Early on the morning of the great day--before the dawn, in truth--the
Tetongs came riding in over the hills from every quarter of the earth,
bringing their finest clothing, their newest blankets, and their whitest
tepees, all lashed on long poles between which the patient ponies walked
as in the olden time. Every man, woman, and child able to sit a horse
was mounted. No one wore a white man's hat or shoes or vest; all were in
leggings and moccasins, fringed and painted, and they carried their
summer blankets as they once carried their robes of the buffalo-skin.
Even the boys of six and seven wore suits cunningly fashioned and
decorated like those of their elders. The young warriors, painted, and
with fluttering feathers, rode their fleetest ponies, with shoulders
bare and gleaming like bronze in the sun.
With all due form, without hurry or jostling, the whole tribe camped in
a wide ellipse, each clan in its place, each family having a fixed
position in the circle. The tepees rose like magic, and their threads of
smoke began to creep up into the clear sky like mysterious plants,
slender and wavering.
Greetings passed from camp to camp, the head men met in council, and, as
the sun rose higher, swarms of the young men galloped to and fro,
laying out a racing-course and making up for a procession under Wilson's
direction.
Curtis said: "I am not interdicting any of their customs merely because
they belong to their old life, but because some of them are coarse or
hurtful. Their dance is not harmful unless protracted to the point of
interfering with their work. That they are all living somewhat in the
past, to-day, is true; but they will put away this finery and go to work
with me to-morrow. To cut them off from all amusement is cruel
fanaticism. No people can endure without amusement."
"How appropriate their gay colors seem in this hot, dun land!" remarked
Elsie. "They would look gaudy in a studio; but out here they are
grateful to the sense."
In the centre of the wide circle of tepees a huge bower of pines was
being erected for the dance, and pulsing through the air the voice of
the criers could be heard, as they rode slowly round the circle
publishing the programme of the day.
"Looking over the camp towards the hills it is not difficult to imagine
one's self back in the old days," said Maynard. "I saw Sitting Bull
camped like this. See, here is the 'Soldier Lodge' or chief's
headquarters," and he pointed to a large, handsome tepee set in one of
the foci of the big ellipse.
Everywhere they went Curtis and his friends met with hearty greeting.
"Hoh--hoh! The Little Father!" the old men cried, and came to shake
hands, and the women smiled, looking up from their work. The little
children, though they ran away at first, came out again when they knew
that it was the Captain who called. Jennie gave hints about the cooking,
and praised the neat tepees and the pretty dresses, while Elsie, looking
upon it all with reflective eyes, could not help thinking, "Such will be
my work if I do my duty as a wife."
Once she looked at the firm, bold, facial outlines of the man she had
learned to love, and snuggled a little closer into his shelter; he would
toil to make every hardship light, that was certain; but, oh! the dreary
winters! There were moments when she took to herself a part of the love
and obedience this people showed Curtis. Here was a little kingdom over
which Curtis reigned, a despotic monarch, and she, if she did her duty,
would reign by his side. It had, at least, the virtue of being an
unconventional self-sacrifice. And then, again, she smiled to think that
Elsie Bee Bee should feel a touch of pride in being the wife of an
Indian agent!
Driving his guests back to the agency, Curtis returned to the camp and
moved about on foot among his people. Wherever he went he seemed to give
zest to the sports, and knowing this he remained with them till noon,
and only came in to rest his weary feet and aching eyes for half an hour
before lunch.
It was unutterably sweet to stretch out in his big, battered easy-chair,
in the shaded coolness of the library, and feel Elsie's smooth, light
hand in his hair.
"And you are never to leave me," he said, dreamily. "I can't realize it
yet." After a pause he added: "I am demanding too much of you,
sweetheart."
"You are demanding nothing, sir; if you did you wouldn't get it. If I
choose to _give_ you anything, you are to be grateful and discreetly
silent."
"Can't I say, 'Thank you'?"
"Not a word."
"I am content," he said, and closed his eyes again to express it, and
she, being unasked, bent and kissed his forehead.
Rousing up a few minutes later, he said, "I have a present in keeping
for you."
"Have you? What is it? Is it from you? Why didn't you let me see it
before?"
He rose and opened a closet door. "Because the proper time had not come.
Before I show it to you I want you to promise to wear it."
"I promise," she instantly replied.
"Don't be so ready; I intend it to be a symbol of your change of heart."
"Well, then, I don't promise," she said, backing away.
"I don't mean your change of heart towards me; I have a ring to express
that; this is to express your change of heart towards--"
"Towards Injuns?"
"No; towards all 'the small peoples of the earth.'"
"Well, then, I can't wear it; I haven't changed. Down with them!" she
shouted, in smiling bravado.
He closed the door. "Very well, then, you shall not even see the
present; you are not worthy of it."
"Oh, please! please! I'll forgive all the heathens of Africa, if you
will only let me see."
"I don't believe I like that, either," he replied. "You are now too
flippant. However, I'll hold you to the word. If you don't mean it now
you will by-and-by."
Elsie clapped her hands with girlish delight as he held up a fine
buckskin dress, beautifully adorned with beads and quills. It was
exquisitely tanned, as soft as silk, and a deep cream color.
"Isn't it lovely! I'll wear it whether my heart is changed or not."
"Here are the leggings and moccasins to match."