"Evans, Tabor - Longarm 189 - Longarm and the Apache Plunder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Tabor)and Chiricahua. Yet the Great White Father, in his infinite wisdom,
wants me scouting the hornet's nest he just heaved a rock through. I swear, the War Department must have dozens of congressmen's kids who just made second lieutenant and want that pretty red-and-blue campaign ribbon, even though so many Quill Indians have sued for peace. I suppose you hadn't read about the BIA fixing to move the Jicarilla down to Tularosa Canyon, eh?" Vail shrugged. "Sure I read about it. I read everything. The powers that be feel the army will have a better handle on the really treacherous Mescalero Apache if they move 'em over to study war no more with their Chiricahua allies at San Carlos, under tighter rein from Fort Apache just next door." When he saw he was getting no argument from Longarm about that, he continued with a bemused frown. "Moving the Mescalero out of Tularosa Canyon leaves an established BIA agency with nobody to agent for. So I reckon that's why they're fixing to move the far smaller Jicarilla nation south from that marginal mountain reserve and teach them real farming in-" "Bullshit!" Longarm said, scowling like hell. "It's a pure and simple land grab! The Jicarilla gave us a hell of a fight, surrendered under honorable terms, and were ceded barely more than a hundred square miles of mountain scenery nobody else had any use for at the time. But desert scrub the Mescalero keep running away from because there's no way even Na-dene could get by on hunting and food-gathering alone. That's what the folks we call Treacherous Apache call themselves, Na-dene." Vail snorted, "Don't tell your granny how to suck eggs, or offer an ex-Texas Ranger lectures on Mister Lo, The Poor Indian. You won't get no argument from this child if you want to pine the U.S. Army has enough on its plate with Victorio and his bunch this summer. But you're wrong if you think I'd fib about Indians to any deputy who's been riding for me six or eight years. I don't know who told you the Mesa de los Viejos is within thirty miles of the Jicarilla agency at Dulce by crow, but-" "Now who's teaching whose granny to suck eggs?" Longarm said with a thin smile. "It ain't as if New Mexico Territory is stuck to the back of the moon. How many times have we been asked to help the new territorial government clean up after the Santa Fe Ring left over from poor old Grant and his political bandits?" Vail sighed. "'Political bandit' is a redundancy. I told you I read a heap. They call it a redundancy when you use two words to low-rate the same thing. Calling a politician a bandit is as needless as calling a woman of the town a whore, or an Apache an ornery Quill Indian. Man will cure the clap and fly to the moon before he ever gets the banditry out of politics. But speaking of bandits, I was trying to tell you |
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