The Westerners

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by Stewart Edward White


  V

  LAFOND DESERTS

  The eight men of the attacking party returned slowly to the little dipof land which held the temporary camp. They were defeated, baffled,and angry. If a stranger had accosted them at that moment, he wouldprobably have been gruffly answered one minute and assaulted the next.But for the present they were silent. They were Anglo-Saxons andTennessee mountaineers for the most part; hence they were alsoadaptable, and attuned to the fatalism that comes from muchcontemplating of cloud-capped peaks and wind-swept pines.

  Not so with Michail Lafond, who alternately raved and wept, franticallybrandishing his rifle. An impassive mountaineer sat behind him,holding him to the party. If not thus restrained, he would, in theheat of anger, have attacked the whole train single-handed, for he wasbrave enough in his way. The sober second-thought of the Indian in himmight perhaps have caused him to pause on the brink of the charge andsink into the long grasses to await the chance of a more silent blow;but the impulse up to that point would have been real and whole-souled.So it was now. The man raved as a maniac might. He called down thecurses of heaven on his companions for cowards.

  And in this, when he reached camp, he was ably seconded by the women.They surrounded him in a voluble and indignant group, and listened tohim with sympathy, casting glances of scorn toward their passive lordsand masters in the background. In their way they became as excited asLafond. One or two wept. Most employed the variety of theirvocabularies in giving the world what is known as a "piece of theirminds."

  In the still air of a prairie morning their hysterical cackle rose likethe crying of an indignant band of brant. Lafond told, dramatically,what should have been done. The women, in turn, told how effectivelythey would have done it. The men were taking stock of the situation.

  The mountaineers wasted little discussion on what might have been done.The question before them was that of the most practical method ofreturning over the long miles of prairie they had traversed in theirpursuit of Alfred and his outfit. They entertained not a moment'sdoubt as to the necessity of the return. Their equipment consisted nowof ten horses and six wagons. By humoring the animals they might beable to get through with a pair to each schooner. This meant theabandonment of one of the wagons, and the lightening of the others. Itwas decided. One of the men strode to the group of women.

  Lafond was in the midst of a tirade, but when he saw the mountaineerapproach, he prepared to pay eager attention to the plan of action.

  "H'yar," announced the latter, with a little the heavier shading on hisaccustomed drawl, "that's enough of this h'yar jaw, I reckon. You-allcome along and pack up."

  "And when is it that we do pursue them?" asked Lafond eagerly.

  "Pursue nothin'," replied the man. "We're goin' back."

  There was a moment's silence.

  "And you intend not to get that revenge?" the half-breed inquired.

  "Revenge!" snorted the man. "You damn fool--with _that_ outfit?" Heswept a descriptive gesture toward the women. "Besides, what's thegood now?" Lafond fell silent, and withdrew from the group.

  The man of mixed blood is not like other men, and cannot be judged bythe standards of either race. From his ancestors he takes qualitieshaphazard, without balance or proportion, so that the defects ofvirtues may often occur without the assistance of the virtuesthemselves. And, besides, he develops traits native to neither of theparent races, traits which perhaps can never be comprehended by us whocall ourselves the saner people. He is superstitious, given to strangeimpulses, which may unexpectedly, and without reason, harden intoconvictions; obscure in his ends; unscrupulous in his means. No manlives who can predict what may or may not suffice to set into motionthe machinery of his passions. A triviality is enough to-day.To-morrow the stroke of a sledge may not even jar the cogs. But, oncestarted, the results may be tremendous, and quite out of proportion tothe first careless touch on the lever. Such passions are dangerous,both to their possessor and to those who stand in their way.

  A SIOUX COUNCIL]

  Now, from the gainsaying of his lesser revenge--the proving to BillyKnapp the futility of his objections--Lafond conceived the desire for agreater. There entered into his life one of those absorbing passionswhich are to be encountered in all their intensity only in such men ashe--passions which come to be ruling motives in the lives of those whoharbor them; gathering to themselves all lesser forces which are spreadmore evenly over saner existences; losing their first burningintensity, perhaps, but becoming thereby only the more sustained, cool,and deadly; so that at the last they lie unnoticed in the background ofthe man's ordinary life, coloring, influencing every act--a religion towhich, without anger, but without relenting, he bends everylong-planned effort of even his trivial and daily deeds. You may notunderstand this, unless you have known a half-breed; but it is true.

  Interrupted in the midst of his flow of anger, and deprived of theimmediate solace of shooting things at his enemies, Lafond fell into asulking fit. During the rest of the day he brooded. After dark thatnight he wound his way silently through the grasses, crept up behindthe solitary sentinel considered necessary in this peaceful country,stabbed the man in the back, and returned to camp. Thus his way wasclear. Then he took from the wagons three slabs of bacon, a small sackof coffee, a large supply of powder, lead, and caps, a blanket, and afrying-pan and cup. With these he mounted the hill, past the deadsentinel, to the ponies. Two of the latter he drew apart from theherd. One of them he saddled; the other he packed with his supplies.Then the half-breed led them silently westward for a good half-mile.Then he mounted and rode away.

 

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