The Coolidge examiner., 1931-11-06

Like a fury Sabra advanced to
the table, snatched up the round
button of soft green.
"Peyote!" She whirled on Gin.
what are you doing with this
thing?"
Gins eyes cast down sullenly
His hands in his pockets, he leaned
against the wall, very limp, very
bored, very infuriating and inso-
lent.
Ruby was just teaching me one
of the Mescal ceremony songs
Darned interesting. It's the last
song. They sing it at sunrise when
they're just about all in. Goes like
this
To Sabra's horror he began an
eerie song as he stood there lean
ing against the kitchen wall. his
eyes half closed.
stop it" screamed Sabra. With
the gesture of tragedy queen she
motioned him out of the kitchen. He
obeyed with very bad grace, his
going more annoying, in its man
ner, than his staying Sabra fol-
lowed him, silently. Suddenly she
realized she hated his walk. and
knew why. He walked with queer
little springing gait, on the very
sOles of his feet. II came over her
that ii always had annoyed her.
She remembered that some one had
laughingly told her what Pete
Pitchlyn, the old Indian scout,
lounging on his street corner. had
said about young Gin:
Every time | see that young
CimarrOn Cravat a-cOmin' down the
street | expect to hear a twig snap.
Walks like a story-book Injun."
In the privacy of the sitting
room Sabra confronted her son, the
bit of peyote still crushed in her
hand.
$50 you've come to this I'm
ashamed of yOu!"
Come to what?"
She opened her hand to show the
button of pulpy green crushed in
her palm. "PeyOte. A son of mine.
I'd rather see you dead"
"Oh, for heavens sake, nom
don't get Biblical. like dad. To hear
you person would think you'd
found me drugged in a Chinese
opium den"
81 think I'd almost rather"
Its nothing but a miserable lit
tie piece of cactus. And what was
doing but sitting in the kitchen
listening TO Ruby tell how her ia
ther-"
II should think a man of almost
eighteen could find something bet
ter to do than sit in a kitchen in
the middle of the day talking to an
Indian girl. Where's your pride !"
Gins eyes were still cast down.
He still lounged insolently. his
hands in his pockets. How about
these stories you've told me all
your life about the love you south
erners had for your servants and
how old Angie was like a second
mother to you?"
They were different. They knew
their place"
He raised the heavy eyelidS then
and lifted his fine head with the
menacing look that she knew so
well in his father. You're right.
They are different. In the first
place. Ruby isn't an Indian hired
girl. She is the daughter of an
Usage chief"
Dosage fiddlesticks What of it,"
RUBY Big Elk is just as i'm
portant a person in the Usage ma
ton as Alice Roosevelt is in Wash
ington."
Now, listen here, Cimarron Cra-
vat! I've heard about enough. A
lot of dirty Indians Just you
march yourself down to the Wig
wan office, young man. and don't
you ever again let me catch you
talking in that disrespectful man
ner about the daughter of the Pres
ident of the United States. And if
| ever hear that you've eaten a
bite of this miserable stuff"-she
held out her hand, shaking little,
the mescal button crushed in her
palm-"Til have your father thrash
you within an inch of your life, big
as you are. AS 1t is. he shall hear
of this
But Yancey, N being told, only
looked thoughtful and a little sad.
Its your own fault, Sabra. You'i ;
bound that the boy shall live the
life you've planned for him instead
of the one he wants. So he's trying
to escape into a dream life. Like
the Indians. It's all the same
thing"
Il don't know what .ou're talk
ing about. | don't think you know.
either"
THE Indians started to eat pey-
Ote after the whites had taken their
religious and spiritual and decent
physical life away from them.
Man cannot live by bread alone.
He has got to have dreams, or life
is uncomfortable. SO the Indian
turned to the peyote. He finds
peace and comfort and beauty in
his dreams"
A horrible suspicion darted
through Sabra. "Yancey Cravat,
have you ever"
He nodded his magnificent head
slowly, sadly. MANY times. Many
times"