“Nature of the beast, I suppose,” returned Neal coolly. “It gets into the blood and you can’t get rid of it. It’s masculine, I reckon, though there’s female women who have it too.”
“Yes, there was Joan of Arc, you know.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of her. They ketched her and burned her. I don’t just recollect who it was did it, but I don’t think it was Injuns.” Neal gravely tried to recall his somewhat limited knowledge of the facts.
“No, it was done by the French. They pretended to think she was a witch.”
“So they did. Well, we did some witch-burning ourselves way back there, so we in the States can’t call the kettle black. That’s what I think sometimes when the boys go to pitchin’ into the Injuns.”
“But we were never as cruel as they.”
“No, but we were smart enough, big enough and ugly enough to know better than to burn women and to cut off people’s ears because they didn’t go to the same church as we did. I’m an Injun fighter from way back, but I ain’t so sure that I wouldn’t do as they do, if I wasn’t any more civilized, and if I was run off my land as they are. We’ve got to run ’em, of course, but in spite of that I reckon they can claim that there ain’t justice done every time.”
Alison regarded him thoughtfully. She had heard others talk less mercifully and yet she knew no man was braver, more ready to rush into action, to lead a band against the Indians, than this same Neal Jordan. Ira Korner, too, was noted for his fearlessness, but he had not Neal’s sense of justice. “Then you wouldn’t fight now if you didn’t believe it right,” the girl said.
“No,” was the reply. “As it is, we only want our own. We claim a certain boundary, you know; the Mexicans say we want more than is coming to us and they are ready to go to war about it. We don’t mean to have them grab what we have a right to and we are perfectly willing to fight, too. That’s what it’s all about. I suppose we wouldn’t be quite so fierce if we didn’t remember the way they did us back in ’36 when they slaughtered every man at the Alamo, and when they gave no quarter at Goliad. We are glad of the chance of paying off old scores and are not above being ready for revenge.”
“I don’t wonder at that,” returned Alison, her eyes kindling. “John has had that in mind ever since our father fell fighting for Texas. John is my only brother, but when I think of father I cannot say a word, and I mean to give him all the encouragement I can.”