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Show SS BRIGHT SUNSET CORNER By Frances Rider iiaiiMiifiiniiinM ABOVE the brow of grim El Huerfano Huer-fano a pale pink cloud was fluffing out her rose-edged ruffles. Desbah lifted her dark eyes from the blanket she was weaving. For . . a moment the 3 :,, i. brown hands were n"te still, then they FlCIIOn took up the wool 1 again and the design de-sign continued to grow. She must work while there was still light upon the mile high mesa about her, for inside the hogan it was difficult to blend the grays and browns of the sheep's fleece. A breeze stirred her hair and again her glance sought the cloud. Ah! Just as she had expected, the wind from the north had brought another cloud and although at first the pretty pink cloud slipped behind El Huerfano and pretended to hide, soon the two would touch and merge. Desbah had watched them often. "For quilted clouds are mating, high Above the plains in the summer sky " she and Yazza Yazza the Long was a silversmith. Like many Navajo men he fashioned sturdy enduring jewelry from coin silver and engraved it with simple lines signifying good fortune and long life. Desbah looked down proudly proud-ly at her wrist. Yazza was different from the others. It was he who had made the bracelet she wore. He had decorated deco-rated it with the thunderbird. A square turquoise was set on either side and beside them flowering cacti, symbolizing courtship. It meant that Yazza and she would like to marry and build a squat Coming toward her was a tall figure black against the flaming sky. round hogan of their own. If only they had the money for a license. The winter had been long and cold; and the summer rains -scanty. Her father's sheep bad died off. The few left were weak because they hadn't enough gamma grass. Desbah looked at them now, grazing at a distance among the sun-baked stones. Among them several children played a game with pebbles. The blanket was nearly finished but she could not try to sell it She would have to trade it for overalls and calico and flour. The few remaining re-maining sheep needed salt. EL Huerfano's far lonely peak was afire with the sunset as Desbah rose aad went to the door. Yazza had gone to the mission that afternoon after-noon and soon he would pass on his way back. When Desbah was twelve she had spent a few weeks at the mission school. Only orphans could stay longer. There was too little money. Remembering the services she had attended there she moved her lips in unaccustomed prayer. When she lifted her head she saw a tall figure black against the flaming flam-ing sky. It was Yazza. Coming toward to-ward her he held out his hands showing her many bills and much silver. Desbah had never seen that much money all at once. "Oh, Yazza! Tell me." Yazza spoke with no excitement excite-ment in his voice. "At the mission mis-sion was a letter. The lady read it to me. A store in California wants all my rings, all my pins, all my bracelets. When I make more we will get more money." Beneath the beaded band his eyes sparkled with the glory of the sunset and his own pride, "Yazza, Yazza, it is good. Now we can get the license." "Not yet, my patient one. My parents have debts. I must help them." "But you said there would be more money when you make more bracelets and pins." "Yes, my patient one, but first " Yazza drew from his pocket a jewellike jewel-like piece of petrified stone. "Why do you think I polished and polished this tiny stone?" Shyly Desbah looked into Yazza's eyes. "For our wedding ring?" "For our wedding ring. Tonight I will burn the candle low while I make the ring for you." "Then tomorrow you will make the things to sell?" "Tomorrow, my patient one, will make the things to sell." Shadows slipped along the sides of El Huerfano and filled the ar-royo. ar-royo. From behind the tall lonely peak slipped into view one cloud with just a tinge of pink ruffles al one edge. |