THE BATTLE WITH THE WEEDS

Between the planting and the reaping lay the sun-smitten summer-time and

a battle with the weeds! It was a period demanding patience and

understanding in Curtis, for as the first flush of enthusiasm over the

sowing died away, apathy and indifference sprang up naturally as

thistles. These childlike souls said: "Behold we have done our part, now

let Mother Earth and the Father Sun bring forth the harvest. We cannot

ripen the grain; we can only wait. Besides, we are weary."

To them harvest should follow seeding without further effort. They were

like boys wearied with waiting for the trees to grow. The seed and the

apple were too far apart. Curtis, understanding this lack of training in

their lives, did not allow himself to express the impatience he

sometimes felt. He told them that the new life they were to lead

involved constant care, but care would bring a reward. "In the old days

when you hunted, these things were not so." He also made honorable

examples of men like Two Horns and Crane's Voice, who kept their gardens

clean of all noxious plants.

He organized mimic war-parties. "To-day," he said, "the warriors of Elk

will go forth with me against these evil ones, the weeds. Each man will

be armed with a bright hoe. Elk, old as he is, will lead, and I will go

by his side. We will work busily till the sun has climbed half-way to

his hill; then we will smoke."

His knowledge of their needs, their habits, their modes of thinking,

made all that he did successful. He allowed the women to bring cool

drinks, flavored with herbs, and to build little bowers to shade their

sons and husbands from the fierce sun while they rested. There was

grumbling, there was envy, naturally, but less than he expected.

On the first day of July he was confident of a big crop, and wrote to

Elsie, saying: "The potatoes are in bloom, the wheat is waving in the

wind like a green sea. I am waiting."

To this she replied: "Papa's mind turns to the mountains these hot days,

and so we are coming; also my heart yearns for a certain soldier in the

West--a commander of shining hoes and a leader of destructive red

ploughmen. I ought, for my own peace and comfort, to forget this

singular creature; but, alas! I cannot. My perplexity grows daily. I

long to see him, yet I am afraid!"

These words made him tireless and of Job-like patience. "You need not

wait till the harvest is ended," he wrote, in reply. "Come and watch the

grain ripen, so that you will be garmented duly and ready for the feast.

Moreover, we will snatch so many more days of joy out of the maw of

devouring time."

To this she answered: "Your expressed reasons are not overwhelming, but

as the sun is scorching now, we leave soon. We will reach Pinon City in

about ten days. Father is quite well, but restless with the heat. I am

well, but restless, for other reasons. I don't see that the problem of

our lives is any nearer solution, do you? What can I do? What can you

do? Is there any common ground?"

"There are no problems now that you are coming," he replied.

It was with a deep surprise and joy that she found herself trembling

before each of his letters. All the old-time ecstasy and breathless

passion of her girlhood came back to her, but enlarged, and based

deeper, a woman's care and introspection giving it greater significance

and power.

The next day after Elsie's definite promise Curtis rode over to the

first camp and called the people round him and said:

"Next week we will hold our feast to give thanks for the good things the

earth has given to us, and after we have councilled together we will

feast and have a dance. Let everything be in order. Come in your finest

dress. Let every garment be as it was of old. Let the young girls be

very beautiful in whitened buckskin and beads. I do not despise your

old-time dress; I like it. Hereafter, when you work you will need to

wear white man's clothes, for they are more comfortable; but when you

wish to have a good time, then your old dress will be pleasant. I do not

ask you to forget the old time. It is past, but it is sweet to you. I

want you to be happy, for I am happy."

The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop · 第 176 / 183 题