Laughing Bill Hyde and Other Stories

by Rex Beach

  RUNNING ELK

  Up from the valley below came the throb of war drums, the faint rattleof shots, and the distant cries of painted horsemen charging. Frommy vantage-point on the ridge I had an unobstructed view of theencampment, a great circle of tepees and tents three miles incircumference, cradled in a sag of the timberless hills. The soundscame softly through the still Dakota air, and my eye took in everysharp-drawn detail of the scene--ponies grazing along the creekbottom, children playing beneath the blue smoke of camp-fires, thedense crowd ringed about a medicine pole in their center, intent on awar-dance.

  Five thousand Sioux were here in all their martial splendor. They werepainted and decked and trapped for war, living again their days ofplenty, telling anew their tales of might, and repeating on a mimicscale their greatest battles. Five days the feasting had continued;five mornings had I been awakened at dawn to see a thousand ochered,feathered horsemen come thundering down upon the camp, their horsesrunning flat, their rifles popping, while the valley rocked to theirbattle-cries and to the answering clamor of the army which rode forthto meet them. Five sultry days had I spent wandering unnoticed,ungreeted, and disdained, an alien in a hostile land, tolerated butunwelcome. Five evenings had I witnessed the tents begin to glow andthe campfires kindle until the valley became hooped about as if by amillion giant fireflies. Five nights had I strayed, like a lost soul,through an unreal wilderness, harkening to the drone of stories toldin an unfamiliar tongue, to the minor-keyed dirges of an unknown race,to the thumping of countless moccasined feet in the measures of queerdances. The odors of a savage people had begun to pall on me, and thesound of a strange language to annoy; I longed for another white man,for a word in my own tongue.

  It was the annual "Give-away" celebration, when all the tribeassembles to make presents, to race, to tell stories, and to recountthe legends of their prowess. They had come from all quarters of thereservation, bringing their trunks, their children, and their dogs. Ofthe last named more had come, by far, than would go back, for this wasa week of feasting, and every day the air was heavy with the smellof singeing hair, and the curs that had been spared gnawed at anever-increasing pile of bones.

  I had seen old hags strangle dogs by pulling on opposite ends of aslip-noose, or choke them by laying a tent-pole on their throats andstanding on the ends; I had seen others knock them down with billetsof wood, drag them kicking to the fires, and then knock them downagain when they crawled out of the flames. All in all, I had acquiredmuch information regarding the carnival appetites of the noble redman, learning that he is poetic only in the abstract.

  It was drawing on toward sunset, so I slipped into my camera strap anddescended the slope. I paused, however, while still some distanceaway from my tent, for next to it another had been erected during myabsence. It was a tiny affair with a rug in front of it, and upon therug stood a steamer-chair.

  "Hello, inside!" I shouted, then ran forward, straddling papooses andshouldering squaws out of my way.

  "Hello!" came an answer, and out through the flap was thrust the headof my friend, the Government doctor.

  "Gee! I'm glad to see you!" I said as I shook his hand. "I'm aslonesome as a deaf mute at a song recital."

  "I figured you would be," said the doctor, "so I came out to see thefinish of the feast and to visit with you. I brought some bread fromthe Agency."

  "Hoorah! White bread and white conversation! I'm hungry for both."

  "What's the matter? Won't the Indians talk to you?"

  "I guess they would if they could, but they can't. I haven't found oneamong the whole five thousand who can understand a word I say. YourGovernment schools have gone back in the betting with me, Doc. Youmust keep your graduates under lock and key."

  "They can all speak English if they want to--that is, the youngerones. Some few of the old people are too proud to try, but the otherscan talk as well as we can, until they forget."

  "Do you mean to say these people have been fooling me? I don't believeit," said I. "There's one that can't talk English, and I'll make a beton it." I indicated a passing brave with an eagle-feather head-dresswhich reached far down his naked legs. He was a magnificent animal;he was young and lithe, and as tall and straight as a sapling. "I'vetried him twice, and he simply doesn't understand."

  My friend called to the warrior: "Hey, Tom! Come here a minute."The Indian came, and the doctor continued, "When do you hold thehorse-races, Thomas?"

  "To-morrow, at four o'clock, unless it rains," said the fellow.He spoke in an odd, halting dialect, but his words were perfectlyunderstandable.

  "Are you going to ride?"

  "No; my race-horse is sick."

  As the ocher-daubed figure vanished into the dusk the old man turnedto me, saying, "College man."

  "What?"

  "Yes. B.A. He's a graduate."

  "Impossible!" I declared. "Why, he talks like a foreigner, or as if hewere just learning our language."

  "Exactly. In another three years he'll be an Indian again, through andthrough. Oh, the reservation is full of fellows like Tom." Thedoctor heaved a sigh of genuine discouragement. "It's a melancholyacknowledgment to make, but our work seems to count for almostnothing. It's their blood."

  "Perhaps they forget the higher education," said I; "but how about theAgency school, where you teach them to farm and to sew and to cook, aswell as to read and to write? Surely they don't forget that?"

  "I've heard a graduating class read theses, sing cantatas, and deliversounding orations; then I've seen those same young fellows, threemonths later, squatting in tepees and eating with their fingers. It'sa common thing for our 'sweet girl graduates' to lay off their whitecommencement-day dress, their high-heeled shoes and their pretty hats,for the shawl and the moccasin. We teach them to make sponge-cake andto eat with a fork, but they prefer dog-soup and a horn spoon. Ofcourse there are exceptions, but most of them forget much faster thanthey learn."

  "Our Eastern ideas of Mr. Lo are somewhat out of line with the facts,"I acknowledged. "He's sort of a hero with us. I remember severalsuccessful plays with romantic Indians in the lead."

  "I know!" My friend laughed shortly. "I saw some of them. If you like,however, I'll tell you how it really happens. I know a story."

  When we had finished supper the doctor told me the story of RunningElk. The night was heavy with unusual odors and burdened by weirdmusic; the whisper of a lively multitude came to us, punctuated atintervals by distant shouts or shots or laughter. On either hand thecampfires stretched away like twinkling stars, converging steadilyuntil the horns joined each other away out yonder in the darkness. Itwas a suitable setting for an epic tale of the Sioux.

  "I've grown gray in this service," the old man began, "and the longerI live the less time I waste in trying to understand the differencebetween the Indian race and ours. I've about reached the conclusionthat it's due to some subtle chemical ingredient in the blood. Onerace is lively and progressive, the other is sluggish and atavistic.The white man is ever developing, he's always advancing, alwaysexpanding; the red man is marking time or walking backward. It is onlya matter of time until he will vanish utterly. He's different from thenegro. The negro enlarges, up to a certain limit, then he stops. Somepeople claim, I believe, that his skull is sutured in such a manner asto check his brain development when his bones finally harden and set.The idea sounds reasonable; if true, there will never be a seriousconflict between the blacks and the whites. But the red man differsfrom both. To begin with, his is not a subject race by birth.Physically he is as perfect as either; Nature has endowed him withan intellect quite as keen as the white man's, and with an openarticulation of the skull which permits the growth of his brain.Somewhere, nevertheless, she has cunningly concealed a flaw, a flawwhich I have labored thirty years to find.

  "I have a theory--you know all old men have theories--that it isa physical thing, as tangible as that osseous constriction of thecranium which holds the negro in subjection, and that if I could laymy finger on it I could raise
the Indian to his ancient mastery andto a dignified place among the nations; I could change them from avanishing people into a race of rulers, of lawgivers, of creators. Atleast that used to be my dream.

  "Some years ago I felt that I was well on my way to success, for Ifound a youth who offered every promise of great manhood. I studiedhim until I knew his every trait and his every strength--he didn'tseem to have any weaknesses. I raised him according to my own ideas;he became a tall, straight fellow, handsome as a bronze statue of agod. Physically he was perfect, and he had a mind as fine as his body.He had the best blood of his nation in him, being the son of a warchief, and he was called Thomas Running Elk. I educated him at theAgency school under my own personal supervision, and on every occasionI studied him. I spent hours in shaping his mind and in bending himaway from the manners and the habits of his tribe. I taught him tothink like a white man. He responded like a growing vine; he becamethe pride of the reservation--a reserved but an eager youth, with anunderstanding and a wit beyond that of most white boys of his age.Search him as rigorously as I might, I couldn't find a single flaw. Ibelieved I was about to prove my theory.

  "Running Elk romped through our school, and he couldn't learn fastenough; when he had finished I sent him East to college, and, in orderto wean him utterly away from the past, instead of sending him toan Indian school I arranged for him to enter one of the big Easternuniversities, where no Indian had ever been, where constantassociation with the flower of our race would by its own force raisehim to a higher level. Well, it worked. He led his classes as astag leads a herd. He was a silent, dignified, shadowy figure; hisfellow-students considered him unapproachable, nevertheless theyadmired and they liked him. In all things he excelled; but he wasbest, perhaps, in athletics, and for this I took the credit--a Joviansatisfaction in my work.

  "News of his victories on track and field and gridiron came to meregularly, for his professors were interested in my experiment. As forthe boy himself, he never wrote; it was not his nature. Nor did hecommunicate with his people. He had cut himself off from them, and Ithink he looked down upon them. At intervals his father came to theAgency to inquire about Running Elk, for I did not allow my protegeto return even during vacations. That was a part of my plan. At mystories of his son's victories the father made no comment; he merelylistened quietly, then folded his blanket about him and slipped away.The old fellow was a good deal of a philosopher; he showed neitherresentment nor pleasure, but once or twice I caught him smiling oddlyat my enthusiasm. I know now what was in his mind.

  "It was in Running Elk's senior year that a great thing came to him,a thing I had counted upon from the start. He fell in love. A girlentered his life. But this girl didn't enter as I had expected, andwhen the news reached me I was completely taken aback. She was a girlI had dandled on my knees as a child, the only daughter of an oldfriend. Moreover, instead of Running Elk being drawn to her, as I hadplanned, she fell desperately in love with him.

  "I guess the gods were offended at my presumption and determined byone hair's-breadth shift to destroy the balance of my whole structure.They're a jealous lot, the gods. I didn't understand, at that time,how great must have been the amusement which I offered them.

  "You've heard of old Henry Harman? Yes, the railroad king. It was hisdaughter Alicia. No wonder you look incredulous.

  "In order to understand the story you'll have to know something aboutold Henry. You'll have to believe in heredity. Henry is a self-mademan. He came into the Middle West as a poor boy, and by force ofindomitable pluck, ability, and doggedness he became a captain ofindustry. We were born on neighboring farms, and while I, after alifetime of work, have won nothing except an underpaid Governmentjob, Henry has become rich and mighty. He had that indefinable,unacquirable faculty for making money, and he became a commandingfigure in the financial world. He's dominant, he's self-centered, he'sone-purposed; he's a rough-hewn block of a man, and his unboundedwealth, his power, and his contact with the world have never smoothednor rounded him. He's just about the same now as when he was a sectionboss on his own railroad. His daughter Alicia is another Henry Harman,feminized. Her mother was a pampered child, born to ease and enslavedto her own whims. No desire of hers, however extravagant, ever wentungratified, and right up to the hour of her death old Henry neversaid no to her--partly out of a spirit of amusement, I dare say, andpartly because she was the only unbridled extravagance he had everyielded to in all his life. Well, having sowed the wind, he reaped thewhirlwind in Alicia. She combined the distinguishing traits of bothparents, and she grew up more effectively spoiled than her mother.

  "When I got a panicky letter from one of Running Elk's professorscoupling her name vaguely with that of my Indian, I wavered inmy determination to see this experiment out; but the analyst isunsentimental, and a fellow who sets out to untangle the skein ofnature must pay the price, so I waited.

  "That fall I was called to Washington on department business--wewere fighting for a new appropriation--and while there I went to thetheater one night. I was extremely harassed, and my mind was filledwith Indian matters, so I went out alone to seek an evening's relief,not caring whither my feet took me.

  "The play was one of those you spoke of; it told the story of a youngIndian college man in love with a white girl. Whether or not it waswell written I don't know; but it seemed as if the hand of destiny hadled me to it, for the hero's plight was so similar to the situation ofRunning Elk that it seemed almost uncanny, and I wondered if this playmight afford me some solution of his difficulty.

  "You will remember that the Indian in the play is a great footballhero, and a sort of demi-god to his fellows. He begins to considerhimself one of them--their equal--and he falls in love with the sisterof his chum. But when this fact is made known his friends turnagainst him and try to show him the barrier of blood. At the finish amessenger comes bearing word that his father is dead and that he hasbeen made chief in the old man's place. He is told that his peopleneed him, and although the girl offers to go with him and make herlife his, he renounces her for his duty to the tribe.

  "Well, it was all right up to that point, but the end didn't help mein shaping the future of Running Elk, for his father was hale, hearty,and contented, and promised to hang on in that condition as long as wegave him his allowance of beef on Issue Day.

  "That night when I got back to the hotel I found a long-distancecall from old Henry Harman. He had wired me here at the Agency, and,finding I was in Washington, he had called me from New York. He didn'ttell me much over the 'phone, except that he wanted to see me at onceon a matter of importance. My work was about finished, so I took thetrain in the morning and went straight to his office. When I arrived Ifound the old fellow badly rattled. There is a certain kind of worrywhich comes from handling affairs of importance. Men like Henry Harmanthrive upon it; but there's another kind which searches out the jointsin their coats of mail and makes women of them. That's what Henry wassuffering from.

  "'Oh, Doc, I'm in an awful hole!' he exclaimed. 'You're the only manwho can pull me out. It's about Alicia and that damned savage ofyours.'

  "'I knew that was it,' said I.

  "'If you've heard about it clear out there,' Harman declared, with acatch in his voice, 'it's even worse than I thought.' He strode up anddown his office for a few moments; then he sank heavily into his chairand commenced to pound his mahogany desk, declaring, angrily:

  "'I won't be defied by my own flesh and blood! I won't! That'sall there is to it. I'm master of my own family. Why, the thing'sfantastic, absurd, and yet it's terrible! Heavens! I can't believeit!'

  "'Have you talked with Alicia?'

  "'Not with her, _to_ her. She's like a mule. I never saw such a willin a woman. I--I've fought her until I'm weak. Where she got hertemper I don't know.' He collapsed feebly and I was forced to smile,for there's only one thing stubborn enough to overcome a Harman'sresistance, and that is a Harman's desire.

  "'Then it isn't a girlish whim?' I ventured.

  "'_Whi
m!_ Look at me!' He held out his trembling hands. 'She's lickedme, Doc. She's going to marry that--that--' He choked and muttered,unintelligibly: 'I've reasoned, I've pleaded, I've commanded. Shemerely smiles and shrugs and says I'm probably right, in the abstract.Then she informs me that abstract problems go to pieces once in awhile. She says this--this--Galloping Moose, this yelping ghost-dancerof yours, is the only real man she ever met.'

  "'What does he have to say?'

  "'Humph!' grunted Harman. 'I offered to buy him off, but he threatenedto serve me up with dumplings and wear my scalp in his belt. Suchinsolence! Alicia wouldn't speak to me for a week.'

  "'You made a mistake there,' said I. 'Running Elk is a Sioux. As forAlicia, she's thoroughly spoiled. She's never been denied any singlething in all her life, and she has your disposition. It's a difficultsituation.'

  "'Difficult! It's scandalous--hideous!'

  "'How old is Alicia?'

  "'Nineteen. Oh, I've worn out that argument! She says she'll wait. Youknow she has her own money, from her mother.'

  "'Does Running Elk come to your house?'

  "At this my old friend roared so fiercely that I hastened to say:'I'll see the boy at once. I have more influence with him than anybodyelse.'

  "'I hope you can show him how impossible, how criminal, it is to ruinmy girl's life.' Harman said this seriously. 'Yes, and mine, too,for that matter. Suppose the yellow newspapers got hold of this!' Heshuddered. 'Doc, I love that girl so well that I'd kill her with myown hands rather than see her disgraced, ridiculed--'

  "'Tut, tut!' said I. 'That's pride--just plain, selfish pride.'

  "'I don't care a damn what it is, I'd do it. I earned my way in theworld, but she's got blue blood in her and she was born to a position;she goes everywhere. When she comes out she'll be able to marry intothe best circles in America. She could marry a duke, if she wanted to.I'd buy her one if she said the word. Naturally, I can't stand forthis dirty, low-browed Injun.'

  "'He's not dirty,' I declared, 'and he's not as low-browed as someforeigner you'd be glad to pick out for her.'

  "'Well, he's an Injun,' retorted Harman, 'and that's enough. We'veboth seen 'em tried; they all drop back where they started from. Youknow that as well as I do.'

  "'I don't know it,' said I, thinking of my theories. 'I've been usinghim to make an experiment, but--the experiment has gotten away fromme. I dare say you're right. I wanted him to meet and to know whitegirls, but I didn't want him to marry one--certainly not a girl likeAlicia. No, we must put a stop to this affair. I'll see him rightaway.'

  "'To-morrow is Thanksgiving,' said Henry. 'Wait over and go up with usand see the football game.'

  "'Are you going?'

  "Harman grimaced. 'Alicia made me promise. I'd rather take her thanlet her go with friends--there's no telling what she might do.'

  "'Why let her go at all?' I objected.

  "The old fellow laughed mirthlessly. 'Why _let_ her? Running Elk playsfull-back! How _stop_ her? We'll pick you up at your hotel in themorning and drive you up in the car. It's the big game of the year.You'll probably enjoy it. I won't!'

  "Miss Harman seemed glad to see me on the following day. She must haveknown that I was in her father's confidence, but she was too wellschooled to show it. As we rode out in the big limousine I undertookto study her, but the reading of women isn't my game. All I could seewas a beautiful, spirited, imperious girl with the Harman eyes andchin. She surprised me by mentioning Running Elk of her own free will;she wasn't the least bit embarrassed, and, although her father's facewhitened, she preserved her quiet dignity, and I realized that she wasin no wise ashamed of her infatuation. I didn't wonder that the oldgentleman chose to accompany her to this game, although he musthave known that the sight of Running Elk would pain him like abranding-iron.

  "It was the first great gridiron battle I had ever seen, and so I wasunprepared for the spectacle. The enthusiasm of that immense crowdastonished me, and in spite of the fact that I had come as a tired oldman, it got into my veins until my heart pounded and my pulses leaped.The songs, the shouts, the bellows of that multitude were intenselythrilling, for youth was in them. I grew young again, and I was halfashamed of myself until I saw other people of my own age who had alsobecome boys and girls for the day. And the seriousness of it! Why, itwas painful! Not one of those countless thousands was a disinterestedspectator; they were all intensely partisan, and you'd have thoughtlife or death hung on the victory.

  "Not one, did I say? There was one who held himself aloof from all theenthusiasm. Old Henry sat like a lump of granite, and out of regardfor him I tried to restrain myself.

  "We had a box, close to the side lines, with the _elite_ of the Easton either hand--people whose names I had read. They bowed and smiledand waved to our little party, and I felt quite important.

  "You've probably seen similar games, so there's no need of mydescribing this one, even if I could. It was my first experience,however, and it impressed me greatly. When the teams appeared Irecognized Running Elk at a distance. So did the hordes of madmenbehind us, and I began to understand for the first time what it wasthat the old man in the seat next to mine was combating.

  "A dancing dervish in front of the grandstand said something through amegaphone, then he waved a cane, whereupon a tremendous barking, 'Rah!Rah! Rah!' broke out. It ended with my Sioux boy's name, and I wishedthe old chief back in Dakota were there to see his son and to witnessthe honor done him by the whites.

  "Quite as impressive to me as this demonstration was the death-likesilence which settled over that tremendous throng when the teamsscattered out in readiness. The other side kicked off, and the ballsailed high and far. As it settled in its downward flight, I saw alithe, tall shadow of a man racing toward it, and I recognized myboy. I'd lost his position for the moment, but I knew that hungry,predatory stride which devoured the yards as if he were a thing of thewind. He was off with the ball in the hollow of his arm, right backinto the heart of his enemies, dodging, darting, leaping, twisting,always advancing. They tore his interference away from him, but,nevertheless, he penetrated their ranks and none of them could layhands upon him. He was running free when tackled; his assailantlaunched himself with such savage violence that the sound of theirimpact came to us distinctly. As he fell I heard Alicia Harman gasp.Then the crowd gave tongue.

  "From that time on to the finish of the game my eyes seldom leftRunning Elk, and then only long enough to shoot covert glances at mycompanions.

  "Although the skill of my young Sioux overtopped that of all the othercontestants, the opposing team played as one man; they were likea wonderful, well-oiled piece of machinery, and--they scored. Allthrough the first half our side struggled to retaliate, but at theintermission they had not succeeded.

  "So far Running Elk hadn't noticed our presence, but when the teamsreturned for the second half he saw us. He didn't even know that I wasin the East; in fact, he hadn't laid eyes on me for more than threeyears. The sight of me there in the box with Alicia and her fathermust have been an unpleasant shock to him; my face must have seemed anevil omen; nevertheless, he waved his hand at me and smiled--one ofhis rare, reserved smiles. I couldn't help marveling at the fellow'sphysical beauty.

  "I had been secretly hoping that his side would be defeated, so thatMiss Harman might see him for once as a loser; but the knowledge ofour presence seemed to electrify him, and by the spark of his ownmagnetism he fired his fellows until they commenced to play likemadmen; I have no doubt they were precisely that. His spirit was likesome galvanic current, and he directed them with a master mind. He wasa natural-born strategist, of course, for through him ran the blood ofthe craftiest race of all the earth, the blood of a people who havealways fought against odds, to whom a forlorn hope is an assuranceof victory. On this day the son of a Sioux chief led the men ofthat great university with the same skill that Hannibal led hisCarthaginian cohorts up to the gates of Rome. He led them with thecunning of Chief Joseph, the greatest warrior of his people. He wasinde
fatigable, irresistible, magnificent--and he himself tied thescore.

  "In spite of myself I joined madly in the cheering; but the boy didn'tlet down. Now that his enemies recognized the source of their peril,they focused upon him all their fury. They tried to destroy him. Theyfell upon him like animals; they worried and they harried and theybattered him until I felt sick for him and for the girl beside me,who had grown so faint and pale. But his body was of my making; I hadspent careful years on it, and although they wore themselves out, theycould not break Running Elk. He remained a fleeting, an elusive thing,with the vigor of a wild horse. He tackled their runners with theferocity of a wolf.

  "It was a grand exhibition of coolness and courage, for he waseverywhere, always alert and always ready--and it was he who won thegame.

  "There came some sort of a fumble, too fast for the eye to follow, andthen the ball rolled out of the scrimmage. Before we knew what hadhappened, Running Elk was away with it, a scattered field ahead ofhim.

  "I dare say you have heard about that run, for it occurred in the lastthree minutes of play, and is famous in football annals to this day,so I'm told. It was a spectacular performance, apparently devised byfate to make more difficult the labors of old Henry and me. Everyliving soul on those high-banked bleachers was on his feet at thefinish, a senseless, screaming demon. I saw Alicia straining forward,her face like chalk, her very lips blanched, her whole high-strungbody aquiver. Her eyes were distended, and in them I saw a look whichtold me that this was no mere girlish whim, that this was more thanthe animal call of youth and sex. Running Elk had become a fetish toher.

  "The father must likewise have recognized this, for as we passed outhe stammered into my ear:

  "'You see, Doc, the girl's mad. It's awful--awful. I don't know whatto do.'

  "We had become momentarily separated from her, and therefore I urgedhim: 'Get her away, quick, no matter how or where. Use force if youhave to, but get her out of this crowd, this atmosphere, and keep heraway. I'll see _him_ to-night.'

  "The old fellow nodded. 'I--I'll kidnap her and take her to Europe,'he mumbled. 'God! It's awful!'

  "I didn't go back to the city with the Harmans; but I told Aliciagood-by at the running-board of the machine. I don't think she heardme.

  "Running Elk was glad to see me, and I spent that evening with him. Heasked all about his people; he told me of his progress, and he spokelightly of his victory that day. But sound him as I would, I couldelicit no mention of Alicia Harman's name. He wasn't much of a talker,anyhow, so at last I was forced to bring up the subject myself. At myfirst word the silence of his forefathers fell upon him, and all hedid was listen. I told him forcibly that any thoughts of her wereridiculous and impossible.

  "'Why?' said he, after I had finished.

  "I told him a thousand reasons why; I recounted them cruelly,unfeelingly, but he made no sign. As a matter of fact, I don't thinkhe understood them any more than he understood the affair itself. Heappeared to be blinded, confused by the splendor of what had come tohim. Alicia was so glorious, so different, so mysterious to him, thathe had lost all sense of perspective and of proportion. Recognizingthis, I descended to material things which I knew he could grasp.

  "'I paid for your education,' said I, 'and it is almost over with. Ina few months you'll be turned out to make your own living, and thenyou'll encounter this race prejudice I speak of in a way to effectyour stomach and your body. You're a poor man, Running Elk, and you'vegot to earn your way. Your blood will bar you from a good many meansof doing it, and when your color begins to affect your earningcapacity you'll have all you can do to take care of yourself. Lifeisn't played on a gridiron, and the first thing you've got to do isto make a man of yourself. You've got no right to fill your head withdreams, with insane fancies of this sort.'

  "'Yes, sir!' said he, and that was about all I could get out of him.His reticence was very annoying.

  "I didn't see him again, for I came West the next day, and the weeksstretched into months without word of him or of the others.

  "Shortly before he was due to return I was taken sick--the one bigillness of my life, which came near ending me, which made me into thecreaking old ruin that I am. They sent me away to another climate,where I got worse, then they shifted me about like a bale of goods,airing me here and there. For a year and a half I hung over the edge,one ailment running into another, but finally I straightened out a bitand tottered back into Washington to resume operations.

  "For six months I hung around headquarters, busied on departmentmatters. I had lost all track of things out here, meanwhile, for theagent had been changed shortly after I left, and no one had takenthe trouble to keep me posted; but eventually I showed up on thereservation again, reaching here on the first of July, three daysbefore the annual celebration of the people.

  "Many changes had occurred in my two years' absence, and there was noone to bring me gossip, hence I heard little during the first day ortwo while I was picking up the loose ends of my work. One thing I didfind out, however--namely, that Running Elk had come straight homefrom college, and was still on the reserve. I determined to look himup during the festival.

  "But on the morning of the Fourth I got the surprise of my life. Thestage from the railroad brought two women, two strange women, who camestraight to my office--Alicia Harman and her French maid.

  "Well, I was fairly knocked endwise; but Alicia was as well-poised andas self-contained as on that Thanksgiving morning in New York whenshe and old Henry had picked me up in their automobile--a trifle morestunning and a bit more determined, perhaps. Oh, she was a splendidcreature in the first glory of her womanhood, a perfectly groomed andan utterly spoiled young goddess. She greeted me graciously, with thatqueenly air of all great ladies.

  "'Where is your father?' I asked, as she laid off her dust-coat.

  "'He's in New York,' said she. 'I'm traveling alone.'

  "'And where have you been all this time?'

  "'In Europe, mainly; Rome, Naples, Cairo, India, St. Petersburg,London--all about, in fact. Father took me abroad the day afterThanksgiving--you remember? And he has kept me there. But I came ofage two weeks ago.'

  "'Two weeks!' I ejaculated.

  "'Yes, I took the first ship after my birthday. I've been travelingpretty constantly ever since. This is a long way from the world outhere, isn't it?' She looked around curiously.

  "'From your world, yes,' said I, and when she offered nothing furtherI grew embarrassed. I started to speak; then, noting the maid, Ihesitated; but Alicia shook her head faintly.

  "'Lisette doesn't understand a word of English,' said she.

  "'Why have you come out here, Alicia?' I inquired. I was far more illat ease than she.

  "'Do you need to ask?' She eyed me defiantly. 'I respected father'swishes when I was in my minority. I traveled and studied and did allthe tiresome things he commanded me to do--as long as he had the rightto command. But when I became my own mistress I--took my full freedom.He made his life to suit himself; I intend to make mine to suitmyself. I'm sorry I can't please him, but we don't seem to see thingsthe same way, and I dare say he has accepted the inevitable.'

  "'Then you consider this--this move you evidently contemplate asinevitable?'

  "She lifted her dainty brows. 'Inevitable isn't a good word. I wish acertain thing; I have wished it from the first; I have never ceasedfor an instant to wish it; I feel that I must have it; therefore, toall intents and purposes, it is inevtable. Anyhow, I'm going to haveit.'

  "'You have--er--been in communication with--'

  "'Never! Father forbade it.'

  "'Then how did you know he is here?'

  "'He wrote me when he left college. He said he was coming home. I'veheard nothing since. He is here, isn't he?'

  "'So I believe. I haven't seen him yet; you know I've been awaymyself.'

  "'Will you take me to him?'

  "'Have you really weighed this thing?' I remonstrated. 'Do you realizewhat it means?'

  "'Please do
n't.' She smiled wearily. 'So many people have tried toargue me out of my desires. I shall not spoil my life, believe me; itis too good a thing to ruin. That is precisely why I'm here.'

  "'If you insist.' I gave in reluctantly. 'Of course I'll put myselfat your service. We'll look for him to-morrow.' All sorts of wildexpedients to thwart a meeting were scurrying through my mind.

  "'We'll go to-day,' said she.

  "'But--'

  "'At once! If you're too busy I'll ask somebody else--'

  "'Very well!' said I. 'We'll drive out to the encampment.' And I sentfor my buckboard.

  "I was delayed in spite of myself until nearly sundown, and meanwhileAlicia Harman waited in my office, pacing the floor with ill-concealedimpatience. Before starting I ventured one more remonstrance, for Iwas filled with misgivings, and the more I saw of this girl the morefantastic and unnatural this affair seemed. But the unbridled impulsesof her parents were bearing fruit, and no one could say her nay. Sheafforded the most illuminating study in heredity that I have everwitnessed.

  "We didn't say much during our fifteen-mile drive, for I was worriedand Alicia was oddly torn between apprehension and exultation. We hadleft the French maid behind. I don't know that any woman ever went toher lover under stranger circumstances or in greater perturbation ofspirit than did this girl, behind whom lay a generation of selfishnessand unrestraint.

  "It was well along in the evening when we came over the ridge and sawthe encampment below us. You can imagine the fairy picture it madewith its myriad of winking fires, with the soft effulgence of athousand glowing tents, and with the wonderful magic of the night overit all. As we drew nearer, the unusual sounds of a strange merrymakingcame to us--the soft thudding of drums, the weird melody of thedances, the stir and the confusion of crowded animal life. In thedaylight it would have been sufficiently picturesque, but under thewizard hand of the darkness it became ten times more so.

  "When I finally tied my horses and led the girl into the heart of it Ithink she became a bit frightened, for these Indians were the Sioux ofa bygone day. They were barbaric in dress and in demeanor.

  "I guided her through the tangle of tepees, through glaring fire-litcircles and through black voids where we stumbled and had to feel ourway. We were jostled and elbowed by fierce warriors and by sullensquaws. At every group I asked for Running Elk, but he was merely oneof five thousand and nobody knew his whereabouts.

  "The people have ever been jealous of their customs, and as a resultwe were frequently greeted by cold looks and sudden silences.Recognizing this open resentment, my companion let down a thickautomobile veil which effectually hid her face. Her dust-coat was longand loose and served further to conceal her identity.

  "At one time we came upon a sight I would gladly have spared her--thespectacle of some wrinkled hags strangling a dog by the light of afire. The girl at my side stifled a cry at the apparition.

  "'What are they doing?' she gasped.

  "'Preparing the feast,' I told her.

  "'Do they--really--'

  "'They do,' said I. 'Come!' I tried to force her onward, but she wouldnot stir until the sacrifice had been dragged to the flames, whereother carcasses were singeing among the pots and kettles. From everyside came the smell of cooking meat, mingled with the odor of burninghair and flesh. I could hear Miss Harman panting as we went on.

  "We circled half the great hoop before we came upon the trail of ourman, and were directed to a near-by tepee, upon the glowing walls ofwhich many heads were outlined in silhouette, and from which came themonotonous voice of a story-teller.

  "I don't know what hopes the girl had been nursing; she must havelooked upon these people not as kindred of Running Elk, but rather ashis servants, his slaves. Realizing that her quest was nearly ended,her strength forsook her and she dropped behind me. The entrance tothe tepee was congested by those who could not find space inside, butthey rose silently, upon recognizing me, and made room. I lifted theflap and peered within, clearing a view for Miss Harman.

  "We beheld a circle of half-naked braves in full war regalia,squatting haunch to haunch, listening to a story-teller. In front ofthem was a confusion of blackened pails and steaming vessels, intowhich they dipped with their naked fingers. Their faces were streakedwith paint, their lips were greasy with traces of the dish, the airof the place was reeking from their breaths. My eyes were slower thanAlicia's, and so I did not distinguish our quarry at first, although aslow sigh at my ear and a convulsive clutch at my arm told me that hewas there.

  "And then I, too, saw Running Elk. It was he who was talking, to whomthe others listened. What a change two years had wrought! His voicewas harsh and guttural, his face, through the painted daubs andstreaks, was coarser and duller than when I had seen him. His verybody was more thin and shrunken.

  "He finished his tale while we stared at him; the circle broke intocommendatory grunts, and he smiled in childlike satisfaction at theimpression he had made. He leaned forward and, scrutinizing the litterof sooty pots, plunged his hand into the nearest one.

  "Miss Harman stumbled back into the crowd and her place was taken by asquaw.

  "'Running Elk,' I called, over the heads of those next the entrance,and, seeing my face against the night, he arose and came out, steppingover the others.

  "'How do you do?' I said. 'You haven't forgotten me, have you?'

  "He towered head and shoulders above me, his feather head-dress addingto his stature. The beaded patterns of his war-harness stood out dimlyin the half-light.

  "'No, no! I will never forget you, doctor. You--you have been sick.'The change in his speech was even more noticeable when he turnedhis tongue to English. He halted over his words and he mouthed themhesitatingly.

  "'Yes, pretty sick. And you, what are you doing?'

  "'I do what the rest do,' said he. 'Nothing! I have some horses and afew head of cattle, that is all.'

  "'Are you satisfied?' I demanded, sharply. He eyed me darkly for aninstant, then he answered, slowly:

  "'I am an Indian. I am satisfied.'

  "'Then education didn't do you any good, after all?' I was offended,disappointed; I must have spoken gruffly.

  "This time he paused a long while before he replied.

  "'I had dreams,' said he, 'many dreams, and they were splendid; butyou told me that dreams were out of place in a Sioux, so I forgotthem, along with all the things I had learned. It is better so.'

  "Alicia Harman called me in a voice which I did not recognize, so Ishook hands with Running Elk and turned away. He bowed his head andslunk back through the tepee door, back into the heart of his people,back into the past, and with him went my experiment. Since then I havenever meddled with the gods nor given them cause to laugh at me."

  The doctor arose and stretched himself, then he entered his tent fora match. The melancholy pulse of the drums and the minor-keyed chantwhich issued out of the night sounded like a dirge sung by a dyingpeople.

  "What became of Running Elk?" I inquired.

  The old man answered from within. "That was he I asked about thehorse-races. He's the man you couldn't understand, who wouldn't talkto you. He's nearly an Indian again. Alicia Harman married a duke."