
as well. The man, Dick Summers, I count with our better men."
    Higgins said, "Count higher."
    Culbertson smiled and went on. "For a number of
years he has lived with an Indian woman. They have a child now. He
wants to be married, but not by a priest."
    Potter said, "I see."
    " Pity you're not a Presbyterian," Dawson
put in.
    " Let not us Protestants quarrel," Potter
told him. "I wouldn't say the same of the Papists." He went
back to his plate.
    " To go on," Culbertson said, "it would
take most of a week for Summers and his family to get here. Can you
wait, Brother Potter?"
    Potter passed his plate for more meat. He chewed and
thought. "I could perform the ceremony there."
    Higgins took a long breath. "It's a long ways. I
been makin' cold camps."
    " I wouldn't advise it," Dawson told him.
    " I would go in the hands of the Lord and fear
not."
    Culbertson put his folded hands on the table. "You
wouldn't have to be afraid of our Blackfeet with Higgins leading you.
He is by way of becoming a legend. May I tell him, Hig?"
    " If you want to."
    " The Blackfeet call Higgins Broken Mouth, the
Friend of the Great Bear. And his friend, Summers, he is the Bear
Maker. Come a pinch, he can summon the white bear out of the ground,
out of the air, out of nowhere, but there it will be."
    Higgins said, "That was a long while ago."
    " That's why it's a legend. Tell how it all came
about, Hig."
    "Summers does better."
    " Belief in miracles is not restricted to us,"
Dawson said, not as if it mattered.
    "Go ahead, Hig."
    So he told them about Old Ephraim and the meeting
with the Blackfeet and Old Ephraim towering up just in time.
    Potter had cleaned his plate. He leaned back and told
them, "I must meet this man Summers."
    " You won't be disappointed," Culbertson
said. "Say, Hig, what's his interest in a killing that occurred
four or six years ago?"
    " You got me."
    " It seems that two men friends, white, coveted
the same Blackfoot girl. Or maybe one