Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1895-11-08

prayers and hastings Decahe more frequent
the last 10 rigorous that she begged him
to have care lest his health suffer.
I'VE are commanded" he replied SOL
emily, "to cruelty the old man and ut
.erly abolish the whole body of sim ~
He went about his work like man in .
dream. The melancholy that had always
characterized him had become moodiness,
taciturnity that his wife learned was
best left unquestioned. His favorite sub
jects of conversation had formerly related
to his work Now he never alluded to it.
His texts had been chosen from the New
Testament, that upon which he had most
frequently dwelt being, For their sakes I
sanctify myself, that they also may be
sanctifed through the truth" Now his
sermons were drawn from the Old Tesla
ment and particularly from those accounts
that dwelt upon vengeance and bloodshed.
When he read the lesson telling Of the kill
ing of Sisera, there was a repressed force
in his utterance, an intensity Of dramatic
action in the gestures of his slender hand
and flexible wrist, that brought the scene
with awful vividness before his listeners
"She smote the nail into his temples,
for he was fast asleep and weary. So he
died." His personality was merged into
that of Jael, and exaltation was exultation
over the treacherous and savage deed.
His manner in speaking of his own peo-
pie had formerly been tinged with sadness
Was it wild fancy of his wifes that it
now held subtle pride9 A distinction,
too had evidently grown up between
"these people"-of his fock-and those
among whom his childhood had been
passed.
His walks over the plain became more
frequent. Helen had supposed their object
was the settlement till an allusion to his
work there undeceived her. II have not
been there. walked 20, 80 miles over the
plain" he said, with an excitement that
all her efforts at restraint could not allow
to pass unnoticed.
"ListenP' and the words that followed
were strange to Helen. lit is the tongue
Of my fathers" went on her husband,
with solemn pride. upon the vast empty
plain there was sound from heaven as Of
a mighty rushing wind, and even as the
tongues were given to the disciples at the
day of Pentecost was the language of the
warriors given back to me. With such
words did my father speak when he told Of
his great deeds in the council My father
was great brave. He did not live among
the women and children. He was not .
squaw man. He was Black Kettle!''
Bcwildered at this strange outburst
Helen called beseechingly to her husband
He made no reply. 1t was morning
when he arose from the prize dieu.
For the next few days, except for an al
most unbroken silence, he seemed more
like his former self. Late one afternoon
word was brought to Helen thai woman
had been confined in the settlement and
was dying for lack of food and clothing
The circumstances appealed to her with
peculiar force. Filling basket with food
and hastily selecting such articles as SEEM
ed most needful, she set out on her lonely
walk.
The door Of the hut was ajar. The one
room was empty. In her charitable visit
ing In Boston similar experience had
often confronted her, and now, as then, an
involuntary vexation arose ct having been
made the dupe Of her sympathies. She
made her way to the next hut; but, to her
surprise, it, too, was empty. The village
was deserted.
The last hut stood ON the brow of an in
cline. In the hollow beyond was strange
sight,
Shrinking back into the shadow Of the
hut, petrifled with horror, she stood watch
ing a circle of savage figures, men and
women alternating, holding one another
by the hand, revolving slowly around a
large tree. A dirgelike chant filed the air
as round and round the dancers went In
the same direction, with eyes closed and
heads bente toward the ground. There
were young men in the circle. Had they
returned, then, from their hunting ex-
pedition?'
Chained to the spot by the mystic spell
Of the "ghost Dance" her own body sway
ed to and fro in unison with the dancers.
One figure seemed to exercise partic-
ular fascination over her. It was that Of
a young brave, naked to the hips and with
streaks Of red and yellow paint across his
breast Darkness had long ago fallen, and
fires were cleaning in the hollow. By
and by one after another of tho dancers
fell forward on his face, but the circle was
instantly reformed. Tho young brave who
had held her gaze was PROSTATE at last, in
the kind Of swoon to which the others had
succumbed.
Suddenly he leaped to his feet.
II have seen the great father, he cried,
land he will not talk to me because have
married white woman
1t was the voice Of her husbandl
Half frozen, blinded and staggering, she
reached her own door at last She must
have wandered many times from the path,
for the cold, gray morning light was break