rdr\c
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 
 x.
 
 SENATOR INTRIGUE 
 
 AND 
 
 INSPECTOR NOSEBY 
 
 A TALE OF SPOILS 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCES CAMPBELL SPARHAWK 
 
 Author of "Onoqua," "A Wedding Tangle," 
 "Chronicle of Conquest" etc. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 RID-LKTTER PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 1895
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1894 
 BY 
 
 FRANCES CAMPBELL SPARHAWX 
 
 All rights reterved. 
 
 STANDARD Puss 
 FXDBKAL ST., BOSTON, MAK.
 
 00 
 
 ALL WHO WISH OURS TO BE A 
 
 LAND OF HONOR AND NOT OF "SPOILS," 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BY 
 
 F. C. S. 
 
 753407
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " You are much condemn'd to have an itching palm; 
 To sell and mart your offices for gold 
 To undeservers," 
 
 said the old Roman to his colleague. 
 
 Two thousand years ago the " spoils " system 
 was a dishonor. 
 
 Yet today our land of churches and missions and 
 all benevolences bears this stigma of " Spoils." 
 
 At least, we ought to be better financiers than 
 to give money with one hand to Indian missions 
 and with the other to vote into office men whose 
 example does more to demoralize the Indians 
 than we can build up in thrice the time. What 
 use to say that our rulers do this, when we make 
 the rulers ? " If it were in one party alone, the 
 evil could be easily met," we say? 
 
 It will be met now, when all honest men every- 
 where arm themselves with justice and law, and 
 march against it. 
 
 Let us open our eyes to the evils that " Spoils " 
 is marshalling on all sides of us, let us form 
 against it, charge, and overthrow it. 
 
 Among the many faults that critics will find in 
 this book, the author points out one. It does 
 not tell one half enough of the mischief and 
 disaster that follow in the wake of " Spoils." 
 
 F. C. S. 
 
 NEWTON CENTRE, MASS.
 
 SENATOR INTRIGUE 
 
 AND 
 
 INSPECTOR NOSEBY; 
 
 A Tale of Spoils. 
 
 I. 
 
 f HE wind swept along the 
 road clouds of dust that now 
 chased, now rose and danced 
 on before the riders as if it 
 were a part of the grotesque procession 
 that was galloping and checking and 
 wheeling, turning and returning, weaving 
 itself in and out like the bright threads 
 of a braid, now in view, now disappear- 
 ing, now glancing out again far up or far 
 down the road, to lose itself once more, 
 and reappear. Flashes of yellow and
 
 IO 
 
 blue and scarlet, long streamers of all 
 hues danced and waved along this road, 
 and, with the earth running level as the 
 sea to the very horizon, stood out against 
 the radiant sky only more vivid than 
 themselves. 
 
 And the dark hue of the wearers as 
 they sped by added the sombre touch 
 that was needed to bring out the full 
 picturesqueness of this procession. 
 
 In the distance and the haste, who 
 could see whether grime had combined 
 with sun to produce this hue ? Who 
 could see how soiled and worn were 
 these streamers ? Or, in the swift pas- 
 sage, who could see how these flashing 
 eyes failed in the steady light that re- 
 veals the awakened mind, and how these 
 faces lacked the lines of thought and 
 power that come with mental growth ? 
 The human animal was wide awake and 
 filled with the sparkle that glowed in the 
 sky and the wine of life quaffed with 
 every breath of the glorious air.
 
 II 
 
 On three sides stretched out the 
 plain, like the tropic ocean in a calm, 
 and on the other rose the divide, as if it 
 were the long swell of the coming wave. 
 
 On the slope of it, and all along the 
 top, as if this crest were breaking into 
 foam, the tents of the Indians shone 
 white in the sunlight. 
 
 For it was June ; and ration day in the 
 Indian Territory. 
 
 On went the tumultuous procession, 
 leaving far behind the rough buildings 
 of the agency and the commissariat and 
 the broad road that here, as elsewhere, 
 marked the incipient Western town. 
 Up over the divide wound the trail, and 
 down the slope to the river which was 
 running peacefully now within its banks 
 stretched out so far beyond the shallow 
 water that they stood in grotesque dis- 
 use all through the summer heat, but 
 could scarcely hold the swollen, turbid 
 torrent which in the autumn rains and 
 spring freshets roared and plunged
 
 12 
 
 through the yearly distending gorges. 
 The stream many a time had swept away 
 man and horse, but for its very danger 
 it held over these wild natures the sway 
 of its own wildness. 
 
 And now, as men and women, boys 
 and girls, the greater part of them on 
 horseback, a few in wagons, more rare 
 upon the reservations in those days than 
 at present, forded the placid river, some 
 of them told with many gestures the 
 stories of their adventures here or spoke 
 with lower breath of those whose last, 
 fatal adventure had been here. 
 
 Then up the further slope they went 
 and on again along the prairie, where 
 the trail was lost in the flower-starred 
 grass, dipped down into the brush that 
 grew in the hollows, and wound on to a 
 part of the divide several miles away 
 that, being the highest ground in the 
 neighborhood, did duty as a hill. 
 
 Here was the stockade. The cattle to 
 be issued had been driven here after the
 
 '3 
 
 rounding up of the afternoon before. 
 Here the Indians collected to the num- 
 ber of hundreds, talking, laughing, greet- 
 ing their friends from a distance, and 
 carrying on more or less that business 
 dear to the human heart, whether savage 
 or civilized, bargaining. But under all 
 there was attention to the occupation of 
 the day as they watched for the issue to , 
 begin. 
 
 When it came to the branding of the 
 cattle, a little man with hair as black as 
 an Indian's and a complexion nearly as 
 dark, moved farther away from the stock- 
 ade and stood with his black brows 
 drawn together until they ridged them- 
 selves in a heavy line of protest above 
 his brilliant eyes. 
 
 But he made no comment. This cru- 
 elty was one of the lessons that Uncle 
 Sam was teaching his red wards. The 
 little man was not here to inveigh 
 against Government methods. 
 
 When all was ready the Indians gath-
 
 ered themselves to the work as if it were 
 one of the old games of Indian torture. 
 
 The poor victims, wild with terror and 
 agony, fleeing for life without a possibil- 
 ity of success, ran the dreadful gauntlet 
 which ended for them only with the fatal 
 shot. And more than once this came 
 from the unerring aim of the little dark 
 man ; more than once his determined 
 hand struck down the drawn bow with 
 its arrow ready in the hands of a boy to 
 bury itself in the creature it could not kill. 
 
 " You're no shots," he cried to the In- 
 dians in a tone that made them wince. 
 
 " We not want to kill too soon," re- 
 turned Accowvootz stopping to reload 
 as he spoke. 
 
 " Do you expect a poor brute to stand 
 torture the way the Indian braves used 
 to?" retorted Sayre. " What's the fun 
 of hitting where there's no chance to hit 
 back ? " he added with that accent of 
 contempt which never failed to make its 
 impression on the Indians.
 
 Queseo, the Indian chief, took a step 
 nearer. He drew the folds of his blan- 
 ket together majestically and stood look- 
 ing at Sayre. The white lines of wrin- 
 kles with which his dark face was seamed 
 shaped themselves into a bitter smile. 
 
 " Not so in the old days," he said. 
 "The Indian hunted his bears and 
 wolves, the wild animals ; he took his 
 chances then. It's the great father at 
 Washington that coops up his hunt and 
 sends us old cows that don't know how 
 to run, nor to fight." 
 
 Accowvootz had dropped his gun and 
 stood listening. Pow-watz, the medicine 
 man, came up with a long stride, all the 
 craft in his face flaming up in delight at 
 this rebuke to the white man. Mannab 
 and Antelope and Humpback stood 
 around watching. 
 
 The little dark man gazed around 
 him, straight into the eyes of one and 
 another of them with an almost imper- 
 ceptible hardening of nerve. Then his
 
 i6 
 
 face suddenly relaxed ; he threw back 
 his head with a laugh. " That's so," he 
 said ; and nodded. 
 
 " Ya, ya, that's so," returned the Ind- 
 ians ; and nodded and laughed also. 
 
 " But you wouldn't be satisfied not to 
 shoot at something," he added. " When 
 you're ready we'll show you something 
 better." 
 
 " You mean about the hole in the 
 ground ? " questioned Wolf's Teeth who 
 had drawn near and with the butt of his 
 rifle resting on his foot, stood gazing 
 down into the muzzle. 
 
 "Look out!" vociferated the white 
 man. " Do you want to blow your head 
 off? You won't make good beef; you're 
 too tough." 
 
 Wolf's Teeth pulled himself up and 
 joined in the guffaw that followed. 
 Then he repeated his question about the 
 hole in the ground. 
 
 " Come tomorrow and see," returned 
 Sayre, moving off as he spoke.
 
 I? 
 
 " Ya, ya, we all come tomorrow," the 
 Indians called after him as he mounted 
 and galloped back to the agency 
 
 As he went, he carried with him the 
 picture of a young girl whom he had 
 singled out from many because he knew 
 her to be gentle and teachable. She 
 was Wolf Teeth's daughter. There she 
 squatted with women and other girls 
 down among the dead and dying animals. 
 With her long knife she had begun to 
 cut strips of the palpitating flesh from 
 which the life had not yet ebbed away. 
 Soon (he had seen it before) , her hands 
 would be filled with the horrid entrails 
 and she would be devouring them like a 
 hungry animal, as she was. 
 
 The white man recalled that there 
 must have been a time when his race 
 also was like this, in days so long gone 
 by as to be forgotten. His reading had 
 not been extensive. It did not picture 
 to him a scene of today in which gallant 
 gentlemen and gay ladies, habited most
 
 i8 
 
 daintily, mounted most superbly, went 
 bolting over hedge and ditch in a land 
 where every hill and vale bear impress 
 of the cultivation of centuries. It did 
 not show him the victim of their hunt 
 pulled down by dogs and selling his 
 poor life with desperate courage. It did 
 not picture to him the fairest and the 
 gayest in all that train kneeling and with 
 her own hands severing the brush from 
 the still palpitating fox. It did not show 
 her to him carrying this home in token 
 of a victory of which she would hear her 
 praises sung in evening hours of song 
 and gayety in that land across the sea 
 which holds itself the proudest and the 
 highest in all the earth. The one 
 woman's act was through hunger ; the 
 other's for sheer sport. The first was 
 only a poor savage ; the last a lady of 
 high degree. 
 
 Is this the distinction that is worth a 
 thousand years of civilization ? 
 
 But as Sayre knew nothing of this, he
 
 19 
 
 thought only of the savagery, and 
 longed for a better law. 
 
 And yet, today, when the better law 
 has come, where are the appliances 
 which can make it anything but a dead 
 letter? The benevolence that guards 
 the dumb creatures here stretches no 
 arm of law out to the Indian reserva- 
 tions. And to the great American civil- 
 ization these men and women of the 
 same blood as the white race are a 
 thousand years behind. 
 
 A thousand years behind a people 
 who travel by electricity ! Hopeless ! 
 
 How much we have done and how 
 much forgotten since the day when the 
 balance trembled between English pos- 
 session and French possession of this 
 continent, and the weight of an Indian's 
 hand in friendship turned it, for us. 
 
 Sayre went on thoughtful. But his 
 were the thoughts that speedily ripen 
 into action. For, the force in the man 
 was no galvanism of office, but vitality.
 
 He had already been here for several 
 years ; he had made the Indian charac- 
 ter a study. It was not strange, there- 
 fore, that he had acquired a certain as- 
 cendency over the Indians although he 
 held no post of authority, being only the 
 trader's clerk. 
 
 It was October, and nearly a month 
 since Sayre had drawn up the first 
 bucket of good water from that " hole in 
 the ground," the growth of which the 
 Indians had watched with such interest. 
 Even Accowvootz, the critical, had de- 
 cided that the promised water was fine. 
 Then he looked into Sayre's face with a 
 slow, shrewd smile. 
 
 " You say it better than firewater ? " 
 he added meaningly. 
 
 " Well, isn't it?" asked the other. 
 
 Accowvootz pointed to the open door 
 of the trader's store, where at the mo- 
 ment an officer who had come down the 
 day before was standing at the counter
 
 21 
 
 stirring the liquor in his tumbler vigor- 
 ously ; he had held it his first duty to 
 inspect the drinks which it was possible 
 for a white man in authority to get upon 
 this reservation, and the trader knew 
 well that the more satisfactory these 
 were found to be, the better would be 
 his report. His experiment had made 
 him desirous to try again. Accowvootz' 
 eyes narrowed, and a keen ray shot out 
 from them as he said, 
 
 " The white man not think that. I 
 think like the white man." 
 
 Upon the spot Sayre had registered a 
 vow which he never broke. For, from 
 that day no firewater passed his lips. 
 His Indians should not be drunkards 
 from his example. 
 
 But in spite of this preference for fire- 
 water in accordance with the white man's 
 ways, the well was freely patronized 
 by the Indians. It was on account of 
 the enforcement of a regulation of 
 Sayre's in regard to this well that this
 
 22 
 
 October morning the Indians were hold- 
 ing an impromptu council. Wolf's 
 Teeth and Wahbotz had come riding 
 furiously into camp. They had an- 
 nounced that they had been to the well 
 for water, and the white man had forbid- 
 den it to them. He had told the Indi- 
 ans to use the well, and now he had 
 not only refused these two a drink, but 
 he had driven them away. They had 
 done nothing. They had refused to go ; 
 and he had made them go. They had 
 ridden up to the well. Why not? But 
 he had put a fence all around. 
 
 "And now he say, 'Get down, In- 
 dian ; your horse's feet muddy the water ; 
 jump off and walk inside and drink.' 
 We not be told how to drink," growled 
 Wahbotz. 
 
 " He order us all the time," hissed 
 Accowvootz. " He not white chief here; 
 we are the head men ; we teach him to 
 do as we please." 
 
 Pow-watz drew nearer to the younger
 
 23 
 
 men who had brought back news of their 
 defeat. 
 
 " He make you go ? " he asked them 
 with an inflection that caused the group 
 about them to look at them derisively. 
 "He make you go away? You do 
 always as the white man say, you child- 
 ren. Let the old men deal with him." 
 
 Wahbotz uttered a cry of rage. 
 Wolfs Teeth drew himself up, and his 
 glowing eyes and working face sug- 
 gested his name. It usually took a 
 third person to rouse him thoroughly, 
 but he could be worked into fury, as 
 none knew better than Pow-watz. 
 
 " I teach him better!" he cried. 
 
 Then it was that Pow-watz, his pur- 
 pose accomplished, nodded at the other. 
 " Yes, you teach him," he said, in a fero- 
 cious tone. " Brave Wolf's Teeth. I 
 help you ; the Medicine Man help ; he 
 make the white man all weak. Then 
 you fight him." 
 
 But as the words fell into the circle
 
 24 
 
 there was a pause ; the Indians looked 
 at one another. 
 
 For, they were recalling a few episodes 
 in the life of this man since, several 
 years before, he had come among them ; 
 not his many benefits to them ; these 
 were at the moment as thoroughly for- 
 gotten as if the beneficiaries had been 
 white men. But Pow-watz' threat had 
 made them remember how two of them 
 had seen Sayre on the plain when he lay 
 down upon the ground and ordered 
 them to strike upon a stone upon his 
 chest. They had obeyed in fear and 
 trembling, desiring not to hurt him. 
 But they had told it as a marvel that 
 when they had actually broken the stone 
 there he had risen up and walked around 
 as well as ever. The tribe had decided 
 that the white man had "medicine" on 
 his chest. 
 
 And scores of them had seen another 
 thing that happened one day before the 
 well was finished. Something had gone
 
 25 
 
 wrong and Sayre was down in " the hole 
 in the ground " digging away with all 
 his might. Suddenly, a rope broke in 
 the tackle above, and the enormous 
 bucket heaped full of earth swung loose 
 and went crashing down into the well 
 with a thud that shook the ground. 
 
 Underneath it all was the white man ! 
 
 The Indians crowded about the open- 
 ing, some with sympathy, Queseo, Pow- 
 watz and a few others with secret exul- 
 tation that this light shining into the 
 darkest of their dark ways was stamped 
 out forever. But they all did what they 
 could to help the white men at work to 
 hoist up the bucket again. They bent 
 over to espy the jellied form of the man 
 whom they all recognized as their friend, 
 even if he had been too much their 
 master. 
 
 There stood Sayre as alert as ever, 
 and unhurt save for a scratch upon his 
 forehead and nose. As the Indians 
 stared at him in an amazement not un-
 
 26 
 
 mixed with awe, he climbed up the well 
 and walked off to the doctor's to have 
 his wound dressed. He had not found 
 it necessary to explain that an uneven- 
 ness in the side of the well into which he 
 had pressed himself had saved him from 
 everything but a graze from the bucket 
 as it passed him. 
 
 " He's all medicine but his forehead," 
 the Indians had decided. 
 
 It was this that they were remember- 
 ing now. 
 
 It was Accowvootz who at last sug- 
 gested that rifles could make strong 
 men weak all at once and save time. 
 
 This suggestion brought about an 
 animated discussion in which all Pow- 
 watz' skill was exerted to foment the 
 strife. 
 
 In the height of the tumult Queseo 
 made his decision. 
 
 " Come with me," he announced. 
 "We break through to the hole in the 
 ground ; we get the water, and drink it,
 
 2? 
 
 or" he paused and looked about him, 
 " or," he went on, " we teach the 
 white man a lesson he never forget, 
 never ! " And his nod was more signifi- 
 cant than his words. 
 
 A shout of assent went up from many 
 throats. 
 
 As the men were mounting, Cheko- 
 toco, a boy of fourteen, ran up to his 
 father. 
 
 "Let me go, too," he pleaded. "I 
 want to see you teach the white man." 
 
 The chief assented. 
 
 Sayre from the window of the trader's 
 store saw the approaching cavalcade. 
 
 He made no mistake as to its mean- 
 ing. The Indians had resented his 
 authority. They had taken issue with 
 him upon a point upon which he knew 
 he was right ; and so did they. He had 
 roused the evil element against himself. 
 He was upon trial for his life. 
 
 " It's come, Hutchins," he said to the 
 trader. " It was bound to come."
 
 28 
 
 And putting on his hat, he walked 
 with steady step down to the well. 
 
 He had barely stationed himself at 
 the gate of the enclosure when the head 
 of the procession rode toward him in a 
 fury that was intended to make the 
 white man recoil from his path, or else 
 to ride him down. 
 
 But Sayre still blocked the way. And 
 as he stood, not only was he immovable, 
 but his face and his whole figure hard- 
 ened as if he were in a coat of mail 
 made from his muscles of steel. 
 
 When there are two, it must be one 
 that gives way, be it ever so little. 
 Queseo checked the pace of his horse 
 somewhat, even as he shouted, 
 
 "Stand back! I want water. I go inside." 
 
 His horse's nose plunged against the 
 white man's shoulder. 
 
 Sharply, as from a blow, the creature 
 reared upon his haunches, and the hand 
 upon his bridle turned him across the 
 open gate.
 
 2 9 
 
 " You may go on ; but not your horses. 
 That is my law. You must obey it." 
 The tone of the one man unarmed rang 
 out in command of the twenty armed, 
 stern above his words. And the Indians 
 could not find that the man standing 
 there with his eyes looking through each 
 of them, taking note of every stalwart 
 figure and every gun well brandished, 
 knew how easily it all might be 
 ended, and how in an another instant 
 they might ride in triumphant and drink 
 of the water of victory. And with all 
 Pow-watz' hate, this was what he would 
 have liked, to cow the white man, even 
 more than to kill him. 
 
 " We shoot you ! " cried Queseo. 
 
 Instantly, a dozen rifles were aimed at 
 Say re. 
 
 Sayre placed a hand upon each gate- 
 post, and with unwavering eyes stood 
 there as full of silent threat as a loaded 
 cannon in the breach.
 
 II. 
 
 IT was in this moment of inde- 
 cision at the sight of decision 
 that the trader called out, 
 " Can I help you Sayre?" 
 he called back. "Get your 
 rifle and draw on one Indian, and at the 
 first shot you hear, kill your man." 
 Then he said to the Indians, from whom 
 he had never turned his eyes, "Shoot 
 me if you like. They will punish you ; 
 and see if they will send you a better 
 man. But at the first shot you fire, one 
 of you falls dead. See that man. You 
 know him. He hits every time. Try it 
 if you like. And there '11 be one dead 
 Indian." 
 
 There was a moment's pause, a fall- 
 ing back.
 
 Sayre, whom nothing escaped, not 
 only saw this, he also saw victory at his 
 very feet. 
 
 Darting down, he caught up the stout 
 stick with which he had driven back 
 Wolf's Teeth and Wahbotz. 
 
 In a flash it descended on Queseo. 
 
 "Off your horse, Queseo!" he cried 
 as his blow sent the Indian to the 
 ground. "Shame on you, the chief, to 
 set such an example. Behave better, or 
 you '11 get more than you want. Back, 
 Pow-watz ! Wahbotz ! All of you." 
 
 And with a fencer's art he plied the 
 simple weapon until more than one 
 Indian had retreated well out of reach. 
 
 They halted then ; but no one fired. 
 The rifle that never missed was behind. 
 
 With the weight of Sayre's cudgel 
 added to that of his courage, Queseo 
 sullenly remounted, wheeled slowly, and 
 rode off. 
 
 The others followed, sullen and mut- 
 tering.
 
 3 2 
 
 Sayre stood there like an embodied 
 avenger as they turned and watched 
 him. 
 
 When the last had disappeared, he 
 walked back to the store. 
 
 "Thank you, Hutchins," he said as 
 he hung up his hat again. " You 
 trumped that time." 
 
 "Will they try it again, do you 
 think ? " inquired Hutchins anxious for 
 his friend, for the comradeship of these 
 two men was strong. 
 
 Sayre laughed dryly. " They know as 
 well as I do that they 're wrong," he 
 answered. "And they're as good as 
 white men for knowing when they 're 
 beaten, better, I think. But the spirit 
 will probably show itself again in some 
 way. Our foot will have to be well on 
 the neck of that chief before the good 
 that's down here will have a show- 
 ing." 
 
 " You Ve about the right of it," 
 assented the other.
 
 33 
 
 After a pause Sayre went on gravely, 
 " Folks have a notion, Hutchins, that 
 the Lord 's all sentiment. But I tell you 
 there 's times when ' the Lord is a man 
 of war.'" 
 
 " He get it, too," muttered Wolf's 
 Teeth with a glance at the chief, and his 
 own back no longer stung. 
 
 " White man big chief," whispered 
 Chekotoco to him as they rode on be- 
 hind the others. 
 
 Wolf's Teeth nodded. 
 
 Several years had passed since the 
 little, dark man had won his victory at 
 the well. Other victories had followed. 
 He had gained the first by sheer force 
 of character, for as trader's clerk he had 
 had no authority to back him. 
 
 Now, however, he had been for three 
 years superintendent of the new school 
 started at that time upon the reservation. 
 At the same time Hutchins had been 
 made agent. These appointments had
 
 34 
 
 been founded upon fitness, and their 
 success was marked. 
 
 The process of carting the mountain 
 to Mahomet must always be slow, and 
 can never be complete. Still, the In- 
 dians were rising, they were getting to 
 the height of a somewhat wider view ; 
 for out of the dead level of barbarism a 
 few inspirations were lifting their heads. 
 
 Already, in the minds of some of the 
 Indians there had awakened that discon- 
 tent with their present which is the 
 surest evidence of affinity with the 
 Anglo-Saxon race. For the most de- 
 grading customs of the earlier days had 
 been set aside under the rule of Hutchins 
 and Sayre, gentle or stern as the case re- 
 quired, and throughout the whole tribe, 
 with a few choice exceptions, the power 
 of Queseo and Pow-watz was steadily 
 waning. It was with anguish that these 
 two and their select set had looked for- 
 ward to its extinction. But even this 
 was abating. They were so evenly gov-
 
 35 
 
 erned that, in spite of themselves, they 
 could not help being comfortable. 
 
 Wolf's Teeth especially had taken to 
 heart the lesson at the well. It was he 
 who one crisp December day stood 
 smiling before the superintendent. 
 
 " Napooaz come home," he said, after 
 his greeting. Wolf's Teeth prided him- 
 self upon his English. "You see him? 
 He George Washington now. He have 
 his hair cut like a white man ; he wear 
 clothes ; he look fine. You cut my hair, 
 too." 
 
 Sayre's heart bounded; for only in- 
 tense conviction would make an Indian 
 part with his scalp lock. He took upon 
 himself with alacrity the office of barber. 
 
 "Now I have clothes," said Wolf's 
 Teeth. " Can't be white man without 
 clothes." And he flipped his blanket 
 with a new disdain. 
 
 But Wolf's Teeth was a head taller 
 than Sayre, and the man of resources 
 hesitated.
 
 36 
 
 "You here to make Indian like white 
 man," continued the other, with keen 
 eyes upon him. 
 
 And then Sayre had it. There were 
 in store the suits that another tribe had 
 refused. 
 
 Wolf's Teeth in full citizen's dress, 
 even to a necktie, which he had asked 
 for, gave himself a long look of satisfac- 
 tion in Sayre's little mirror. Then he 
 faced about. 
 
 "Now, you give me work," he said. 
 " When clothes wear out, white man buy 
 more ; and white man always eat. I like 
 white man ; I work ; I get new clothes ; I 
 eat." 
 
 The little, dark man looked down sud- 
 denly. For, in spite of his smile, his 
 eyes had filled. He had worked so long 
 and so hard, and now that the results 
 had begun, things would go faster. 
 Ever since the day at the well Wolf's 
 Teeth had been a devoted friend, and 
 many a talk had they had as to the white
 
 37 
 
 man's way. Now Napooaz' appearance 
 had stirred his mind and crystallized his 
 floating ideas into set purpose. Other 
 converts would follow. And Sayre who 
 had labored so faithfully for this would 
 see the growth and help it on. 
 
 Already, the forces in him were rising 
 to meet the new occasion and use it to 
 the utmost, as he raised his head and 
 answered Wolf's Teeth. 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said, "I'll tell you 
 what you can do." 
 
 As Sayre was speaking these words, 
 two men were standing in the lobby of 
 the Senate at Washington. One of 
 them had just come out from the Cham- 
 ber to meet his companion here. 
 
 " You '11 have to think up two places, 
 Noseby," said the senator as they walked 
 slowly away together. " My word is 
 pledged. My honor is concerned. 
 Green really did a great deal for me, 
 and Barnes was perfectly indispensable.
 
 They 're superb henchmen, both of them, 
 something of the bygone loyalty about 
 them. I must reward them. Think, 
 now. And I won't forget you when your 
 name comes up. The crush for places 
 is so terrific that, with those I Ve already 
 hoisted in, there's not a chance out of 
 the Indian service ; lucky for us there 's 
 that. Long may it survive, the fittest 
 spoil of all." 
 
 " Yes," returned Inspector Noseby 
 slowly, " the reservations are pretty well 
 tucked out of the way, and nobody cares 
 what we do there, except the philan- 
 thropists ; they look sharp after us and 
 the Civil Service. The Civil Service ! " 
 Both men stopped to laugh. " But 
 then, senator," the inspector went on, 
 "we have to be mighty careful, you 
 know ; and that counts; you'll remember 
 that ? " 
 
 "And tuck it on to your salary, hey? 
 The honorable body shall be well posted 
 as to your valuable services, that is to
 
 39 
 
 say, on some of them. How's that, 
 Noseby ? Shall we give away the 
 whole ? " 
 
 "You'll use your customary discre- 
 tion, senator." And again the men 
 laughed. "There's one place," pursued 
 the speaker, " where they're getting on 
 rayther too fast. What do you say to an 
 agent and a superintendent ? " 
 
 " Good ! Go ahead, Noseby. But 
 look out you don't run counter to our 
 Civil Reform." 
 
 The other chuckled. " Why, senator, 
 they're bad men. That's the only 
 reason we have for turning 'em out. 
 That's Civil Reform ! They don't treat 
 poor Lo right." 
 
 " Yes, yes, that's it. There's no 
 need of further instructions to you, 
 Noseby." 
 
 " Not much," chuckled the other. 
 
 Senator Intrigue smiled and nodded, 
 and passed on, leaving Noseby still 
 chuckling.
 
 40 
 
 " We'll go out into the timber, Wolf's 
 Teeth," said Sayre ; " and you shall have a 
 lumber camp and cut wood like the white 
 men. But you can't stay there all alone. 
 You'll have to go down into the camp 
 and get some oi your relations to go 
 with you." 
 
 "My cousin Wahbotz go with me," 
 asserted the other. "And Arreep, my 
 uncle, he go, too." 
 
 "And there's a young man ready to 
 do something." And Sayre pointed to a 
 young fellow in citizen's dress coming 
 round the corner of the school building 
 on the piazza of which they were stand- 
 ing. 
 
 " Yes," returned Wolf's Teeth, "may 
 be Chekotoco go. But he like it better 
 round here." And as his eyes turned 
 from following the direction in which the 
 young man was looking, he smiled 
 shrewdly at the white man. 
 
 Sayre glanced there also, then turned 
 himself about, smiled and spoke.
 
 "Ah! You there, Wasu?" he said. 
 " Come out and speak to your father." 
 
 A sweet face, not without prettiness, 
 disappeared from the window, and in 
 another moment an Indian girl neatly 
 dressed was greeting Wolf's Teeth with 
 smiles deepening into dimples. She 
 was nineteen, and looked the prettier for 
 the glimpses of a modest coquetry that 
 one caught in the scarlet ribbon with 
 which she tied her braids and the excel- 
 lent fit of her woollen gown with its 
 band of white about her throat. Every 
 afternoon she went to school. She was 
 now upon her way to the recitation 
 room. She was fairly quick at her stud- 
 ies, and she liked the simple reading 
 that she could understand. In the 
 mornings she helped Mrs. Sayre about 
 the house, and was learning to be a good 
 cook. 
 
 And she had come to like her meat 
 well done. Sayre's heart swelled as he 
 looked at her and recalled that day when
 
 42 
 
 he had seen her on the field at the beef 
 issue. He did not wonder that Cheko- 
 toco, lately returned from a training 
 school to which he had gone through 
 Sayre's persuasions, looked with more 
 than approval at Wasu. And he did not 
 object to it. If things went on as he 
 hoped, his wife and he would give Wasu 
 a pretty wedding. And then he had 
 plans for the two young people which 
 would give them a fair chance in life, a 
 chance that they, fettered by the past 
 and unassured of the future, would never 
 win for themselves. 
 
 And then, there was Wolf's Teeth 
 whom Sayre stood watching go his way 
 to bring more to travel the white man's 
 road. 
 
 " Work ! " he said to himself, as the 
 Indian disappeared in the distance. 
 And more plainly than ever did he per- 
 ceive that work is the first of all inspira- 
 tions to good, is that path which God 
 has appointed out of Paradise up to
 
 43 
 
 Heaven, stony and steep, it is true, but 
 with healthful air and wholesome fruits. 
 
 As he watched these Indians' first 
 steps in this path, there came to him, 
 strange as it may seem, something of 
 the same interest with which a parent 
 watches the first steps of his child. He 
 stood there on the piazza a moment 
 alone, planning and smiling. His face 
 shone with delight. 
 
 He went in and told his wife. " It 
 will all come in time, Mary," he said. 
 " It takes only time and sticking to it." 
 
 His eyes were holden, and he had no 
 glimpse of the sword of Damocles sus- 
 pended over his head. 
 
 It was a week after this that Wolf's 
 Teeth made the centre of an animated 
 group, to whom he was telling his expe- 
 riences. 
 
 "Wahbotz and Arreep and I," he 
 said, "we go to work like the white 
 man. Mr. Sayre go with us to show us
 
 44 
 
 how. We go up into the woods to our 
 camp. I ask, ' We take our squaws ? ' 
 The white man shake his head. ' No, 
 no,' he say, ' that not the way the white 
 men do, they go up by themselves.' 
 So, we go on. By and by Wahbotz ask, 
 ' Who'll put up our lodge for us ? ' The 
 white man turn around to him. ' I put 
 up the lodge,' he say. ' You don't need 
 your squaws for that.' The white man 
 know everything. So, we go on. Then 
 we come to a place. White man say, 
 ' This is good ; we will stop here.' In- 
 dian look around him. White man is 
 right ; water near ; ground good, plenty 
 of wood, big trees to chop. Here we 
 make camp. And now the white man 
 put up lodge. White man do every- 
 thing." 
 
 Here a reminiscence stirred Wolfs 
 Teeth's soul with laughter and rippled 
 over the faces of his companions. 
 
 " White man try and try," he went on. 
 " He try again as he tell us ; and he not
 
 45 
 
 know how. He give it up, and laugh, 
 and say, ' Go back, Wolfs Teeth, and 
 get your squaw, and she will put up the 
 lodge for us, and she will cook for us.' 
 And so I go back. But white man not 
 lose his chance; he tell us we see how 
 useful our squaws are and how we 
 ought to be good to them." And Wolf's 
 Teeth's amusement was echoed by the 
 red men who are keen for a joke and 
 only stolidly grave to assert their dignity 
 to the white man. " The white man 
 laugh, too," he said. "And he show us 
 how to measure wood ; how to cut it. 
 He leave us there. We begin three 
 Indians, all like the white man. When 
 we end, we twenty. We all get our 
 pay ; the Indians that not work, they all 
 stand round then, and they wish that 
 money was going into their hands. We 
 like white man's ways ; we like his 
 money best of all." 
 
 And Wolt's Teeth went on to tell the 
 astonishing fact that he had bought a
 
 46 
 
 pair of mules on his promise to pay, his 
 simple word which Sayre had endorsed 
 and which the Indian afterward scrupu- 
 lously fulfilled, and that henceforth he 
 was going to work and be rich, like the 
 white man. 
 
 But Sayre rejoiced in his triumph, for 
 before the end of the week twenty Indi- 
 ans had joined their pioneers in the 
 lumber camp, and he had witnessed 
 their filing in clothed in citizen's dress 
 to be paid for their work, and he had 
 seen the stir that it made among the 
 other Indians, and their appreciation of 
 the results, if not of the work. Had 
 Sayre known of the amusement which 
 his mistake had caused Wolf's Teeth and 
 his companions, he would have laughed 
 with them. For, his dignity was as real 
 as gravitation, and as impossible to up- 
 set. 
 
 It was a beautiful evening in late 
 April. The Indian parents and friends
 
 47 
 
 had come to see the pupils of the school. 
 Wasu sat with Chekotoco at one of the 
 windows of the assembly room. They 
 had been talking earnestly for some time. 
 
 " My father is not like yours," said the 
 young man. " Wolf's Teeth is a real 
 white man. He's making money with 
 his mules ; he's a jolly teamster ; he 
 works hard. You'll be rich, Wasu. I 
 don't like that. Then, perhaps you 
 won't care about me." 
 
 Wasu gave him a sideways glance. 
 She had more serious doubts than she 
 liked to own as to the depth of her lov- 
 er's civilization. He was Queseo's son, 
 and Queseo went right because he had 
 to do it. If the white men did not know 
 this, the Indians did. 
 
 " My father not very rich yet," she 
 answered. '* You know how it was this 
 spring. But why don't you get rich, 
 too ? " she asked. 
 
 " How?" questioned Chekotoco with 
 an interest that was genuine.
 
 48 
 
 " O, I can't tell you," answered the 
 girl. "Ask Mr. Sayre; he tell you all 
 about it ; he know everything." 
 
 There was a moment's silence which 
 Wasu broke by a running comment upon 
 some of the visitors. " Humpback is 
 half white man," she said. " Look at 
 his hat and boots. But he hold on to 
 his blanket. His daughter, she go to 
 school, you know, and she try to make 
 them clean up when she go home ; 
 but" 
 
 But Chekotoco who had not answered 
 her at all, here broke out with, "If I do 
 get to be a rich man, Wasu, and have a 
 good house, will you come and live in it 
 with me ? " 
 
 " Hush ! " said the girl seeing that the 
 young man's tone had made others look 
 at them. 
 
 " Will you ? " he persisted with his 
 face still nearer hers ; perhaps to speak 
 more softly, as she desired. 
 
 The young girl answered him not a
 
 49 
 
 word, but her dark eyes looked into his, 
 until, as they dropped, his whole face 
 beamed with smiles. 
 
 11 I'll do it, Wasu," he said. I'll ask 
 Mr. Sayre to-morrow. Nobody'll work 
 harder than I shall. I'll hurry up, too. 
 You'll be ready when I am?" 
 
 " I'll learn to cook well first," returned 
 the girl, using the first excuse that of- 
 fered itself to her for maidenly delay. 
 
 " What for?" questioned the other. 
 
 She laughed. " Don't you like a 
 good dinner, Chekotoco, like what you 
 used to have at school ? " 
 
 " Yes. But I like you better." 
 
 She laughed again. "Wait awhile, 
 and perhaps you get both," she said 
 softly. 
 
 And if in the twilight dimness their 
 hands met, and when she went to the 
 door with him to say good night, their 
 lips, what would a white girl have done 
 differently? Mr. Sayre who saw many 
 things which he did not look at found in
 
 50 
 
 it nothing amiss and was quite ready for 
 the coming interview with one of the 
 brightest and most difficult young men 
 upon the reservation, Chekotoco. 
 
 For, the son of the chief inherited 
 some of his father's qualities, pride and 
 indolence among them, and his whole 
 character was wavering between the 
 good and the evil. To turn the scale to 
 the good Sayre trusted much to the aid 
 of the gentle girl whom the young man 
 was seeking as his wife. With her upon 
 his side, the white man felt himself 
 strong. 
 
 As he watched them now, he repeated 
 to himself, " Time and sticking to it." 
 And already, he saw wider results in the 
 future. He had plans for many Indians, 
 and these varied according to their abil- 
 ities. For Samoso whose white name 
 was Will Rawson, the boy who had gone 
 away to school when Chekotoco did and 
 had returned at the same time, the place 
 was here ; he would never be more than
 
 a farmer and would achieve success if he 
 attained to this. But for Chekotoco 
 there must be a different fate ; he had a ; 
 clear head and a fluent tongue and at his 
 best moments a worthy ambition. Once 
 away from the tribe in a home of his 
 own with Wasu's influence added to 
 Hutchins' and the superintendent's, this 
 wavering ambition might be steadied 
 and he might go out into the world and 
 earn a good living and make himself a 
 fair reputation, as well as becoming a 
 shining example of the use of educating 
 Indians. With Chekotoco it was not a 
 question of "could be," but of "would 
 be." Already Sayre had made mention 
 of him to his friends and the friends of 
 the cause who were ready to open a 
 place for him. For Sayre felt that with 
 his personal force and the influences 
 which he could command, he should be 
 successful. 
 
 There were others also, one boy an 
 artist born, Sayre was sure. He would
 
 5 2 
 
 need encouragement to push out among 
 people of a race whose doubt of his own 
 he had so often been made to feel ; but 
 with this he would do well. There 
 were girls, too, whose worth his wife 
 knew best about and whom she meant 
 to save from the terrible life before 
 them. 
 
 Hutchins had his favorites as well. 
 These three, with Mrs. Hutchins, and 
 the missionary and his wife, often talked 
 things over together. For upon this 
 reservation authority, knowledge and 
 gospel had united their strength in a 
 threefold effort, by which, as on a cable, 
 the wrecked lives of these young people, 
 and in some cases of the older ones, 
 were being run in from the breakers. 
 
 But that very evening while Sayre's 
 head was full of plans and his heart of 
 hope, there came on and on splashing 
 through the mud the feet of the horses 
 bringing the man in whose hand was the 
 word to cut two strong strands of this
 
 53 
 
 triple cord of safety to the ship- 
 wrecked. 
 
 In the churches all over the land 
 dimes and dollars are dropping into the 
 home mission boxes, and from every 
 pulpit prayers are offered up for the 
 blessing of the work among our heathen. 
 
 But the Indian reservations are well 
 out of sight, or they would not exist 
 for a day longer, civil service in In- 
 dian affairs, as in others, is our Sabbath 
 prayer which our weekday votes have 
 not vitalized. 
 
 And so, on splashed the horses' feet 
 along the muddy road until they came to 
 the end of the journey, and Sayre look- 
 ing up as he heard bustle at the door, 
 stood face to face with Inspector 
 Noseby.
 
 III. 
 
 kOME presences make them- 
 selves immediately felt in a 
 room. Inspector Noseby's 
 was one of these. The 
 effect was as if the wheels of a machine 
 running on time slackened a little. 
 
 The Indians looked at his open, jovial 
 face, fair and flushed, and read there the 
 license that gave to their laugh that 
 touch of lawlessness which it had not 
 needed for mirth; none knew better 
 than Sayre how to make them gay and 
 happy without the aftertaste of riot. 
 Now they looked at one another and ex- 
 changed smiles ; not all of them, how- 
 ever, for although Minnie, one of the 
 older girls, fingered her bow with a new 
 coquetry as he nodded to her, Ruth, the
 
 55 
 
 prettiest girl in the school, edged close 
 to Mrs. Sayre as he approached and 
 answered his affable inquiries not at all, 
 but stood with downcast eyes and nerv- 
 ous fingers running gathers in her 
 apron. The inspector with a keen 
 glance remarked that that girl wasn't 
 advanced with her English; and the 
 superintendent's wife did not undeceive 
 him, if he were deceived, but answered 
 the comment by opening another subject. 
 
 He seemed to get on admirably, how- 
 ever, with Miss Linckley, the new 
 teacher sent to the reservation a few 
 months before ; they had a good half 
 hour's chat together and he returned 
 the excellent points she gave him by 
 compliments not less welcome. 
 
 But of all the people whom he met 
 that evening he enjoyed Pow-watz the 
 best. The last thing that he said to 
 himself that night was his chuckle, " I 
 must have a talk on Indian affairs with 
 that Indian.
 
 56 
 
 It was early the next morning that 
 Noseby marched into the superintend- 
 ent's office with a great bundle of papers 
 under his arm. He had just been to 
 the agent's upon the same errand. 
 
 "A little more work for you, Sayre," 
 he began after a half contemptuous 
 greeting. " We're going to have things 
 mighty ship- shape in the Washington 
 office ; we Ve got to know more about 
 these out-of-the-way places ; have n't 
 had evidence enough lately of what's 
 going on." 
 
 ''What are you down here for, if not 
 to find out what 's going on ? " retorted 
 Sayre rising and facing the other. Size 
 and authority were both on one side, 
 but it needed not the little, dark man's 
 haughty indignation to prove which was 
 the more formidable in open fight. 
 "You want evidence, you say?" Sayre 
 went on as the eyes of the other wavered 
 before his gaze. " Look about you, 
 and find it. Hutchins and I'd be proud
 
 57 
 
 to have you. But how can I attend to 
 these papers this morning when my 
 boys are just going to begin a new piece 
 of work, and I Ve got to go with 'em 
 and start 'em ? " 
 
 " That 's the farmer's business," re- 
 torted Noseby. 
 
 " Not for my school boys," answered 
 the other with the suspicion of a smile 
 that Noseby gave him full credit for. 
 "And, besides, he's twenty miles away 
 attending to his other business, which is 
 enough for three men. Of course, I '11 
 do the things; I must; but I must 
 choose my time for it and get it in when 
 it won't interfere with what I 'm here for, 
 to teach the Indians civilization." 
 
 Then his eyes fell upon the group 
 seen from the window. For there stood 
 upon the piazza of the building a dozen 
 stalwart young Indians, Chekotoco 
 among them, talking and laughing as 
 they waited for their day's task to be set 
 them. And as he looked, that loving
 
 58 
 
 pride in his work which is always a 
 worker's highest incentive and his best 
 reward filled his heart, until the frown 
 left his face and pleasure glowed there 
 instead. 
 
 "Every one of these fellows is re- 
 claimed from the blanket," he went on, 
 his need of sympathy making him for 
 the moment forget his dislike of his 
 listener. " I tell my wife it needs just 
 time and sticking to it. But, Nose- 
 by, 'twill take a sight more of the results 
 of civilization than we Ve got down here 
 to make the Indians convinced it's a 
 good thing. They're a pretty shrewd 
 set of fellows. That newspaper story 
 that's been going the rounds sizes 'em 
 well. One of these Indian fellows, I 
 forget from where, was being taken the 
 rounds of Washington, and somebody 
 asked him if they would build him a 
 house, if he would live in it? He 
 waved his hand at one of the finest, and 
 answered, " If you build me one like
 
 59 
 
 that, I will ! ' Ambition 's buried pretty 
 deep, but give the young ones a little of 
 of the sunshine of civilization, and 'twill 
 spring up, there 's no doubt of it." 
 
 It was here that Noseby vowed his 
 deepest that they should never have any 
 of this sunshine. 
 
 As Sayre turned back from the win- 
 dow, Nosby was pointing to the pile of 
 papers, Government work for him. 
 "These are to be done immediately," 
 was the inspector's only answer to 
 Sayre's enthusiasm. 
 
 "Are those the orders?" 
 
 " Yes, they're your orders, sir. And 
 I'm here to see that you obey them." 
 
 Sayre's eyes flashed. "That's not 
 necessary," he answered. " I'll tell 
 the boys." He went out, and after a 
 word with the leader, returned to his 
 office. 
 
 Noseby stood silent while the other 
 opened his budget, supplied himself 
 with paper, and after glancing over the
 
 6o 
 
 first list of questions, took up his pen 
 and began to write. 
 
 " I s'pose the poor Lo's weren't sorry 
 for a holiday," the inspector broke out 
 with a laugh as he watched the Indian 
 boys walking off into the distance. 
 
 " What holiday ? " questioned Sayre 
 turning upon him sharply. " If you 
 mean my boys, they've gone to work by 
 themselves, to do the best they can ; 
 and they will do it. That's better than 
 lounging, by a long chalk. We don't 
 have a great deal of that round here, 
 Mr. Noseby." 
 
 "Um ! " was that gentleman's sole re- 
 sponse. 
 
 Sayre wrote on without lifting his 
 head, until at the inspector's demand he 
 gave orders for a wagon and a driver to 
 take him to the camps. 
 
 After Noseby had gone out Mrs. 
 Sayre came into the office. 
 
 " Mr. Hutchins is as hard at it as 
 you," she said. " Wasu 's been up
 
 6i 
 
 there on errand for me, and she told 
 me." 
 
 Her husband looked up contemptu- 
 ously. " All to get us out of the way, 
 to let him carry on his investigations," 
 he answered. " They might have trusted 
 us. But let him investigate to his 
 heart's content. Hutchins and I will 
 only be the better off the more of it he 
 does." 
 
 " He's talking with Wolfs Teeth now," 
 announced Mrs. Sayre, standing at the 
 window. 
 
 " Oh, is he ? Well, Mary, he couldn't 
 get hold of a better man for us, could 
 he? " And the superintendent laughed. 
 
 And perhaps it was for this very 
 reason, because the inspector had begun 
 his investigations with Wolfs Teeth, 
 that Mrs. Sayre went back to her work 
 with a smile upon her face and her hus- 
 band returned to his writing with a soft- 
 ened remembrance of the irritation that 
 the visitor's presence had aroused.
 
 62 
 
 Meanwhile, Noseby was interviewing 
 Wolfs Teeth with so much interest that 
 the horses ordered for his excursion 
 stood stamping at the door for a good 
 half hour while the inspector lolled on 
 the grass in the shadow of the store- 
 house a dozen rods away and listened to 
 the Indian, with a question thrown in 
 now and then for which he took from 
 his lips the cigar at which he was puffing 
 vigorously. It was an excellent one 
 and very fragrant in the nostrils of 
 Wolf's Teeth whom Sayre had at last 
 succeeded in convincing that cigarettes 
 were " no good" for the health and very 
 bad for the pocket. 
 
 Noseby narrowed his eyes as he 
 listened to the Indian's story, and at last 
 took out his notebook and jotted down a 
 a few comments. " I'll tell the great 
 father at Washington what you say 
 about him," he explained in answer to 
 the Indian's glance of suspicion. 
 
 Wolf's Teeth was well satisfied to have
 
 63 
 
 his account of the little dark man go 
 forth to the authorities ; for they could 
 reward him as he ought to be rewarded. 
 He nodded, grunted, and went on. 
 
 " He like my own brother to me," he 
 said ; " he mean white man and red man 
 all the same. I be dead man if not for 
 him." 
 
 "Tell me all about it," urged Noseby 
 poising his cigar between his fingers 
 and replacing it. " But have a cigar, 
 won't you ? " he added ; and taking out 
 his case, held it to his companion. " Try 
 one," he repeated. 
 
 The Indian hesitated. " Mr. Sayre tell 
 me not to smoke," he returned. And 
 he gave his reasons. 
 
 The other laughed. " But cigarettes 
 are different," he said. " And they're 
 not so bad, after all. Lots of white 
 people smoke 'em. I do myself some- 
 times." 
 
 "So?" returned the Indian in a tone 
 of surprise and satisfaction.
 
 64 
 
 Noseby laughed again. 
 
 "And then, this won't make you 
 poorer, because I pay for it," he went 
 on. " You'll be so much in. Under- 
 stand me?" 
 
 And the fair, flushed, smiling face of 
 the representative of civilization and the 
 dark, questioning face of the representa- 
 tive of barbarism outreaching toward 
 civilization looked into each other. The 
 inspector was a younger man than the 
 Indian, he could not have been forty, 
 but the knowledge of men and affairs 
 which shone out from his eyes into those 
 of his questioner was an ignis fatuus 
 which lighted up the way of temptation 
 as if it were the very short cut into the 
 white man's road. 
 
 The Indian, still hesitating, gazed, 
 smiled, laughed, stretched out his hand. 
 
 His fingers closed over the coveted 
 weed. 
 
 Noseby smiling with a dark exulta- 
 tion, furnished him with a light. The
 
 65 
 
 Indian took a few puffs at the cigar 
 with intense enjoyment. 
 
 And then the result of months of 
 labor had gone up in a whiff of smoke. 
 
 " Ya," he resumed, " Mr. Sayre treat 
 me like his own brother. I have mules ; 
 I do carting ; I get money. Last winter 
 the roads too bad, no teams go then. 
 Mr. Sayre say, ' I give you work like 
 white man, Wolf's Teeth. You saw 
 wood, you split it, you make great pile 
 right where I tell you ; I pay you ; that 
 give you money.' So, I work. I made 
 like white man ; I like money." 
 
 " But one day such a pain. A nail 
 run up into this foot. I go home. I 
 go to bed. Pow-watz, our medicine 
 man, he come ; he enchant the place. 
 Then Mr. Sayre he find out. He say 
 enchantment not enough. Mr. Sayre 
 know everything. So, the doctor put 
 on something good ; pull the pain right 
 out." 
 
 " Then Pow-watz come back. He
 
 66 
 
 say to me, ' Bad Indian ! It not white 
 doctor, it my enchantment pull out the 
 pain. Take off that stuff.' And he 
 take off the stuff. It hurt more. 
 But Pow-watz say that because I dis- 
 obey him, that make it hurt. Next day 
 the doctor come. He so mad. He put 
 on new stuff, and he order me, ' Let it 
 alone.' And he give me medicine. 
 He say, ' Now you sleep, you feel better. 
 Mind me.' I feel better ; I sleep ; I 
 mind him." 
 
 Here Wolf's Teeth closed his eyes 
 with an air of satisfaction as if recalling 
 his interval of rest. Then looking at 
 Noseby, he went on with his story. 
 
 "Then Pow-watz, he come," he said, 
 "and heap Indians with him. He say, 
 '/ make you sleep ; that medicine not do 
 it ; that no good ! ' And Wasu come to 
 see me, she my little daughter lives 
 with Mrs. Sayre and goes to school ; she 
 try to keep the medicine. Pow-watz 
 and the other Indians, they get it from
 
 her ; they frighten her ; they throw it 
 away. They take the stuff off my foot 
 again and they make their magic to 
 make me well. Then they go away and 
 say I get well." 
 
 " But my eyes open all the way, and 
 my foot so bad, it all purple up to here." 
 And he touched his leg above the knee. 
 " The doctor so angry he never come 
 any more. He say, 'What use?' Pow- 
 watz say I not trust to him, that's the 
 reason I get worse. The doctor say I 
 die 'cause I 'm a fool. And that so." 
 And Wolf's Teeth laughed softly. 
 "AndWasu she cry and cry," he went 
 on, "and her mother can't comfort her. 
 She run home to Mrs. Sayre. And Mr. 
 Sayre he come with a big wagon, and he 
 get two Indians to lift me in, and he 
 drive me up to his own house, and he 
 put me on the bed in his good room, 
 and he say, 'You stay there, Wolf's 
 Teeth, till you get well.' " 
 
 "And the doctor never come, and Mr.
 
 68 
 
 Sayre he wouldn't let Pow-watz come 
 in, not a single Indian come in, and 
 every day he wash my foot himself and 
 put on something. And so, here's the 
 dead man," finished Wolf 's Teeth with 
 the laugh of health. "And Mr. Sayre, 
 he a brother ; he take up sick Indians 
 by the roadside. That's the kind of 
 white man Indians like." 
 
 "Yes," answered the inspector throw- 
 ing away his cigar stump and rising. 
 " Some Indians, not Pow-watz," he 
 added between his teeth. He thrust 
 back his notebook into his pocket. He 
 had obtained many other data also from 
 Wolfs Teeth, sketches of Sayre from his 
 first coming and the full history of the 
 encounter at the well. " I must be 
 going," he said. " You 're good com- 
 pany, Wolf's Teeth. Come and see me 
 again. And you 'd better take two or 
 three more cigars; they're fine ones." 
 
 " Yes, they fine ones," returned the 
 Indian pocketing them with alacrity.
 
 69 
 
 At last the horses were off for the 
 camps. But first Noseby had strolled 
 into the office, and found the superin- 
 tendent as busy as could be desired and 
 looking somewhat harassed at the un- 
 precedented demand for statistics. 
 
 "Amusing creature, that Wolf's 
 Teeth," remarked the inspector. 
 
 "Yes," returned the other without 
 looking up. 
 
 " Swears by you, you know," con- 
 tinued the inspector. " Say, now, 
 Sayre, that's a pretty good put-up job, 
 that brotherly devotion dodge. Had 
 the fellow around here handy to be 
 interviewed, hey? Well, I've done it; 
 so, be satisfied, 'n' try a little less senti- 
 ment next time." 
 
 Sayre sprang to his feet. His hands 
 clenched themselves so that the muscles 
 stood out like cords ; the great vein in 
 his forehead throbbed as if it would 
 burst. Noseby eyed him uneasily, and 
 drew back a step. It was the last time
 
 7Q 
 
 that he jeered openly at him ; whatever 
 his purpose, during the remainder of his 
 stay he kept his sarcasm to himself or 
 vented it upon another object than this 
 man with the stature of a pigmy and 
 pluck enough for a general. 
 
 " O, you don't take to chaff, Sayre," 
 he volunteered hastily. "Twas a fine 
 thing to do, of course." 
 
 " I don't want praise," retorted the 
 other, " and you 're welcome to blame 
 whatever you see amiss. But don't let 
 me hear any more about ' put-up jobs.' 
 We don't have 'em round here." 
 
 Noseby's laugh as he went out lacked 
 a little of its usual fluency ; but to atone 
 for this, the fire in his eyes was more 
 than usually smouldering and danger- 
 ous, and until he drew up at the Indian 
 camps he in no way resembled the jovial 
 fellow whose expansive good humor had 
 overflowed upon all, with one exception, 
 ever since his arrival. At sight of these 
 camps, however, his spirits revived, and
 
 if there was an added sparkle in his 
 eyes as he sprang down from the wagon, 
 it came from the triumph of finding here 
 what he wanted. 
 
 Here was a nest of tents, and their 
 owners were all abroad in the sunny 
 weather. The women and girls looked 
 shyly at the stranger, not daring to lift 
 their downcast heads. 
 
 And yet he was not out of hearing 
 before in their own tongue they were 
 commenting upon every peculiarity of 
 face and dress and manner. They con- 
 trasted his fairness with the color of the 
 little, dark man, and decided that this 
 stranger was more of a white man than 
 the other. 
 
 But Noseby had little thought for 
 their comments as he saw before him 
 somewhat apart a group of men whom 
 he had wanted to meet. Queseo and 
 Pow-watz left these to greet him. They 
 were about to hold a council, they said. 
 Would the white messenger of the great
 
 72 
 
 father at Washington join them? They 
 were trying to see what was best for 
 their people. Surely, he in his wisdom 
 would know. And as one and another 
 strolled up, Pow-watz introduced his 
 friends. 
 
 Noseby with beaming gravity shook 
 hands all around and took his place 
 between Queseo and Pow-watz as if it 
 were the one thing in the world that he 
 enjoyed most. Possibly, under the cir- 
 cumstances it was. For he realized 
 how much this council was due to the 
 few words that had passed between him- 
 self and the medicine man the evening 
 before.
 
 IV. 
 
 L OW-WATZ turned to him 
 with a satisfaction that 
 shone through all his dig- 
 nity. 
 
 On the way home from the school 
 the previous evening he had turned 
 to Queseo as they drove on. 
 
 " White man just come from the 
 father at Washington quite different 
 from the little chief with the big heart, 
 Queseo," he had begun. And Queseo 
 upon whom Noseby had also beamed, 
 had assented warmly. " He talks well, 
 he's a great man," Pow-watz had re- 
 sumed. "It's not his way to tell us 
 what we have to do, like the other one. 
 He asks us how we do; if we are well;
 
 74 
 
 if we are happy. I tell him the Great 
 Spirit gives us all some sorrow. Then 
 he says he 's come to make us happy ; 
 he 's glad to see us so well. I say the 
 little white chief with the big heart 
 make us all well ; he 's medicine man 
 and everything ; he knows everything ; 
 he does everything ; he orders us all, we 
 all mind what he says. I say this to 
 him, Queseo, because I think all white 
 men the same, he'll like it." 
 
 "That's so," responded the chief with 
 assurance. 
 
 But Pow-watz shook his head and his 
 voice took on a new impressiveness. 
 " I said that to him," he resumed, "and 
 he came close up to me, Queseo, and 
 he looked at me one minute in my eyes, 
 and he never spoke one word ; his eyes, 
 they talk. He going to speak. Then 
 he turn his head. The little chief 
 with the big heart just behind him, not 
 looking yet. Then the white man said 
 to me, 'Tell me all about it, Pow-watz.
 
 75 
 
 The father at Washington must know 
 everything.' Then he looked over his 
 shoulder another time. The little chief 
 almost there. Then he said quick down 
 in his throat, ' It 's time you speak, you 
 and the others.' Queseo, when I hear 
 that, I 'm medicine man once more as in 
 the old time ! ' " 
 
 " Good news, Pow-watz, fine news," 
 cried his listener. 
 
 " Then," Pow-watz went on, " the lit- 
 tle chief came up, and the white man 
 was laughing at me. " You learn Eng- 
 lish better, Pow-watz, he was saying to 
 me ; I can't understand you.' And he 
 kept on looking at me, and he smiled 
 and smiled, and the little white chief 
 was seeing us smile, he sees every- 
 thing, he looked straight through me, 
 I think he would drag out the words the 
 white man said. But when he turned 
 to the white man, he's not looking ; he's 
 gone off, he laughs with somebody else. 
 I learn that way, too, Queseo. That's
 
 76 
 
 the white man's way. And I'll be better 
 Indian medicine man." 
 
 Surely, Pow-watz was in no danger 
 of improving his English, if he habitu- 
 ally talked in the fluent Indian he was 
 using now. 
 
 " I don't know what it means," Que- 
 seo had returned. 
 
 And Pow-watz with the voice of an 
 oracle had declared that it meant that 
 white men were like Indians and did 
 not all think alike, and, further, that it 
 meant that the big white man didn't like 
 the little white chief. " Then, what 
 does it matter if he have big heart ? " he 
 pursued. " The white man have big- 
 ger. He ask us to tell him everything, 
 Oueseo. We tell him." 
 
 And Pow-watz' chuckle had singularly 
 resembled the one with which Noseby 
 himself had gone to sleep that night. 
 
 So, it had come about that the coun- 
 cil was ready for the inspector when he 
 arrived, and would have been ready had
 
 77 
 
 he come at any day or hour, it being 
 perfectly able to hold over until such 
 time as it was needed. 
 
 But Pow-watz had not been medicine 
 man and Queseo chief, any more than 
 Noseby had been politician, all these 
 years for nothing ; the tactics were iden- 
 tical. There was not a good Indian 
 upon the reservation who did not hold 
 the agent and the little chief with the 
 big heart in honor, and there were some 
 honest Indians in this council ; it not 
 only would have been impossible for 
 Pow-watz to keep them out without 
 creating suspicion, but, being unques- 
 tionably the respectable part of the com- 
 munity, they gave the council a flavor 
 of respectability which was not lost 
 upon Pow-watz any more than if he had 
 been white. And if these Indians be- 
 lieved in the white man, did they not 
 also believe in himself and in Queseo ? 
 
 They should continue to do so. 
 
 The council opened by a florid speech
 
 7* 
 
 from Queseo reported to Noseby through 
 the interpreter. The chief's English was 
 good enough to be intelligible, but he 
 would by no means have allowed him- 
 self such diminution of his dignity as to 
 utter an English word when the great 
 father was paying somebody to utter it 
 for him. 
 
 The white man responded by assur- 
 ances of his regard, his power and his 
 desire to make the Indians as happy as 
 possible, and in especial, his readiness 
 to listen attentively to all that related to 
 them and their affairs. He was here to 
 find out how matters were going on be- 
 tween them and the white men, he had 
 come to hear and to judge ; he had the 
 power to decide and the will to make 
 them happy ; all things seemed so good, 
 he hoped that under it they had no 
 cause for complaint ; but if so, let them 
 tell him fully everything." 
 
 " Ya, it all good. The little chief 
 with the big heart, he make us work,"
 
 79 
 
 laughed Wahbotz giving an account of 
 their wood cutting. That's good for us ; 
 we get money ; so we quite white men 
 now." 
 
 Noseby nodded. 
 
 Story after story came to him illus- 
 trating the labors of these civilizers of 
 the Indian. He found that there had 
 been no lack of needed sternness, but 
 not one instance of severity, and many 
 instances of a care that bordered upon 
 tenderness which he was utterly 
 unable to comprehend and looked upon 
 as the veriest balderdash. But it was 
 plain that the men had done wonders 
 considering the adverse conditions that 
 reign upon all Indian reservations. 
 
 He was no politician, however, if he 
 could not make one fact serve his pur- 
 pose as well as another. 
 
 " No more dances," explained Accow- 
 vootz. " The white man say dances 
 bad, they break us all up." 
 
 Noseby's eyes began to dance. He
 
 8o 
 
 looked his man up and down with gath- 
 ering merriment, then he took his cigar 
 from his mouth and laughed aloud. 
 
 The Indians who had all been sup- 
 plied from a box of cigars which the in- 
 spector had brought with him, not equal 
 to those offered Wolf's Teeth which had 
 been bought for his own use, but still, 
 fair, as his experienced taste was assur- 
 ing him at the moment, looked with 
 astonishment at the white man who 
 laughed and laughed, and slapped his 
 knee and laughed again in the teeth of 
 a command of their little chief with the 
 big heart. But if the taste of his smoke 
 was so good, why should not the taste of 
 his mirth be also ? Half wonderingly at 
 first, and then with relish they joined in 
 the laugh, and awaited what was to 
 follow. 
 
 " Did you ever ask your little white 
 chief, as you call him, if he didn't dance 
 himself? " asked Noseby as soon as he 
 found his voice. " Dancing's no harm,"
 
 8i 
 
 he pursued. " Lots of white people do 
 it, good people. Why, I do it myself. 
 And, now I think of it, I've never seen a 
 first-class Indian dance. Can't you get 
 me up one? And I'll write out a de- 
 scription of it for the Smithsonian, or the 
 newspapers," he interjected, though not 
 aloud, " and turn an honest penny on it. 
 Can't you now, my friends?" he re- 
 peated. 
 
 Every face lighted with sudden pleas- 
 ure, and then as suddenly clouded. 
 
 " The little white chief and Mr. 
 Hutchins, they say 'no'," returned Ac- 
 cowvootz. 
 
 Noseby's side glances showed him 
 Pow-watz and Queseo waiting with in- 
 tentness for his answer. An air of con- 
 fidence in them struck him in contrast 
 to the doubt of the others what it was 
 possible for him to do in the face of this 
 prohibition. His acumen, then, had not 
 deceived him ; it seldom did. He was 
 not playing a losing game.
 
 82 
 
 He uttered a contemptuous laugh. 
 
 "Nobody '11 say 'no' when I say 
 ' yes,' " he returned. 
 
 " That's so," cried one and another. 
 
 The two Indian leaders exchanged 
 glances. 
 
 " Yes, that's so," echoed the inspector 
 taking his cigar from his mouth to em- 
 phasize his statement. " Now, how 
 soon can you have it ? And, mind, I 
 want a good, rousing one, none of your 
 make-believes." 
 
 "We have it in three days," responded 
 Pow-watz. 
 
 And, so, a practice which meant a return 
 to the barbarous customs against which 
 the agent and the superintendent had 
 been fighting for years was reestablished. 
 For, as well tempt a drunkard trying to 
 reform with a glass of whiskey as a 
 reservation Indian who has set his foot 
 upon the white man's road with an Indian 
 dance. It brings back old tastes, old 
 delights with redoubled strength.
 
 But what would this weigh against 
 Noseby's curiosity, or his self-interest? 
 Indeed, it was only another means of 
 accomplishing his deeper purpose in 
 which so many politicians were working 
 with him, to do things by halves and so 
 keep them along to offer convenient 
 occupation for many a political hench- 
 man hard to dispose of otherwise, and 
 sometimes ill-fitted for more conspicu- 
 ous posts. 
 
 As they were discussing this dance, 
 the inspector took occasion to remark in 
 connection with it that Mr. Sayre 
 needn't try to do more than his own 
 work, he had plenty of that. 
 
 Pow-watz' wrinkles showed deeper 
 and whiter than ever. 
 
 " He do medicine man's work; he do 
 all the work," he answered with deep 
 inflection. 
 
 And Noseby learned the other side of 
 Wolf's Teeth's story. 
 
 He nodded sagaciously at the recital.
 
 84 
 
 "That's not the way to do," he asserted 
 to Pow-watz. He added that he could 
 not say more now ; but he assured the 
 Indians that in future their feelings 
 should be considered. Unquestionably, 
 the reservations belonged to them. 
 They had rights, yes, indeed! He 
 would look after these and do his best 
 to make them happy. They must be 
 discreet, but they might trust him. 
 
 So, the progressive Indians who were 
 not yet progressive enough to withstand 
 the dance when invited to it by the 
 white man in authority and yet who 
 believed in Sayre and Hutchins with all 
 their hearts, and the Indian Indians who 
 wanted nothing but the re-establishment 
 of their old rule of barbarism and who 
 saw here the promise and the potency 
 of this, alike nodded their satisfaction. 
 
 The former, however, comprehended 
 nothing of the inspector's meaning 
 further than a taste of their, old amuse- 
 ment. But the latter rose up from the
 
 85 
 
 conference with so assured a stride and 
 eyes so full of malicious delight that 
 they must already have tasted of their 
 victory. 
 
 It was that very evening that Wolf's 
 Teeth with Indian facility for gathering 
 and distributing news learned of this 
 council and commented upon it to the 
 superintendent. 
 
 " Queseo and Pow-watz, they grown 
 whole foot taller," he announced. 
 "They going to have a war dance next 
 week. The new white man, he order it. 
 It must be they got some white man's 
 scalp, somehow," he mused. 
 
 A chill ran through Sayre. He felt a 
 hidden significance in the words. Was 
 there to be really a white man's scalp, 
 and that scalp his own, in the dance 
 which the white man had instigated? 
 Were all these investigations going on 
 from hour to hour about things trivial to 
 puerility, all these questions that seemed
 
 86 
 
 asked to perplex rather than to arrive at 
 facts, all these demands for increased 
 work of a nature that diverted from 
 what he considered the real work, all 
 these confabs with different Indians, 
 chiefly with the disaffected ones, tend- 
 ing to one end ? 
 
 The agent looked in that evening. 
 Sayre put the question to him. 
 " Hutchins," he said, "what do you 
 think ? Are they after our scalps ? Is 
 the political tomahawk heaved up for 
 our benefit ? " 
 
 " Looks mighty like it in some ways," 
 returned the other. " The fellow's set- 
 ting everything topsy turvy and undo- 
 ing our best work. I shouldn't have 
 said 'twas possible to get through so 
 much mischief in twenty four hours. 
 I'd like to know what it means." 
 
 There fell a silence between the two 
 which Sayre broke by saying, " I've 
 never had any difficulty in earning my 
 living, and it would go hard with me if
 
 8? 
 
 I couldn't get a better one somewhere 
 else. And, then, my children will have 
 to be sent away to school soon, and it's 
 a dog's life as to work. And yet, 
 Hutchins, there's more than that in it. 
 This work gets a hold on one. I s'pose 
 in one way it's the best work that's 
 given to a man to try to level up his 
 fellows. But whatever the reason is, 
 'twould be an awful tug to pull out of 
 it. But if somebody came who 'd do it 
 better, or as well, I'd be willing. But it 
 doesn't look that way." 
 
 Hutchins uttered something that was 
 meant for a laugh and turned out nearer 
 a groan. 
 
 " Politically, Sayre, these Indians are 
 carrion to vultures," he answered. 
 
 " And then, what would our good fel- 
 lows do if Queseo and Pow-watz should 
 be allowed to get on the top and 
 crow ? " asked Sayre. 
 
 " Looks as if that was what they're 
 going to do now," said the other.
 
 88 
 
 " Never ! Wait till that fellow clears 
 out, and as long 's my head's on my 
 shoulders, up to the very last minute, 
 my foot 's on neck of Indian tyranny." 
 
 The little, dark man had sprung up 
 in his earnestness, and one who did not 
 know him looking into his set face and 
 flashing eyes, would yet have been sure 
 of his ability to make his word good. 
 Suddenly, he turned to his friend with a 
 smile of rare sweetness. 
 
 " You won't think I'm intending to 
 usurp your functions, Hutchins?" 
 
 The agent laughed. " That's the last 
 thing we shall quarrel over, Sayre, as 
 long's the work's done," he answered. 
 " At any rate," he added after a pause, 
 " Noseby can't complain of our idle- 
 ness." 
 
 And then these two men who were 
 not deeply engrossed by their personal 
 affairs passed on to the discussion of 
 the details of their work, and, especially, 
 of how they should cope with the spirit
 
 of disorder following in the wake of the 
 inspector. 
 
 The inspector had finished his tour of 
 investigation which ended soon after his 
 visit to this reservation, when one morn- 
 ing he presented himself at the door of 
 Senator Intrigue's fine residence in 
 Washington. 
 
 " The senator's too busy to see any- 
 body," announced his secretary. " He's 
 preparing his great speech on ' Political 
 Reform.' " 
 
 A broad smile overspread Noseby's 
 countenance. " Ah ! indeed," he said. 
 "That's good. But you'll do me the 
 kindness to take him this at once." 
 And he handed his card. 
 
 "He gave strict orders that he would 
 see no one," responded the other posi- 
 tively. 
 
 " Young man, you'll take that card to 
 him at once," returned the visitor with a 
 threatening air. " And be quick ; it's
 
 9 o 
 
 business of importance. It's his busi- 
 ness, not the state's, blockhead." 
 
 " O, I see, sir. Excuse me." 
 
 And the secretary disappeared, to re- 
 turn again almost immediately. "Walk 
 this way if you please, sir," he said def- 
 erentially. 
 
 And he guided the inspector through 
 the fine hall, up the stairs where they 
 trod on velvet and past beautiful and 
 costly pictures and carved furniture that 
 the veriest boor would have found mag- 
 nificent. The man as he went on had 
 time to vow that the day should come 
 when trappings like these should be his 
 own also, and that petty obstacles, like 
 honor and conscience, should not stand 
 in the way. The very sight of the lux- 
 ury made him tingle and gave new stim- 
 ulus to his greed which had not needed 
 this. 
 
 Then he was ushered into the pres- 
 ence of the senator who was in the 
 midst of his sentence declaring that the
 
 interests of the country which contained 
 sixty four million souls clad in flesh 
 should be paramount to every party 
 purpose of the other side. 
 
 "Ah, well, Noseby, here you are. 
 Glad to see you. Sit down." 
 
 And Intrigue without rising laid down 
 his pen and waited for the secretary to 
 withdraw, which he did immediately and 
 noiselessly. 
 
 And then the senator and the in- 
 spector sat a few moments looking 
 steadily at each other in silence. 
 
 "Well, how have you sped?" asked 
 the former finally. 
 
 Noseby's fair face glowed darkly with 
 triumphant malice. 
 
 " Would you like to hear a few extracts 
 from my report before it's given in ? " he 
 demanded. 
 
 The other nodded. The two men 
 smiled at each other a moment, and 
 Noseby drew forth his note book.
 
 V. 
 
 TAKE nothing at second 
 hand which I can possibly 
 investigate for myself," be- 
 gan the inspector reading 
 carefully from his papers, "and so I can 
 claim for my report that it is absolutely 
 
 reliable. In the case of the 
 
 reservation I found reason to suspect 
 that matters were not quite as we could 
 wish,' how's that senator?" And he 
 nodded with a smile at Intrigue who 
 nodded back smilingly. 
 
 "The Gospel truth, Noseby." 
 
 "And so I took especial pains there," 
 
 pursued the inspector. " I went down 
 
 into the camps and talked with the 
 
 Indians. Poor fellows, they have griev-
 
 93 
 
 ances enough. It 's unpardonable there 
 should be such utter disregard of their 
 feelings and prejudices as I found there. 
 What hope of civilizing them have we un- 
 til we can get their good will ? And how 
 can we get it by such means as I found 
 common there ? We must move slowly 
 in order to avoid the danger of a retro- 
 grade, always so harmful. But I found 
 the most harmless dance forbidden ; and 
 as for cigarettes, the poor fellows had 
 been told that these were the machina- 
 tions of the devil who devised them to 
 empty their pockets and is now lying in 
 wait to destroy the poor wretches, body 
 and soul, with these innocent weapons." 
 Noseby interrupted his reading to look 
 up and say with a face weathed in scorn, 
 "As if even that stupid fellow, the Evil 
 One, would want a dead Indian any 
 more than we do a living? For my 
 part, he might have 'em all today, but 
 for the convenience of the present 
 arrangement."
 
 94 
 
 " De cidedly ! " echoed the senator. 
 " But go on. That 's a fine prologue." 
 
 " There 's a repression and violence 
 exercised over the whole reservation, or 
 I should say over all the Indians who 're 
 not devoted and slavish followers of the 
 agent and the superintendent." 
 
 " ' Slavish followers ' ! " echoed In- 
 trigue. " I didn 't know slavishness was 
 the Indian cut." 
 
 " Doesn't it sound well and strengthen 
 the idea of coercion ? " queried Noseby. 
 
 "To be sure." 
 
 "Then, why do you object to it?" 
 
 " My good fellow, I was only asking 
 for my own information." 
 
 "For your information, then, it's 
 simply the old struggle for power. 
 Being only Indians, they're just as fond 
 of their own way as if they were 
 senators." 
 
 "I see. 'Slavish' following, then, let 
 it be." 
 
 " As a sample of the way things have
 
 95 
 
 been done," pursued Noseby, " that 
 man, Sayre, has been known to get out 
 of his bed and go down into the camps 
 in the middle of the night and break up 
 a party of his Indians gambling with the 
 Indians of a neighboring tribe. If a 
 sharp lecture wouldn't scatter them, he'd 
 try a whip. 
 
 The senator laughed. " Spunky fel- 
 low," isn't he ?" 
 
 " But," returned the other gravely, 
 "there's a special reason why such 
 ' spunk ' must be put a stop to. It 
 doesn't waste itself all in such useless 
 channels as this. I suspect strongly, 
 though they were too clever to give me 
 all the proof I wanted, that the people 
 down there are in collusion with those 
 Eastern philanthropists, as they 're 
 called, the different societies, you know, 
 and are giving 'em points in the Indian 
 work." 
 
 The senator's lounging attitude 
 changed instantly.
 
 96 
 
 "That'll never do," he cried. " Never, 
 never in the world. Why, Noseby, 
 but go on. Let me hear your report." 
 
 " I was speaking about Sayre break- 
 ing up the gambling, wasn't I? And 
 many a time the Indians have given 
 him their money to keep for them, lest 
 they should gamble it away. 'Twould 
 take considerable witnessing, senator, 
 and of the kind I haven't got, 'to con- 
 vince us that that money wasn't as com- 
 pletely lost to the poor Lo's, and with- 
 out their having had the enjoyment of 
 spending it themselves. In short," and 
 here the inspector searched along his 
 page and faithfully followed copy, " I 
 find, I say, that arbitrary measures have 
 again and again been resorted to and 
 that the free and natural exercise of in- 
 stincts which is necessary to the enjoy- 
 ment of life has in many ways been 
 denied these Indians who, if they are 
 passing away, should be at least allowed 
 to pass away with kindness."
 
 97 
 
 " And as speedily as possible," inter- 
 polated Intrigue. 
 
 " But in that case what would become 
 of our friends ? " questioned the in- 
 spector fastening his eyes for a moment 
 upon the face of the senator. 
 
 " Right, Noseby, quite right. Per- 
 sonal predilections must not interfere 
 with business. Go on." 
 
 " I find many examples of this spirit 
 which I have on hand to heap up for 
 conviction in case of need, to strengthen 
 the dose ; but there's no need of tiring 
 you with the whole of 'em. Here's a 
 case in point. ' I find also in the super- 
 intendent/ " he read, " ' a flagrant act 
 of derision and offence to their medicine 
 man who is, really, priest and prophet 
 of their tribe, a thing wholly unneces- 
 sary and done to curry favor with the 
 Indians of his side, to the total disre- 
 regard, I might say, injury, of all the 
 others.' ' And Noseby gave Pow-watz' 
 version of Wolf's Teeth's story; he
 
 made no mention of anything learned in 
 conversation with the latter; this was 
 off the lines ; decidedly, the senator 
 would not have wanted it. " ' Now, we 
 know,'" he went on quoting carefully 
 from his notes, " ' though an incantation 
 can do no good, it must in the nature 
 of the case be harmless. And to take a 
 man out from under the care of his 
 friends and relatives in this manner was 
 simply outrageous. I don't wonder the 
 medicine man was excited when he told 
 me of it, even alarmingly so. Not to 
 let a poor fellow die among his own is 
 a cruelty not to be condoned.' ' 
 " And did the fellow die after all? " 
 Noseby laughed and nursed his 
 knee. 
 
 "Can't catch you napping, senator," 
 he retorted. "No, he didn't die. He's 
 as well as you or I at this minute. But 
 what of that ? He might have died ; he 
 certainly would have died. And so, 
 isn't the cruelty just the same? Don't
 
 99 
 
 go to spoiling my effects that I've 
 worked up so hard." 
 
 " Indeed I won't," returned the other. 
 
 Both men laughed. 
 
 " Hutchins and Sayre are so mixed 
 up, you couldn't accuse one without the 
 other," the inspector went on. " And 
 that's lucky for us. The government 
 has put two men down there to do the 
 work of five, and I've been round and 
 picked up all the fifth don't do." 
 
 "The fifth?" questioned Intrigue. 
 
 " Yes, the fifth. They do four men's 
 work, and more. But they 're lazy on 
 the fifth, and I 'm sharp after everything 
 they Ve left out on that. It 's going to 
 tell finely. ' Many important things left 
 undone ; too much laziness, anyway.' 
 I 've got dozens of things, big and little, 
 tucked away here in my notebook ; too 
 little clerical work's one thing. You 
 don't care to have me go through the 
 list, I s'pose ! " 
 
 " You can prove them all?" asked
 
 IOO 
 
 Intrigue. "That's to say, Noseby, prove 
 them in your own way, you know." 
 
 " Prove 'em ! " echoed the other with 
 the very tone of injured innocence. 
 "What do you take me for? Do you 
 s'pose there 's the least doubt of my 
 being able to prove everything I Ve got 
 here ? And you may be sure I sha' n't 
 throw in my asides to you by way of 
 explanation," he laughed. "No, sir!" 
 he went on warming with his subject, 
 "there's no doubt, not a particle, 
 NOT EVEN IF I HAD TO PROVE 
 'EM. But that's out of our line, you 
 see. We don't prove ; we STATE. In 
 this enlightened age, senator, we don't 
 hang a fellow on one man's testimony. 
 BUT WE CUT OFF HIS HEAD!" 
 
 The inspector's peal of laughter was 
 echoed by the man whom his state had 
 sent to guard the honor of her name. 
 
 "Pretty good!" he cried. "It's the 
 one man affair that's our tower of 
 strength, Noseby."
 
 101 
 
 The other nodded. "Twouldn't 
 answer to have jury investigations," he 
 returned with a laugh. "Let's hold 
 like the grip to the one man evidence. 
 Long may it wave ! " 
 
 " Yes," returned the senator with an 
 expression of bitter irony, 
 
 " ' long may it wave 
 
 O 'er the land of the free and the home of the 
 brave.' " 
 
 Again the inspector laughed. Then 
 the talk drifted to desultory news from 
 different reservations and about different 
 people. Noseby told with infinite gusto 
 how an agent, a friend of his, had 
 wanted the place of superintendent on a 
 certain reservation for a cousin of his 
 own, and not being able to succeed in 
 his efforts to oust the superintendent, 
 he had succeeded in having the super- 
 intendency abolished. 
 
 "And at least that left him a good 
 deal freer," commented the senator.
 
 IO2 
 
 But soon he returned to the matter in 
 hand. 
 
 " That suggestion about the danger 
 of a jury," he began, " reminds me of 
 what you said about the men down 
 there being in collusion with these 
 Eastern people, these societies. This 
 must n't be allowed upon any account 
 whatever. Once let this fad of co- 
 operation get a grip on those young 
 Indians, and our day has gone. Why, 
 you tell me they 're trying to get them 
 to think and act for themselves in- 
 stead of hanging round waiting for 
 the government to provide for them, 
 its precious wards. But I say, let 'em 
 hang. Precious little it will do for 
 'em so long as you and I and those 
 who believe like us are to the fore. 
 Ours is a defensive war, Noseby, we 
 must keep off the enemy at any cost, 
 AT ANY COST, I say. We must cut 
 the connections." 
 
 "Rather ticklish business, isn't it?"
 
 IQ3 
 
 inquired the inspector with great in- 
 terest. 
 
 "Not at all," smiled the other, " if we 
 go at it properly. We can't switch off 
 the men at this end of the line, nor buy 
 them up. BUT WE OWN THE 
 OTHER END. There's where we 
 must make the break, cut, or drop the 
 other end, it 's all the same. And 'twill 
 have to come from a cut, anyway." 
 
 "A cut?" 
 
 "Yes. Don't you see, Noseby? 
 Cut the salaries. There's the great 
 army of the unemployed would send out 
 volunteers for next to nothing. We 
 should be able to buy up just such men 
 as we want, souls and all, for much less 
 than the salaries we pay the Sayre kind. 
 Probably there is n't a man here, well, 
 to put it rather strongly, who would n't 
 be glad to get a friend or two in, just to 
 get rid of him. So, that in one way or 
 another we ought to be able to hold the 
 field by occupying it."
 
 IO4 
 
 They laughed, and Noseby added, 
 " Oh, as to that, I '11 warrant there 
 would n't be reservations enough to go 
 round." 
 
 "Rotation in office, that's what we 
 want here especially," resumed Intrigue 
 with decision. " Why, do you begin 
 to realize what the opposite has done to 
 us? Take these two Eastern schools. 
 In one case Government can't put the 
 head out, well, for that matter, it can't 
 in the other either. There 's where the 
 societies come in; they'd raise one in- 
 fernal howl through the land. We 
 don't dare ; that 's the only reason why 
 we don't do it. But what 's the conse- 
 quence? A fifteen years' chance well 
 used, oh, it means a stride straight 
 over the neck of our system. Where 
 should we have been if those Western 
 men had had such a chance ? But they 
 never shall ; it's only the nearness to 
 their friends that would give 'em a 
 chance ? Indians in the abstract nobody
 
 cares for. But these Eastern schools 
 bring 'em too near ; they begin to grow 
 individual, AND THEY SHOW UP 
 TOO WELL. Noseby, the Eastern 
 schools must be choked off." 
 
 In his earnestness the senator leaned 
 forward, and his voice rose to impres- 
 siveness. 
 
 " Easy to say," returned the other. 
 " But, as you've remarked just now, it's 
 been tried before. And then, all the 
 commissioners take to these." 
 
 "All the commissioners don't vote 
 the supplies. WE DO. What have 
 you to say to this ? Mind you, 
 Noseby," he went on, " I don't recom- 
 mend the wholesale way of doing 
 things. Slide down gradually and un- 
 dermine the service. As long as we 
 can't kill off the Indian, we'll use him. 
 I hate him," he added with emphasis. 
 
 " So do I," returned Noseby. " When 
 you try me with that soft berth, sen- 
 ator,"
 
 io6 
 
 " You see how all this thing works," 
 the other went on without heeding him. 
 "Put first-class people out there, and 
 intercourse breeds interest here ; and 
 interest wakes up the people. Our saf- 
 est, if not our richest field will be lost. 
 'So, the economy that saves money for 
 the country by this cut on the salaries 
 works in two ways ; economy is always 
 popular, and it keeps the Indian field in 
 our hands." 
 
 " There's one thing more, senator, in 
 regard to congressional economy that 
 you forgot to mention," said Noseby 
 bending a trifle nearer his companion 
 than was agreeable to the companion. 
 For the senator was in no way unmind- 
 ful of the distance that separates the 
 gentleman who pays for his work to be 
 done for him and the villain who does it 
 for the pay. But his sudden haughti- 
 ness did not disconcert the man who 
 had resolved to stand one day as high 
 as he, even to surroundings. " Econ-
 
 107 
 
 omy in some ways," he went on, " gives 
 a man a chance to do a fair thing for 
 himself in another way. That's what 
 people ought to expect. You're here to 
 spend the Government money, you 
 congressmen, and to choose your own 
 way of doing it." 
 
 And leaning back in his chair, his 
 eyes, by chance, lighted upon a choice 
 painting that Intrigue had just bought 
 and that, it happened, had actually come 
 from money which the senator had 
 known how to make his position yield 
 him so liberally. 
 
 The other moved uneasily, eyed 
 Noseby with a stare, which, as it pro- 
 duced no other effect than an indulgent 
 smile, gave way to a look of compre- 
 hension under which he strove to hide 
 the embarrassment that he had the 
 grace to feel. But this, too, gave way 
 when he perceived how completely a 
 matter of course this use of his opportu- 
 nities appeared to his companion.
 
 io8 
 
 With one of the inconsistencies of 
 human nature, he scored this trait 
 against Noseby in his future dealings 
 with him as the mark of a dangerous 
 unscrupulousness. But at the moment 
 he returned the smile, and the educa- 
 tion which, for good or ill every man 
 bears with him for every other man was 
 not lost upon the inspector. 
 
 "It's worth something, senator, 
 recollect," said Noseby as he rose to 
 go, "to turn men on true evidence, 
 true on one side, you know, out of the 
 best governed reservation in the ser- 
 vice ; and I shall have hard work to do 
 it ; for some of the powers that be 
 actually don't object to good men." 
 
 "Well, aren't you capable of it?" 
 
 Noseby winked. The senator had to 
 stand it; he needed him. 
 
 "Is it really the best governed reser- 
 vation in the service ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes. Don't you want a good place 
 for your friends?" They'll find things
 
 i op 
 
 in fine order, if I haven't tipped 'em 
 up a bit," he added under his breath. 
 
 " Things won't stay so long, I'll be 
 bound," returned the other, " for Green 
 has never seen an Indian, and Barnes 
 hates 'em as much as we do. But then, 
 the fellows will get in, and it's not my 
 fault if they don't stay." 
 
 " Make room for the next ones," 
 suggested the inspector with the smile 
 that Intrigue did not like when it was 
 directed against himself. 
 
 " If you succeed with my men," he 
 began, when the other interrupted him. 
 
 " It's my business to get the others 
 out," he said, "and I'll bet on doing it. 
 Why, the sheer goodness of their 
 superiors will settle the whole business. 
 I've only to present the case in my own 
 powerful way, hey, senator ? But as to 
 putting the others in, they've been 
 in Government service somewhere a 
 while ago, you say, which makes it 
 easier. But, anyway, it's your racket,
 
 no 
 
 and I presume you know how to work 
 it. If not, 'twill be the first neat little 
 job you ever did get stuck on." 
 
 The other shrugged his shoulders. 
 "If you succeed," he answered, "be 
 sure I won't forget my part of the con- 
 tract." 
 
 " No," returned Noseby with a laugh, 
 "I'm quite sure you won't. It's not 
 your way to forget your friends," he 
 pursued ignoring the congressional 
 frown. 
 
 "And you're confident of success?'' 
 questioned the senator with a touch of 
 that haughtiness which would be over- 
 whelming in case of failure. 
 
 " Confident ? When I've found fault 
 with everything from the food straight 
 up, or down ! Yes, I'll bet on that," 
 He smiled at Intrigue. "Do you forget 
 that before I went down I knew just 
 what I was to find?" he asked. "We 
 sized up the business, you recollect, and 
 got points on the things considered
 
 Ill 
 
 the most objectionable. I have 'em all 
 here." And he touched his note book. 
 " You can always find what you look 
 for, if it's fault," he went on. " And, 
 then there was a nice little girl down 
 there in the school to help me ; she 
 didn't mind giving me points, and 
 plenty of 'em ; and I suspect that certain 
 things I particularly wanted would have 
 been missing if she hadn't made 'em for 
 me. So kind in her! I gave her no 
 end of compliments, which she appre- 
 ciated vastly. But she would like 
 something rather more solid, you know, 
 promotion, for instance. I promised 
 it to her. I hope you'll help me to get 
 it for her. It wouldn't be bad for your 
 friends, either. You see, scalping these 
 fellows all in a minute early in June will 
 give your friends a chance at next year's 
 nominations." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," responded In- 
 trigue making a few hurried notes and 
 evidently anxious to get rid of his
 
 112 
 
 visitor, and determined to get rid of 
 him in another way by giving him the 
 utmost of his desire politically, even if 
 this were a post that he was notoriously 
 unfitted for. "I'm all ready when the 
 thing's done to carry out my part of the 
 agreement," he repeated, rising and 
 edging the other toward the door. 
 "So, that's a sure thing.' 
 
 "That's fair play!" laughed the 
 other. " And good morning to you, 
 senator." And he went out smiling. 
 
 "He might have said 'Thank you,'" 
 muttered Intrigue. " But, after all, the 
 one thing important is to provide for 
 my friends, and then to get rid of him." 
 He sat down and took up his pen 
 again. 
 
 It was some time, however, before he 
 could collect his thoughts to go on 
 with his work. 
 
 Noseby, still smiling, large, florid, 
 fluent, successful and living only for 
 success, worshipping it as the idol of
 
 "3 
 
 his dreams, conscious through his 
 long course of ignoring them, of 
 obligations to no other human being 
 than himself, unless to those whom he 
 served through self-interest, ran down 
 the steps of Intrigue's house, and in 
 his swift landing on the sidewalk almost 
 upset a man with whom he sharply 
 collided. He laughed, apologized, and 
 hurried on, muttering to himself, still 
 laughing, 
 
 " Old star-gazer ! " 
 
 It was true that the man was gazing 
 at the stars as, high overhead, they 
 floated out against the sky as deep a 
 blue as the azure in which these were 
 set. For it was Decoration Day. And 
 this old man's eyes were dim and the 
 pain filled his heart with its old keen- 
 ness. It seemed to him to be down- 
 ward that he was gazing into a grave 
 in which lay his only son who should 
 have been the staff of his old age. The 
 flag had been draped around him, the
 
 114 
 
 flag he had died for in those days when 
 the land teemed with heroes. This son, 
 dead with a wound in the breast, had 
 helped to mend the ghastly rent in the 
 dear old flag. It had been knitted 
 together, it seemed to the old man, with 
 the very life tissues of those who had 
 died for it ; the blood of their courage 
 had reddened its stripes, the purity of 
 their devotion made fairer its whiteness, 
 and their loyalty had been like the deep 
 background of its stars, that back- 
 ground from which the stars of our 
 union shine out. 
 
 He seemed to see the processions 
 winding through the graveyards of the 
 land and laying their tributes of flowers 
 at the graves of its soldiers. At the 
 moment he felt life all the more lonely. 
 But it was joy that through all the sad 
 years past and to come, the dear old 
 flag had waved and would wave 
 unstained and without the loss of a 
 star.
 
 "5 
 
 " Old star-gazer ! " Noseby had called 
 him in open scorn. 
 
 For what cared Noseby and In- 
 trigue who had fought and won the 
 battles ? To them the question was of 
 spoils. The dead were welcome to 
 their empty honors, so long as they 
 themselves held the substance. 
 
 And so, while Intrigue prepared to 
 work his will in his own place, Noseby 
 with the buoyant step of a triumph 
 already won, walked on to the delivery 
 of his official report, a report that 
 through many true statements warped 
 to suit his purpose, he had made to 
 read so like the truth that an honest 
 desire to act with fairness upon it was 
 not likely to penetrate the disguise 
 without the weapons of further evi- 
 dence. And, even if it could, what 
 power Noseby and his colleagues had 
 to carry through their purpose ! Every- 
 where were men and reinforcements for 
 them. Resistance on all sides was im-
 
 n6 
 
 possible. And let them once make a 
 gap and spring into it, and defence was 
 hopeless ; the fortress was won, not 
 betrayed, it may be, but conquered. 
 
 So, while Sayre and Hutchins were 
 putting down again that element of in- 
 subordination to civilized rule which the 
 presence and authority of Noseby had 
 made rampant, the official gallows was 
 being built for these Mordecais whose 
 honor was a reproach to the dishonor of 
 their superiors.
 
 VI. 
 
 i AY had come, and gone ; 
 and the expectancy which 
 had followed Noseby's visit 
 had died out in the hearts 
 of the Indian leaders. The vigorous 
 rule which had asserted itself once 
 more seemed to them not only inflexi- 
 ble, but permanent. With Pow-watz, 
 to be sure, hope still lingered, and he 
 expressed this to Queseo. But the 
 chief was not sanguine, and the two 
 had ceased to discuss the matter, even 
 with the head men. 
 
 It was almost the middle of June, the 
 late afternoon of a sultry day, that 
 Wasu and Chekotoco sat on a rude 
 bench under a tree in the school 
 grounds. They were acknowledged 
 lovers, and not only did life run for 
 them in the " golden sands " suited to
 
 n8 
 
 this fact, but there was in their future 
 an actual brightness and hope. The 
 young Indian had shown himself of 
 better stuff than Sayre had at one time 
 dared to dream was in him, and there 
 seemed no reason why these two 
 should not have as free and happy and 
 civilized a life among the healthful 
 influences of civilization as any young 
 white couple. 
 
 That afternoon they had been sitting 
 silent awhile, the young man pondering 
 over some information that he had 
 received, when he turned to Wasu. 
 
 " And are they all talking about us 
 Indians ? " he asked. " And do they 
 do it often, you say ? " 
 
 As he spoke, he nodded toward the 
 window of a corner room in the school 
 building, Mrs. Sayre's parlor, 
 through which figures could be seen 
 and from which floated out the sound of 
 eager voices. 
 
 " Yes," answered Wasu, " they talk
 
 about Indians, Mr. Hutchins, and Mrs. 
 Hutchins, and the missionaries, and 
 Mr. and Mrs. Sayre. They talk about 
 us often, what they shall do for us. 
 Mrs. Sayre told me." 
 
 Chekotoco's eyes wandered from the 
 window and the school grounds far out 
 over the plain to the horizon where the 
 sky of June met the earth in a blue as 
 deep as that of the summer sea, except 
 over the divide where the warmth of 
 coming sunset had mellowed it to the 
 zenith. The vivid impressions of his 
 school days had been somewhat worn 
 away by the attritions of reservation life, 
 and this landscape which enclosed his 
 present looked to him large and im- 
 portant. 
 
 And yet the life beyond this horizon, 
 the one like his past, had its keen 
 attractions for him. It was the power 
 of reaching forth to this outside life 
 which gave the white man his import- 
 ance in the Indian's eyes.
 
 I2O 
 
 He looked down at the little figure 
 beside him. " Perhaps they 're talking 
 about us now, Wasu," he said. 
 
 Wasu blushed and smiled, like any 
 white girl whose wedding day is only a 
 week off and who feels the whole air 
 astir with preparations, and believes, 
 although she will not say it, that there 
 can be nothing so important this side of 
 the event. 
 
 "Yes, they talk of us part of the 
 time," she answered demurely. "They 
 have so much to do for us. Mrs. 
 Sayre, she take so much trouble. But 
 she say it not too much for a good girl 
 like me." 
 
 " That 's so," returned Chekotoco, his 
 face radiant. 
 
 And while the people in conclave in 
 the house discussed the affairs of the 
 reservation with that unity of interest 
 and purpose which enabled them to do 
 much excellent work and to make in 
 many places beginnings which with time
 
 121 
 
 and care would lead to fine results, the 
 lovers sat and talked of the future that 
 would be opened to them through this 
 very care and zeal. If white men and 
 women elsewhere were like these, the 
 young Indians were more than ready to 
 go out among them and take their 
 birthright. Chekotoco's ambition had 
 been stirred and his love for Wasu 
 appealed to as a stimulus to urge him 
 forward. And Wasu's ambition was 
 unflagging. 
 
 As they sat there a figure came up 
 to the gate and passed through, and 
 Wolf's Teeth strode up and sat down 
 beside them. He was full of the fine 
 wedding for his daughter that was com- 
 ing off so soon. 
 
 " Big tubs lemonade," he said, " and 
 all the Indians have all they want. In- 
 dians all fishes that day, they so dry. 
 And then they have feast, too. The 
 white man give it. Cost heap money. 
 When you go out, Wasu, with the white
 
 122 
 
 people, you get heap money, too. You 
 give us a feast. What say, Cheko- 
 toco?" And the Indian broke into a 
 laugh of amused anticipation. 
 
 The others laughed also, with no 
 dissent in their tones ; and in some way 
 the distance and strangeness which 
 Wolf's Teeth had dreaded so much in 
 their going away, though he would not 
 speak of them, were lessened. 
 
 Wolf 's Teeth told what he had been 
 doing, how Napooaz, whom he now 
 always called George Washington, had 
 settled down to farming like any white 
 man, how Accowvootz liked to hear the 
 money jingle in his pockets and for this 
 reason was coming to exert himself 
 more and more ; how his uncle, Arreep, 
 had given up storing his things in the 
 house that had been built for him and 
 had gone into it himself to live. And 
 many other changes he spoke of which 
 had come about through the labors of
 
 123 
 
 these people now in conference in Mrs. 
 Sayre's little parlor. 
 
 At last he turned to Chekotoco. 
 The amusement had gone from his face, 
 and even his manner had gained the 
 dignity of intense earnestness. 
 
 "Chekotoco," he said, "you go out 
 among white men. You the son of our 
 chief ; you stand first here. You stand 
 first there; you work; you make them 
 find out Indian somebody. Will you?" 
 
 A flash in the young man's eyes 
 answered the fire in Wolf's Teeth's. 
 Wasu slipped her hand into her lover's, 
 and as she met its pressure, she turned 
 to her father. 
 
 "Yes, he will," she answered, her 
 face lighting up with earnestness. 
 
 " Yes, I will," said Chekotoco. 
 "They'll see the Indian is behind 
 nobody." 
 
 The older man nodded his satisfac- 
 tion. "Ya, ya," he said. "That good.
 
 124 
 
 You do well ; then we try some more 
 Indians." 
 
 As he spoke there arose from the 
 point of the horizon over the divide 
 where the trail winds down into the 
 plain a cloud of dust that hid from them 
 for the moment the foe who was to cut 
 athwart their hopes and plans. Then 
 the figure of a horse and behind him of 
 a man in a wagon, the figure of Queseo, 
 were silhouetted against the western 
 sky. 
 
 It was at this moment that Sayre 
 leaning out of the window for a breath 
 of the air which came sparingly that hot 
 afternoon, saw far down the road, rising 
 against the blue line of the horizon, 
 another cloud of dust. In the perfect 
 level of the plain it was long before he 
 could discern clearly the object which he 
 knew at once that this heralded, the 
 daily stage which brought them their 
 mail and their news from the outer 
 world, and rare visitors, an inspector,
 
 125 
 
 perhaps, or an army officer, scarcely 
 ever any other. For a time after Nose- 
 by's visit the mail had been looked 
 forward to with apprehension. But the 
 results feared had tarried now so long 
 that in their work the thought of these 
 had almost passed from the minds of 
 the men always more occupied with 
 hopes and plans than with fears. 
 
 As now along the dusty road the 
 lumbering coach drew nearer and 
 nearer, Sayre was far more interested 
 in what Mr. Rathman, the missionary, 
 was reading as to an opening promised 
 his artist boy where he could work his 
 way and still study than in any thought 
 of his mail. He watched the coach 
 absently, and as he caught sight of 
 Queseo coming down the slope of the 
 divide and about to reach the school, 
 if he were coming here, at the same 
 time with the stage, he smiled to him- 
 self through his listening at the thought 
 of Queseo coming for the mail.
 
 126 
 
 As the stage drew toward the door, 
 the three on the bench rose and went to 
 the piazza to be present at the event 
 of the day, its arrival. 
 
 " Somebody's come," said Wasu in 
 her own tongue, as she ran up the 
 steps. " Perhaps it's company for Mrs. 
 Sayre, and she'll want me." 
 
 Sayre had turned away again, and 
 the people in the room were too busy 
 to notice what was going on outside, 
 until a scraggy hand worked at the 
 fastenings of the stage door and a harsh 
 voice called, "What 're you about? 
 Let us out of this, can't you ? " 
 
 At the same moment the door gave 
 way and the speaker landed somewhat 
 precipitately on the steps. He recov- 
 ered himself, and turning, helped out 
 two ladies, leaving the remaining occu- 
 pant of the stage to follow them. 
 
 Sayre looked at the two men, one 
 domineering, the other sly of face. He 
 bent his head a moment, and his brows
 
 127 
 
 knitted. Then he rushed into the office 
 where the mail was just being distrib- 
 uted. 
 
 The rest of the party collected from 
 the parlor to the piazza. Here Mrs. 
 Sayre's look of expectation was met by 
 a stare from each member of the quar- 
 tette. 
 
 " Won't you walk in ? " she asked. 
 
 "I reckon we will," answered the 
 older man with a laugh. 
 
 And pushing past, he attempted to 
 lead the way. 
 
 But Mrs. Sayre was too quick for 
 him ; and it was she who held open the 
 door of her parlor for the strangers. 
 These filed in and seated themselves 
 without even waiting for the invitation 
 which was upon the lips of their 
 hostess. 
 
 " I reckon you'd better take this lady 
 to her room at once," pursued the elder 
 of the two men ; " or show her round 
 an' she'll choose for herself. My wife
 
 128 
 
 an' I'll go up to the other house after a 
 bit. Wouldn't you like to go with 'em, 
 Eliza, an' wash your face an' freshen up 
 for supper ? " 
 
 Sayre coming into the room caught 
 the last words. He exchanged a glance 
 with his wife, and nodded to her with- 
 out speaking. 
 
 " Wasu ! " she called. 
 
 The girl came in. She looked at the 
 two strange women with an insight 
 which would have angered them could 
 they have suspected anything under her 
 staidness. For she could not have 
 defined, but she saw that one was 
 vinegar-faced and the other phlegmatic 
 to stupidity. 
 
 " Show these ladies to the guest 
 room, Wasu dear," said Mrs. Sayre. 
 
 "Is that the way you talk to In- 
 dians ? " asked the younger woman with 
 a toss of her head. " There's none of 
 that trash about me, I can tell you." 
 She cast a glance of defiance at Mrs.
 
 129 
 
 Sayre and with her companion quitted 
 the room in Wasu's wake. 
 
 Hutchins broke the seal of the letter 
 which Sayre had just handed him, read 
 and passed it back to him, receiving 
 Sayre's own in exchange. " You are 
 Mr. Barnes, the new agent ? " he asked 
 the older man. " And you are Mr. 
 Green, the new superintendent?" he 
 said to the other. 
 
 "Takes great acumen to discover 
 us ! " sneered he who was to be the 
 schoolmaster. " Who else could we 
 be, as you must have known days 
 ago?" 
 
 " It's only in these letters just re- 
 ceived that this information has come," 
 returned Sayre ; " or you'd have found 
 us more ready for you." 
 
 "Not a doubt of it!" returned the 
 new agent with his discordant laugh. 
 " But, if I'm not mistaken, that's 
 what the office wished to guard against, 
 you're being too ready for us, setting
 
 130 
 
 your Indians on their ear. Ready ! I 
 guess so." 
 
 " Sir ! " thundered Sayre. 
 
 The man stopped, actually frightened 
 by Sayre's look. " I that's what was 
 told me," he said. 
 
 " It's a lie, sir, whoever said it ; 
 and any more such information as you 
 may have received you will keep to 
 yourself, or say it out of my hearing. 
 Remember that." 
 
 " I will," meekly returned the new 
 agent. 
 
 As he turned his head, he caught 
 sight of the face of an Indian looking in 
 at the door, a wondering face, as if its 
 owner could not take in the situation 
 fully, and yet with dismay upon it, as if 
 he had already perceived enough for 
 dismay. Barnes had no wish to give 
 himself away, as he put it. If Sayre 
 would make no trouble, none should 
 come through his indiscretion. He 
 turned his back upon Wolf's Teeth
 
 with contempt, and began to speak to 
 Hutchins. 
 
 It was Green who caught sight of an 
 Indian face at the window, a face 
 framed in lank hair and matted braids, 
 its eyes glowing with a wild exultation, 
 its lips shut tightly to repress the shout 
 that seemed ready to break forth, its 
 look turned now upon Barnes and then 
 upon Sayre in a silent laughter that 
 twisted every wrinkle into hideous con- 
 tortion. 
 
 Fear seized upon Green. It seemed 
 to him that a fiend was mocking at 
 them. He turned deadly pale ; he 
 tried to withdraw his eyes from the 
 window. But they were held there as if 
 fascinated. And in another moment he 
 found that the eyes in this face were 
 looking at him, through him ; they had 
 found out his terror and were exulting 
 in it, gloating over it. Then they turned 
 to the new agent, and pierced to a dis- 
 quiet there deeper than his arrogance.
 
 132 
 
 They took in the dignity of Hutchins, 
 the man whose words, as the Indians 
 knew, were like his bullets which " hit 
 every time." 
 
 They turned upon Sayre. Here was 
 the keenest interest, the test of what 
 the others were. 
 
 Sayre stood apart, silent, his eyes 
 flashing, his brows knitted, his head 
 thrown back. On one side his wife 
 watched him ; on the other this Indian 
 face. 
 
 Suddenly, he became conscious of 
 scrutiny. He turned, and met the 
 flaming eyes of the Indian. 
 
 But these eyes in meeting his own, 
 lost their fire, wavered, and fell. 
 
 The face disappeared from the win- 
 dow. 
 
 " Little white chief, he lost his scalp, 
 as the white man say," muttered its 
 owner. " But just the same his big 
 heart beat. But this will not be for 
 long. It our turn now."
 
 133 
 
 " It's our turn now," he repeated 
 with all his exultation returned in the 
 knowledge that the power of Sayre and 
 Hutchins was gone, and that Sayre's 
 successor was afraid of Queseo, the 
 Indian chief. No animal was ever 
 quicker to note signs of terror in the 
 human animal born to dominate them 
 than were these Indian leaders who 
 longed for the savage life to note the 
 impression that they made upon these 
 specimens of the dominant white man 
 with whom they came in contact. It 
 takes civilization to respect an office in 
 spite of the man who fills it. The eye 
 of this new agent and that of the super- 
 intendent counted more to the Indians 
 than their seals of office. 
 
 It was what Queseo had found in the 
 eye of Green that sent him home with 
 the wild shout ringing out into the 
 night so soon as he had gone beyond 
 the reach of the agency settlement, for 
 he could not forget that Sayre and
 
 134 
 
 Hutchins were still there. He had 
 gone to the agency to ask a permis- 
 sion ; he came back to announce a vic- 
 tory of which in spite of Noseby's in- 
 sinuations and Pow-watz' faith he had 
 not dared to dream. 
 
 In the summer twilight his waving 
 arm could be seen as he drove up to 
 the camps, and his cry of news brought 
 the whole village about him. 
 
 " I'm chief again ! " he cried. " And 
 Pow-watz the medicine man. They 
 ' kicked out ' ; that what the little white 
 chief calls it. His big heart no use 
 now. The new white men, they not 
 have big heart ; they afraid of Queseo, 
 the Indian chief. Let them be. We 
 keep them afraid." 
 
 Then his eye lighted upon Cheko- 
 toco who had followed his father to 
 camp, and now stood among the re- 
 turned students who had grouped them- 
 selves together as if to meet united the 
 impending blow to their liberties.
 
 For they knew how Hutchins and 
 Sayre had mitigated to them by every 
 possible means the evils of camp lifej 
 The two men recognized in these young 
 people the solution of the Indian prob- 
 lem. And they saw in them also a 
 more personal appeal, a band of young 
 soldiers struggling to do their best in a 
 forlorn hope. They came to the res- 
 cue ; they stimulated them to long for 
 and to try for the life of other young 
 Americans ; they strove to put into 
 their hands the weapons of knowledge 
 and skill, and to bring up to their aid 
 the reserve forces of opportunity which 
 lagged so far in the rear. 
 
 All in a moment, this was over. But 
 even their despair did not recognize 
 how utterly until Queseo caught sight 
 of his son among them. 
 
 " Chekotoco ! " called the chief in 
 tones that the young man then and 
 there did not think it wise to disregard. 
 
 He came forward.
 
 156 
 
 " It not matter now if you twenty 
 one," shrieked the chief. " Mr. Sayre 
 not be here any longer to tell me you 
 of age, you too old to obey your father. 
 It not the white man's rule here now. 
 You not forget that. Every young 
 man will do as his father tell him. 
 That's my orders." 
 
 His imitation of Sayre's tone and 
 manner would have been amusing had 
 not the situation been fatal for many of 
 his listeners. 
 
 " We have a medicine dance now," 
 announced Pow-watz. 
 
 The old rule had indeed come back; 
 and no mourning for this dared show 
 itself in face of the blatant exultation. 
 All the summer night the chief, the 
 medicine man, and a few other choice 
 spirits with them sat in conference, and 
 in their plotting to grasp the reins of 
 power over their people firmly once 
 more, not one Indian who was doing his 
 best to become civilized was forgotten.
 
 137 
 
 The young men were portioned out 
 to one and another to be brought into 
 subjection. 
 
 With the disappearance of the face 
 from the window Green breathed freely 
 again, and began to question Mrs. Sayre 
 in regard to the building, the rooms and 
 the pupils. He did not quite like to 
 speak to Sayre, that silence of his was 
 too formidable 
 
 As they were talking, the two women 
 returned. Mrs. Sayre explained to 
 Mrs. Green that their ignorance of the 
 change of superintendents had made it 
 impossible to be ready for them, but 
 that in a few days they would be ready 
 to leave the field in order to the new 
 comers. 
 
 "In a few days!" shrieked Mrs. 
 Green. " What am / to do in the 
 mean time? I can't do anything with 
 other people round. Our position 
 dates from today noon. You'll have to 
 be packed and out of this tonight."
 
 Sayre looked up sharply. He was 
 about to speak, then checked himself 
 and stood silent with head erect. They 
 had many friends among the Indians. 
 If there should come to these an idea of 
 any dissension, and such an idea would 
 fly quickly, there would be trouble, 
 annoyance and bitterness if nothing 
 more serious. This should not be. 
 
 " My last month's salary has not come 
 yet through some detention," he said 
 finally with studied quietness. "My 
 home is hundreds of miles off, and I 
 shall be obliged to ask your forbearance 
 for a day until I can get at some 
 money; for, not looking for this, I'm 
 short." 
 
 "Why," began Mrs. Rathman, "you 
 must come" when she stopped in 
 wonder at a figure that strode into the 
 room. Wasu had returned and was 
 standing beside Mrs. Sayre. It was 
 Wolf's Teeth who came in with a 
 glance far from friendly at the new
 
 139 
 
 comers, and walked directly up to 
 Sayre. 
 
 "Mr. Sayre," he began, "I have 
 house. My squaw and me, ve go out- 
 side ; you and Mrs. Sayre, you come in 
 there. I not forget when you give me 
 your best room. I give you mine. 
 You not stay where they not want you. 
 Indians give you all they have ; they 
 proud to have you in their houses." 
 
 Mrs. Sayre's head went down with a 
 sob on Wasu's shoulder. 
 
 Sayre choked. " Thank you, Wolf's 
 Teeth," he said brokenly, and grasped 
 the dark hand held out to him. 
 
 "You want money," pursued Wolf's 
 Teeth. " I got it here in my pocket, 
 thirty dollars. And I go round to the 
 Indians, I get you five hundred quicker 
 'n you can talk. You say so, they give 
 it to you. They like the white man's 
 way, some white man's way," he added 
 with a sweeping glance of scorn at the 
 new officials. "You take this now; I
 
 140 
 
 get you more." And he thrust a roll of 
 bills into Sayre's hand. " I earn it all 
 myself," he added; " you keep that if 
 you want it." 
 
 "Thank you, my kind friend," said 
 the little, dark man, his eyes glistening. 
 " I will borrow this of you while I need 
 it. But do not get me any more.'' 
 Not for worlds would he thrust back 
 the money upon the Indian then and 
 there. But he would return him his 
 own bills again before he left the reser- 
 vation. 
 
 "This won't do, Catherine," said 
 Green in an undertone to his wife. 
 " See here, Mrs. Sayre," he added 
 aloud, "of course you'll stay here as 
 long as you need to ; we sha'n't think of 
 anything else. Do you want the In- 
 dians glowering at us?" he asked in 
 another aside. " You'd better take 
 care." 
 
 To go to Mrs. Rathman's with their 
 family, although urgently invited, would
 
 have seriously inconvenienced the mis- 
 sionaries. To accept Wolf's Teeth's 
 offer, to say nothing of its inconven- 
 ience, would publish disagreement with 
 the new . people, although for the 
 moment Sayre was tempted to do it. 
 Under the circumstances they had a 
 right to remain at the school. 
 
 And they did so. 
 
 The following evening Hutchins and 
 Sayre with their families quitted the 
 reservation. 
 
 Their hearts were heavy as they 
 realized the troubles that must come 
 from the men who had taken their 
 places, and feared the despair and 
 wreck that would come to many lives 
 under the old Indian rule which Sayre 
 had seen in his glance at Queseo's face 
 was purposed, even if the next day had 
 not brought assurance of this. 
 
 For Pow-watz had come to demand 
 rather than to ask a medicine dance; 
 and his lowering visage had secured to
 
 142 
 
 him all his desires. It had been one of 
 the triumphs not to be soon forgotten 
 that this demand had been granted to 
 him in the very face of Hutchins whose 
 beginning of explanation of the danger 
 of it had been met by the statement that 
 he was "out" now, and that it belonged 
 to those who were "in" to decide such 
 matters. 
 
 Hereafter Pow-watz would have a 
 clearer idea than ever of what being 
 " out" meant.
 
 VII. 
 
 RS. SAYRE had tried so 
 hard to bring Wasu away 
 with her. It would also 
 have been the surest way 
 to get hold of Chekotoco. 
 
 Wolf's Teeth would have been glad ; 
 but her mother refused. The agent 
 also had interfered. Wasu was the best 
 trained girl in housework in the school ; 
 Mrs. Green needed her help. It was 
 meddlesome in them to have any longer 
 interest in the Indians, and, turned out 
 with ignominy as they had been, they 
 had better leave things alone. 
 
 They had tried to have Wasu married 
 at Mr. Rathmam's that evening of their 
 deposition. But Chekotoco, not fore- 
 seeing any such arrangement, had fol-
 
 144 
 
 lowed his father to camp, and had not 
 returned the next day, being in fact 
 kept prisoner by Queseo who chose 
 that he should have no final talk with 
 Sayre. Mr. Rathman, however, prom- 
 ised to look after the two, to marry 
 them, and, if possible, to send them out 
 of the reservation to the place that 
 Sayre had opened for them. 
 
 Sayre wrote Chekotoco all final direc- 
 tions, wrote his friend that Hutchins 
 and himself had been kicked out of the 
 service as if they had disgraced it, but 
 that the young Indian with his wife 
 would probably be with him at about 
 such a time. 
 
 Then he waited for news of them. 
 
 The letter to Chekotoco reached the 
 office. Barnes had taken upon himself 
 the duty of distributing the mail. He 
 and Green decided that the letter was 
 from Sayre, and that it was not for 
 their interest to deliver it. They 
 pigeon-holed it. In case of necessity
 
 145 
 
 it could appear as something over- 
 looked. 
 
 At the time of its arrival the young 
 man was hanging about the school, 
 waiting to see Wasu. It was only two 
 days from the time set for their wed- 
 ding, and they perceived not the small- 
 est preparation. Mr. Rathman who 
 realized that being upon bad terms with 
 the new people would hamper his work, 
 had taken no action in the matter 
 further than gaining a promise from 
 Wasu that she would come to him if she 
 needed him. 
 
 "Have you asked her?" said the 
 young man as he and Wasu stood 
 talking together. 
 
 Wasu answered her lover that she 
 had not. " She so cross," added the 
 girl. " She say she need me all the 
 time, I too big to go to school any 
 longer, I know enough. Mrs. Sayre, 
 she always told me to study more, it do 
 me good. I do what Mrs. Sayre tells
 
 146 
 
 me. I go to school every afternoon. 
 I get out of her way, too," said the 
 Indian girl with a shrewd smile. " You 
 ask Mr. Green, Chekotoco," she went on. 
 
 " I did ask him. He said he was too 
 busy to talk about it. You ask her 
 tomorrow." 
 
 " Yes, I will," returned Wasu. 
 
 And then Mrs. Green called her. 
 
 "Don't be standing round talking to 
 young men, Wasu ; it's very bad in 
 you," she said sharply as the girl en- 
 tered the house. 
 
 Wasu's eyes opened wide ; she 
 turned breathless a moment in amaze- 
 ment and anger. Then she began, 
 
 " Chekotoco" 
 
 " I don't want to hear one word about 
 Chekotoco," interrupted the other. 
 " Put your thoughts upon your work 
 and see if you can't wash those dishes 
 quicker than you did yesterday. My 
 gracious ! such slowness ! I can't stand 
 it."
 
 *47 
 
 It was true that Wasu was slow ; but 
 she was very thorough, and she was 
 conscientious to a remarkable degree. 
 When Mrs. Sayre had wanted to hurry 
 her she used to run a race with her and 
 would sometimes let the girl come out 
 ahead laughing at her triumph. Then 
 she would say, " Wasu, you got up 
 steam that time." It had been so easy 
 to work then Wasu said to herself that 
 afternoon, and even things she did not 
 like to do had always gone off well 
 when Mrs. Sayre was round. She did 
 not go off to her work in response to 
 Mrs. Green's order. She faced the wife 
 of the new superintendent. 
 
 " Chekotoco and I be married the 
 day after tomorrow," she announced. 
 " Mrs. Sayre, she was going to give 
 us a wedding, and have lemonade for 
 the Indians; we have a fine time. 
 Didn't she tell you about it ? " 
 
 " A wedding ! And lemonade ! And 
 all the Indians howling around here ?
 
 148 
 
 Goodness gracious! 'Twould drive me 
 wild to think of it. What a crazy 
 notion. None of such nonsense for 
 
 M 
 
 me. 
 
 Wasu did not know what " crazy" 
 meant ; but she did understand and 
 resent the word " nonsense." Her 
 temper which under Mrs. Sayre's judi- 
 cious and affectionate treatment had 
 seemed to have no existence, began to 
 flame. But she still controlled herself. 
 
 " Didn't Mrs. Sayre tell you ? " she 
 repeated. 
 
 " No, indeed ! " returned the other. 
 
 A shadow fell over Wasu's face. " I 
 be married the day after tomorrow just 
 the same," she said. " I promise Che- 
 kotoco." 
 
 "What of that? Tell him you've 
 changed your mind. Lots of white girls 
 do that. I promised three men and 
 changed my mind before I married Mr. 
 Green." 
 
 " I should think he not have you,"
 
 149 
 
 returned Wasu. " He better not," she 
 added. 
 
 The other's face crimsoned with fury. 
 She stamped her foot. But something 
 in the Indian girl's look restrained her. 
 As soon as she could command her 
 voice, she said. 
 
 " Just for your impertinence, if noth- 
 ing else, I sha'n't let you be married 
 till I'm ready. I've got to train some- 
 body to take your place first, and I 
 sha'n't hurry, I tell you." 
 
 "I not know what impertinence 
 means," answered Wasu. " But I 
 promised Chekotoco, and I marry 
 him." 
 
 " Don't answer me back again, and 
 go to your work. You will do as I tell 
 you. That's what we're here for, to 
 make the Indians mind." 
 
 Nevertheless, she was slightly aston- 
 ished when the girl disappeared. 
 
 Ten minutes later she went into the 
 kitchen to find it empty.
 
 I5Q 
 
 Wasu had run over to the mission- 
 ary's with all her speed. 
 
 She told her story with the pathos of 
 helplessness mingling with her anger. 
 " Mrs. Sayre promise me she tell her 
 about the wedding," she said with a 
 grief over betrayed friendship deeper 
 than her anger. 
 
 "Mrs. Sayre did tell her, Wasu," 
 cried Mrs. Rathman, " I heard her my- 
 self." 
 
 "And Mrs. Green, she tell me a lie?" 
 cried the girl. " I never go into her 
 house again ; she not fit for Indians." 
 
 Mr. Rathman's moustache concealed 
 his smile, and Mrs. Rathman looked at 
 her with shining eyes. 
 
 " But what will you do, Wasu dear?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " I stay with you." 
 
 " I should be too glad to have you ; 
 but it would make trouble with those 
 people. Still, you shall not be sent 
 away."
 
 " I not make trouble," returned Wasu. 
 " I go home." But the tone was sad. 
 For Wasu's mother was a camp Indian; 
 she often wandered off from Wolf's 
 Teeth to the freedom of the Indian 
 village, and if she had control of Wasu, 
 there was little doubt but that she 
 would take the girl with her whether 
 Wasu wished it or not. The young 
 girl perceived all this, for tears ran over 
 her downcast face. "There's plenty of 
 room in the camps," she added, " they 
 always like Indians in the camps." 
 
 And then she began to sob. 
 
 " No, no, dear child, you shall not go 
 there," cried the missionary's wife. " I 
 have it, Will," she said to her husband. 
 "Marry them on the spot. Send for 
 Chekotoco this moment." 
 
 " I'll do it!" cried Rathman. And he 
 sent his messenger. 
 
 " Chekotoco must be right round 
 here," said Wasu drying her eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Rathman brought out some cake,
 
 152 
 
 made coffee in place of the coveted 
 lemonade, and found a ring that would 
 serve as a wedding ring, for she com- 
 prehended that the need of symbols is 
 in inverse ratio to the presence of civili- 
 zation. She sent for Wolf 's Teeth, and 
 when he came she explained the cir- 
 cumstances to him as well as she could 
 without saying evil of Mrs. Green and 
 speaking too plainly of the situation 
 generally. 
 
 But the Indian saw as clearly as she 
 did. He approved of the step. 
 
 " They hold on to the young In- 
 dians down in the camp," he said. 
 "They not let them marry white man's 
 way. I not want Wasu there. She 
 marry Chekotoco now ; and then she go 
 back to the school. And Mr. Sayre, he 
 send soon, he always do as he say. 
 Then they go way off. It hard for 
 me; but it better for them. I do like 
 the white man." 
 
 At the end of the simple service Mrs.
 
 '53 
 
 Green and her husband and the agent 
 walked in. The woman was white with 
 rage, and treated the company to a few 
 expressions more forcible than elegant. 
 She flatly refused to take back Wasu ; 
 she attacked the missionaries for abet- 
 ting the girl in disobedience, and de- 
 clared that the camp was the best place 
 for such Indians. 
 
 Chekotoco raised his head haughtily. 
 
 "We go to camp," he said. "My 
 father Indian chief. We stay there till 
 Mr. Sayre send for us. Come, Wasu." 
 
 The girl's tears came again. 
 
 " No, you shall not go to camp, you 
 shall stay here with us," cried Mrs. 
 Rathman. " You shall work in the 
 mission till you go away." 
 
 Mr. Rathman seconded the invitation 
 heartily. 
 
 The girl looked up at her young 
 husband wistfully. 
 
 " Fine encouragement to insubordina- 
 tion you're setting," cried Mr. Barnes.
 
 154 
 
 " I declare, you shall be reported as 
 mischief makers, interfering between us 
 and our duties. You shall suffer for 
 this." 
 
 Chekotoco's decision was made. 
 
 "They shall not suffer for us, Wasu," 
 he said. "They've been kind to us. 
 We thank you." And he turned to the 
 missionaries. " Come, Wasu," he said 
 again. "Mr. Sayre send soon." 
 
 Barnes and Green exchanged glances. 
 They believed that Mr. Sayre's letter 
 was where it would take some time in 
 reaching the young people. 
 
 "No, we not do that," said Wasu 
 sadly. And Wolf's Teeth joined them. 
 "We live all right in the camp, Mrs. 
 Rathman," said the young bride. " We 
 make other Indians want to come and 
 get married, too." 
 
 And so, in spite of all persuasions, 
 they went away. 
 
 Barnes never troubled himself to 
 learn what followed.
 
 But three weeks later he received a 
 letter from Say re's friend who, having 
 heard no word from the young Indians, 
 wrote to inquire about them. Barnes 
 returned answer that they had gone 
 back to camp like all Indians, and were 
 probably as bad as the worst; it often 
 happened so. 
 
 The inquirer was convinced that his 
 friend Sayre was too big-hearted to be 
 anything but a "crank" on Indian 
 matters, and Sayre could never get a 
 satisfactory explanation of the reason 
 why the other had changed his mind 
 and would take no more trouble in the 
 matter, in spite of the urgency of the 
 ex-superintendent when he learned the 
 whole story. 
 
 Three days had gone by, three days 
 never to be forgotten in the lives of 
 these two young Indians who had found 
 among their own people the iron hand 
 of a despotism that the civilized world
 
 has outgrown. Queseo would by no 
 means endure that his own son should 
 defy his rule, this would be an excep- 
 tion which would make everthing in- 
 complete. 
 
 As to a girl, she was scarcely worth 
 the thought necessary to bring her into 
 submission. Poor Wasu was hoping 
 that she would be considered of too 
 little consequence to be remembered at 
 all on this day which was so full of 
 importance to the wild Indians, the 
 day of the great dance. She had said 
 to herself that if she could not stay at 
 the camps and live a civilized life, it 
 would be easy to go back again to Mrs. 
 Rathman. 
 
 But it was not so. Chekotoco was to 
 be made an example of submission, and 
 she, as the wife of the chief's son, was 
 to be fitted for him in all Indian ways. 
 
 She hid her face in her hands as she 
 recalled with a shudder the looks and 
 words of the squaws who had told her
 
 this in more forceful terms than words 
 alone, as they had torn off from her 
 roughly the clothing she had worn to 
 camp and had put the Indian dress in its 
 place. 
 
 And when she had put on another 
 one from her trunk which Mrs. Green 
 had sent after her, this had been treated 
 in the same way, and the trunk taken 
 from her. She must wear the Indian 
 dress, or nothing. 
 
 But the dance was about to begin. 
 If they would only forget her! And 
 where was Chekotoco ? She had not 
 seen him all day, not since he had left 
 the tepee when Pow-watz had sent for 
 him that morning. 
 
 Why would not this be a good time 
 to run away to the agency, to run away 
 from the reservation altogether ? They 
 were like white people, and these would 
 help them. 
 
 And then Wasu remembered her In- 
 dian dress ; and again she buried in her
 
 hands the face that she had lifted in a 
 momentary hope, and sobbed bitterly. 
 
 Oh, where was Mr. Sayre's letter? 
 Where was Mrs. Sayre's love for her ? 
 Why had she and Chekotoco known 
 better at all, if this was to be the end of 
 it? What did they go to school and 
 learn white ways for, if it was only to 
 have more pain? 
 
 Poor little Wasu ! Here she was in 
 the forefront of the battle, helpless, as 
 unarmed as ignorance, overawed by the 
 tyranny to which her early training had 
 made her susceptible, and, more even 
 than this, she had been under physical 
 compulsion and might be again at any 
 moment. 
 
 Chekotoco and she were indeed in 
 the forefront of the battle, and all the 
 forces which should have brought aid 
 had retired and left them unsupported. 
 
 As Wasu sobbed on, softly, lest even 
 this noise should betray her, her quick 
 ear caught the sound of steps.
 
 159 
 
 She listened. 
 
 They were coming nearer. 
 
 She threw her glance about the 
 tepee ; and with the step of a cat crept 
 to a pile of robes thrown upon the 
 floor, and in the stifling heat opened 
 the mass and plunged into it, throwing 
 the robes entirely over herself as she 
 crouched on the earth, leaving only a 
 little space close by the ground for 
 breath. 
 
 The steps came to the door of the 
 tepee, and stopped. 
 
 Three squaws, one of them Cheko- 
 toco's mother, looked in. 
 
 " She run away," said one. 
 
 "No," said the chiefs squaw; "I 
 watch the tepee all day ; and Wa-sa-jah 
 watch other side. Queseo say so. 
 She's here, Who-lac-cy." 
 
 The search began. 
 
 " I told you she's here," said the 
 leader, dragging out Wasu. 
 
 They led her off in triumph. They
 
 i6o 
 
 prepared her for the dance. Two held 
 her hands, and the third painted her 
 face. She found that struggle was only 
 likely to get the paint into her eyes and 
 mouth, and so she stood still. Then 
 they unbound her hair. 
 
 At the end of their labors it would 
 have been impossible to recognize 
 Wasu, the school girl. She was com- 
 pletely an Indian squaw. Only He that 
 looketh not on the outward appearance 
 could know that she was just the same 
 with only an added hate of Indian ways. 
 
 It was her mother who led her out 
 into the space where the dancers were 
 assembled. 
 
 Wolf's Teeth was not there. 
 
 Here were the squaws hideous with 
 paint, and the braves even more 
 hideous. The tomtoms were beating, 
 the men and women were taking their 
 places. Eyes always hard were grow- 
 ing harder with the glint of excitement 
 in them.
 
 r6i 
 
 Pow-watz at Queseo's elbow presided 
 and governed all things. His cruel 
 eyes took in the shrinking Wasu, and 
 watched as Chekotoco in the full 
 Indian rig which had been forced upon 
 him by threats that Wasu should never 
 hear, threats of danger to her, crossed 
 the space and came up to her. 
 
 Others were watching, also, young 
 people like these, who, like these, had 
 submitted to their hard fate, whose 
 eyes were full of pity for the two, 
 and for one another, but whose lips 
 dared utter here no word of sympathy. 
 
 But Wasu and Chekotoco in that 
 moment saw only each other. 
 
 She put her hand into his, and he 
 held it firmly. 
 
 "We have to do it," he whispered to 
 her. We are Indians, and only Indians. 
 All the rest has gone far away. This is 
 all that is left. This is our home. We 
 must live in our home." 
 
 He led her into the dance where
 
 Queseo and Pow-watz had commanded 
 their attendance. 
 
 And in so doing he led her into the 
 old Indian life. 
 
 What bitter tears, what sorrows are 
 before them ! 
 
 And like them there are hundreds, 
 yes, thousands.
 
 BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR 
 
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