White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1931-09-17

plant. In shape disk about an inch
and half in diameter and a quarter
of an inch thick, the mescal or peyote
gave the eater strange feeling of
lightness, dispelled pain and fatigue,
caused visions Of marvellous beauty
and grandeur. The use Of it had be
come an Indian religious rite.
Like a fury Sabra advanced to the
table, snatched up tho little round but
ton Of soft green.
"Peyote!'' She whirled on CHM.
"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 insolent.
"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 leaning against
the kitchen wall, his eyes half closed.
"Stop It'll" 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 it's manner, than his
staying. Sabra followed him, silently.
Suddenly she realized she hated his
walk, and knew why. He walked with
queer little springing gait, on the
IL 90 M nyTnr
her that it 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 I see that young Cimar-
ron Cravat a-comin' down the street
expect to hear twig snap. Walks
like 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'll"
"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"
ooh, for heavens sake, nom, don't
get Biblical, like dad. To hear you a
person would think you'd found me
drugged in Chinese opium den.'
II think I'd almost rather"
cts nothing but miserable little
piece Of cactus. And what was do
ing but sitting in the kitchen listening
to Ruby tell how her father"
II should think a man of almost
eighteen could find something better
to do than sit in kitchen in the
middle of the day talking to an In
dian girl. Where's your pride!"
Gins eyes were still cast down. He
still lounged insolently, his hands in
his pockets. Elbow about these stories
you've told me all your life about the
love you southerners had for your
servants and how old Angie was like
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 important
a person in the Usage nation as Alice
Roosevelt is in Washington"
"Now, listen here, Cimarron Cravat
I've heard about enough. A lot of dirty
Indians! Just you march yourself
down to the Wigwam Office, young
man, and don't you ever again let me
catch you talking in that disrespectful
manner about the daughter of the
President of the United States. And
if ever hear that you've eaten bite
of this miserable stuff" she held out
her hand, shaking little, the mescal
button crushed in her palm-"Tll have
your father thrash you within an inch
Of your life, big as you are. AS it is,
he shall hear Of this"
But Yancey, on being told, only
looked thoughtful and a little sad.
"Its your own fault, Sabra. You're
bound that the boy shall live the life
you've planned for him instead Of the
one he wants. So he's trying to es-
cape into dream life. Like the In
dams. It's all the same thing"
II don't know what you're talking
about. I don't think you know, either"
"The Indians started to eat peyote
after the whites had taken their re-
'ligious and spiritual and decent physi-
cal life away from them. Man can
not 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