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


Then, "He Is dead" The boy lay
breathing quietly. All about the room
was an atmosphere of reverie, of
swooning bliss. If the Indians looked
at all at Sabra, at the Jew, at their
efforts to rouse the boy, it was with
the eyes of sleep-walkers. Their lips
were gently smiling. Sometimes they
swayed a little. The sacred fire
leaped orange and scarlet and gold.
Old Stump Horn welded his eagle
feather fan, back and forth, back and
forth. The quavering cadences Of the
Mescal song rose and fell to the ac-
compartment Of the gourd rattle and
the unceasing drum. The white man
and woman, frail both, tugged and
strained at the inert figure Of the boy.
"Oh, God" whimpered Sabra. Hes
so heavy. What shall we do?" They
bent again, tugged with all their
strength, lifted but could not carry
him.
"We must drag him." Sol said at
last.
cling. tugging, past those rapt still
forms, past those mazed smiling faces,
they struggled with him to the door.
The little beads of sweat stood out on
her forehead, on her lip. She breathed
In choking gasps Her eyes were wide
and staring and dreadful in their de-
termination. The rattle. The drum
beat. The high eerie song notes,
wordless.
The blackness of the outer air; past
the two towering motionless blanketed
figures at the door. Dragging him
along the earth, through the trampled
weeds.
"We can't lift him into the buggy.
We can't" She ran back to the two
at the door. She clasped her hands
before the one called Joe Yellow Eyes.
She lifted her white, agonized face
to him. "Help me. Help me-" She
made futile gesture Of lifting.
The Indian looked at her a moment
with dead, unseeing gaze. Flecks
of gold and yellow danced, reflected in
the black pools Of his eyes, and died
there. Leisurely. wordless, he walked
over to where the boy lay, picked him
up lightly in his great arms as though
he were sack of meal, swung him
into the buggy seat. He turned, then,
and went back to his place at the
door,
They drove back to the town Of
Usage. Gins body leaned heavily,
slackly against hers; his head lay in
her lap, like little boys. One ach-
ing arm she held firmly about him to
keep him from slipping to the floor
of the buggy. so that finally it ceased
to ache and became numb. The dawn
came, and then the sunrise over the
prairie, it's red meeting the red of the
Oklahoma earth, so that they drove
through a fiery furnace.
She had been quiet enough until now,
with a kind of stony quiet. She began
to sob; curious dry raclling sound,
like hiccough.
snow, now" said Sol Levy, and
made little comforting noise be-
tween tongue and teeth. $50 bad it
isn't. What did the boy do, he went
out to see the sights on the reserva-
ton ana try what 1t was like to eat
this dope stuff-this peyote. Say,
when was boy did lots worse"
She did not seem to pay much heed
to this, but 1t must have penetrated
her numbed brain at last, for present
" she stopped the painful sobbing and
looked down at his lovely smiling face
in her lap, the long lashes. like. a
girls. resting so fragilely on the olive
cheek.
"He wanted to so. wouldn't let
him. Is 1t too late, Sol?"
go? Go where"
"The Colorado school of mines.
Geology"
TOO late! That kid there! Don't
talk foolish. September. This is the
time to go. 1t just starts. Sure he'll
go"
They drove through the yard, over
Sabra's carefully tended grass, Of
which she was so proud, right to the
edge of the porch steps, and so, drag
ging again and pulling, they got him
in, undressed him; she washed his
dust-smeared face.
"Well," said Sol Levy. II guess 1
go and open the store and then have
a good cup Of coffee"
She put out her hand. Her lower
lip was caught between her teeth,
sharp and tight. Her face was dis
torted absurdly with her effort not to
cry, But when he would have patted
her grimed and trembling hand with
his own, in gesture of comforting,
she caught his hand to her lips and
kissed it.
The sound Of the horses hoofs died
away on the still morning air. She
looked down at CHM. She thought, l
will take bath, and then l will have
some coffee, too. Yancey has gone
again. Has left me. know that.
How do / know it? Well. nothing
more can happen to me now. have
had it all, and have borne it. Moth
ing more can happen to me now.
NuApTEp VII