The Washington herald., 1915-12-06

L ASH low, dUONC Gil ShSAN~~
w told him those of Indians
on the warpath were most interest
ing. There was an old settler Irving
near US who used to tell US three
scared but fascinated children mos,
marvellous tales of the days when Reo
Leggings' tribe of Senecas had
swooped down upon the little village
he had lived in and had tortured OF
destroyed the whole population over.
night. Jacks eyes grew as big and
round as saucers, while Lottie and
clung to each other, shivering with
terror because of the vivid realism
with which he would paint the
scenes.
! But it was after supper when the
lights were turned out we paid the
piper for the dance. I closed my eyes
SO tight they ached, but still l could
not shut out the bands of Indians
who came stealthily crawling into the
bedroom, carrying their bowieknive'
between their teeth and waving their
long, feathered helmets as they crepf
nearer and nearer to the bed.
1t was after we had gone on the
stage that our opportunity came to
travel on the road and 60 to the
West we children had pictured as
still overrun and made dangerous by
unfriendly Indians and rowing bands
of wild animals.
One of the other little boys in the
company had given Jack copy OF
Buffalo Bill" which we three read
with dilating eyes. When mother
caught us we rushed into her arms
and clung to her skirts, imploring her
not to take us West, where we were
sure to be tortured to death BY the
Indians. Nor would we listen to her
description of Mr.. Reservation In
dian, sleek, fat and as good ured
as our old Jersey cow. If Jack hadn't
promised faithfully to protect Lottie
and me in case of an Indian uprising,
we never would have had the cour-
age to survive the ordeal of packing.
Jack, being the man of the family
even at six, was a hero in our eyes.
The Indians of Reality.
Going through Arizona we saw our
first Indians, saw those poor unhappy
creatures eking out a meager exist
ence by making blankets and baskets.
They were dirty, cringing, but friend
ly enough at the sight of coin, and
the little papooses, strapped on their
mothers backs, were bright-eyed and
merry. There were no feathers, no
painted bodies, and, in spite of Jacks
earnest inquiries, no one had heard
of an Indian scalping a white man in
that neighborhood for the last fifty
years. So we set the Indians aside as
very commonplace, a stupid brown
people.
Several years later. when was
working for Mr.. Griffith in the old
American Biograph, we went to New
Mexico to take picture among the
Indians. 1t was midsummer and
when we reached the desert the heat
was overpowering. 1t was 40 de-
grees, and as fast as we put the
makeup on the grease paint would
melt and trickle down our checks in
little colored streams.
I was to play :he part of half
breed, and as Mr.. Griffith had stud
led the customs and characteristics of
the Indian we came prepared to make
picture which would live because of
its historical value.
The Indians arc very curious. When
We ventured out they followed us,
amused and interested. From long
range they watched us set up the
camera, afraid VIC might turn it upon
them any minute.
AS a half-brecd girl had darkcn-
ed my skin and because of my high
cheekbones and breadth across the
brows l deceived even the squaws,
who took me for half caste from
another tribe. The bucks walked
around me appraisingly, and express
cd their admiration by their broad,
shecpish grins. They seemed anxious
to please me and gave me little gifts