The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-08-28
CHAPTER XI-Continued
-16-..-

Big Elk'S house. They built 1t there,
when he was chief, and they still use
1t regularly for the ceremony. Yam
sey showed it to me once, when he
drove me out here" She stopped and
cleared her throat, for her voice was
suddenly husky. She wondered, con-
fusedly, If that sound was the drum or
her own heart beating She gave a
little cracked laugh that bordered on
hysteria. "a drum in the night. 1t
sounds so terrible. SO savage"
Sol Levy now took the reins from
her shaking fingers. "There is moth
ing to be frightened about. A lot OF
poor ignorant Indians trying to forget
their misery. Come" Perhaps no
man ever made a more courageous
gesture, for the little sensitive Jew
was terribly frightened.
Uncertainty, in the blackness, they
made their way toward the drum beat.
Nearer and nearer, louder and louder
And yet all about, darkness, silence.
Only that pulsing cry and rattle and
beat pounding through the night like
the tide. What II he is not there?
thought Sabra.
Sol Levy pulled up in the roadway
before the trampled yard that held the
Mescal tepee, round, to typify the
sun, built of wood, larger than any
other building on the reservation. The
horses were frightened, FESTIVE. All
about in the blackness you heard the
stamp Of other horses hoofs, heard
them crunching the dried heritage of
The autumn prairie. With difficulty he
CROPPED his way to stump that served
MS hitching post, and tied the horses. AS
he helped Sabra down her knees sud-
denly bent, and he caught her as she
sank. ooh! It's all right. Stiff, I
guess-from the ride" She leaned
against him a moment, then straight
ened determinedly. He took her arm
firmly. Together they made their way
toward the tent-shaped wooden tepee.
Two great silent blanketed figures
at the door through which the fitful
flame Of the sacred fire flared. The
figures did not speak. They stood
there. barring the way. The little Jew
felt Sabra's arm trembling in his hand.
He peered up into the face Of the
silent, immobile figures.
Suddenly. "Hello, joel" He turned
to Sabra. "It's Joe Yellow Eyes. He
was in the store only yesterday. Say,
Joe, the lady here-Mrs. Cravat-she
wants her son should come out and
go home"
The blanketed figure stood silent.
Suddenly Sabra thought. "This is
ridiculous"
She loosed her arm. She took a
step forward, her profile sharp and
clear in the freight. Il am the wom-
an of Yancey Cravat, the one you call
Buffalo Head. If my son is in there
I want to take him home now. 1t is
time"
"Sure take UNI home," replied the
Indian that Sol had addressed as Joe
Yellow Eyes He stood aside. Blink
ing, stumbling a little, Sol and Sabra
entered the crowded Mescal tepee.
The ceremony was almost at an
end. With daybreak it would be fin
ished. Blinded by the light, Sabra at
first could discern nothing except the
central fire and the figure crouched
before it. Yet her eyes went this way
and that, searching for him. Grad
ually her vision cleared. The figures
within the tepee paid no attention to
those two white intruders. They stood
there in the doorway, bewildered. terri
fled, brave.
In the center crescent of earth
about six inches high curved around a
fire built of sticks so arranged that as
the ashes fell they formed a second
crescent within the other. A man
squatted, tending this fire, watchfully,
absorbedly. In the center of the cres-
cent, upon a little star of sage twigs,
lay the mescal, symbol of the rite.
Facing them was the chief, old Stump
Horn, in the place Of honor, the en-
blems of office in his hands-the rat
tie, the wand, the fan Of eagle plumes.
All ABOUT Tie lcpcet CrUuCIeu OF lay
blanketed motionless figures. Some
sat with heads bowed, others gazed
fixedly upon the central mescal but
ton. All had been eating the mescal
or drinking a brew in which it had
STEPPED. Now and then a figure would
slowly draw the blanket over his head
and sink back to receive the vision.
And the song went on. the shaking of
the gourd rattle, the beat-beat of the
buckskin drum. The air of the room
was sitting, the room itself scrupulous-
ly clean.
At intervals around the wall, and
almost level with the dirt floor, were
apertures perhaps sixteen inches
square. A little wooden door was shut
upon most of these. Near each Law
figures limper, more spent even than
the other inert bodies. AS Sabra and
Sol stood, blinking, they learned the
use Of these openings. For suddenly
nausea overcame one of the Indians
crouched in the semicircle near the
flame. The man crawled swiftly to
one Of the little doors, opened it,
thrust his head and shoulders out into