The Bridal of the Bluestem 



"A thorny wee vine in the grass 



Feeds life to the sensitive rose." 



sometimes till he was almost starved, but he enjoyed the 

 feast all the more when she returned. Albeit, he could not 

 live long without her. He was willing to pay any price to 

 possess her. But the prairies looked dreary now without the 

 sight of her. Bluestem looked and thought he could see 

 in the dim distance a ranchman mowing grass in the draw. 

 If Beauty was hiding in the hay, would the ranchman's 

 sickle wound her feet? Would the hard-hoofed horses trample 

 on her robes? Such were the unspoken queries of Blue- 

 stem's love. He shook his head doubtfully as a gust of wind 

 dashed by. Far away he seemed to see something that 

 resembled tossing plumes. Was it the vanguard of Beauty? 

 Would she soon return? No other question could be of 

 moment till this found answer. He would not wait. He 



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