The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-03-29
ID in the girls veins? Must only

blood in the girls veins? Must only
the white mans blood be reckoned
when they made up their daily ac-
count and balanced the books OF
their lives, creditor and debtor-mis-
understanding and kind act, neglect
and tenderness, reproof and praise,
gentleness and impulse. anger and
caress-to be set down in the ever
lasting record? Why must the In
dian always give way? Indian habits,
Indian desires, the Indian way of do
ing things, the Indian point of view,
Indian food, Indian mediCine-'was it
all bad, and only that which belong
ed to the white life good?
Look at your face in the glass,
Pauline" she added at last. You are
good looking, but 1t isn't the good
looks of the whites. The lodge OF
cheftainess is the place for you,
There you would have praise and
honor; among the whites you are
only a ha,f-breed. What is the good?
Let us go back to the life out there
beyond the Muskwat River-up be-
| yond. There is hunting still, little,
and the world is quiet, and nothing
troubles. Only the wld-dog barks at
night, or the wolf shifts at the door,
and all day there is singing. Some
where out beyond the Muskwat the
| feasts go on, and the old men build
the great fires, and ten tales, and
call the wind out of the North, and
make the thunder speak; and the
young men ride to the hunt or go
out TO battle, and build lodges for
the daughters of the tribe; and there
each man has his woman, and each
woman has in her breast the honor
OF the tribe, and the little ones fill
the lodge with laughter Like a pock-
ct Of deerskin is every house, warm
and small and full of good things.
Hai-yai, what is this life to that!
There you will be head and chief
of all, for there is money enough
for thousand horses; and your
are the days when white man
rules. Like clouds before the sun
are the races Of men, and one race
rises and another falls. Here you are
not first. but last; and the child of
the white father and mother, though
they be as the dirt that flies from
horses heels, 1t is before you. Your
mother is Blackfoot!
AS the woman spoke slowly and
with many pauses, the girls mood
changed, and there came into her
eyes strange, dark look which was
deeper than anger. She listened with
a sudden patience which stilled the
agitation in her breast and gave a
little touch Of rigidity to her figure.
Her eyes withdrew from the wild
storm without and gravely settled
on her mothers face, and with the
Indian woman's last words under
standing pierced, but did not dispel,
the somber and ominous look in her
eyes.
There was silence for a moment,
and then she spoke, almost as evenly
as her mother had done.
Il will tell you everything. You
are my mother, and | love you; but
you will not see the truth. When my
father took you from the lodges and
brought you here, it was the end of
the Indian life. 1t was for you to go
on with him, but you would not
go was young, but | saw, and |
said that in all things / would go
with him. | did not know that it
would be hard, but at school, at
the very first, l began to under
stand. There was only one, a French
girl loved her-a girl who said to
me: You are as white as ! am-as
anyone-and your heart is the same,
and you are beautiful Yes, Manette
said | was beautiful"
She paused a moment, misty
far-away look came into her eyes.
her fingers clasped and unclasped,
and she added
And her brother, Julien-he was
older-when he came to visit Ma.
nette, he spoke to me as if | were
all white, and was good to me. /
have never forgotten, never. 1t was
five years ago, but I remember him.
He was tall and strong, and as good
as Manette-as good as Manette. I
loved Manette, but she suffered for
me, for l was not like others, and
my ways were different-then. had
lived UP there on the Warals among
the lodges, and / had not seen things
only from my father, and he did
go much in an Indian Way So was