the heritage of the sioux-第34节

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and　reached　for　his　cigarette　papers　and　tobacco。



〃How？〃　replied　the　Navajo；　a　flicker　of　interest　in　his　eyes　at　these　little

Indian　touches　in　Luck's　manner；　and　sat　himself　down　cross…legged　on　the　hot

sand。　Luck　rolled　a　cigarette　and　passed　the　〃makings〃　to　the　other；　who

received　it　gravely　and　proceeded　to　help　himself。　luck　scratched　a　match　on　a

stone　that　lay　beside　him；　lighted　the　Indian's　cigarette　and　then　his　own；

took　four　puffs　and　blew　the　smoke　upward；　watching　it　spread　and　drift　away；

and　made　the　gesture　that　meant　〃Our　pow…wow　will　be　good；〃　as　he　had　seen　the

Sioux　medicine　men　do　before　a　council。　Afterwards　he　began　placidly　to　smoke

and　meditate。



From　his　manner　you　would　never　have　guessed　that　his　life　and　the　lives　of

the　Happy　Family　hung　upon　the　outcome　of　this　meeting。　You　would　not　have

surmised　that　his　stomach　was　gnawing　at　his　nerves；　sending　out　insistently

the　call　for　food；　or　that　his　thirst　tormented　him；　or　that　the　combination

of　hunger；　heat；　thirst　and　mental　strain　had　bred　a　jumping　headache　that　was

knotting　the　veins　in　his　temples。　All　these　nagging　miseries　beset　himbut

he　knew　the　ways　of　the　Indians　and　he　meant　to　impress　this　old　man　first　of

all　with　his　plains…Indian　training；　so　he　schooled　himself　to　patience。



The　Indian　eyed　him　furtively　from　under　heavy　eyebrows　while　he　smoked。　And

the　sun　beat　savagely　down　upon　the　sand　of　that　basin；　and　Luck's　vision

blurred　with　the　pain　that　throbbed　behind　his　eyes。　But　the　facial　discipline

of　the　actor　was　his　to　command；　and　he　permitted　his　face　to　give　no　sign　of

what　he　felt　or　thought。



The　Indian　leaned　slowly；　lifted　a　brown　hand；　made　a　studied　gesture　or　two

and　waited；　his　eyes　fixed　unwinkingly　upon　Luck。　It　was　as　if　he　were　saying

to　himself：　〃We'll　see　if　this　white　man　can　speak　in　the　sign…talk　of　the

Indians。〃



Luck　lifted　his　two　hands；　drew　them　slowly　apart　to　say　that　he　had　come　a

long　way。　Then；　using　only　his　handssometimes　his　fingers　onlyhe　began　to

talk；　to　tell　the　old　Navajo　that　he　and　eight　other　white　men　were　sheriffs

and　that　they　were　chasing　four　white　men　（since　he　had　no　sign　that　meant

Mexican）　who　had　stolen　money；　that　they　had　come　from　Albuquerqueand　there

he　began　to　draw　in　the　sand　between　them　a　crude　but　thoroughly

understandable　sketch　of　the　trail　they　had　taken　and　the　camps　they　had　made；

and　the　distance　they　believed　the　four　thieves　had　travelled　ahead　of　them。



He　marked　the　camp　where　their　horses　had　been　stolen　from　them　and　told　how

long　they　had　waited　there　until　the　horses　of　their　own　accord　returned　to

camp；　thirteen　horses；　he　explained　to　the　old　Navajo。　He　drew　a　rough　square

to　indicate　the　square　butte；　sketched　the　fork　of　the　trail　there　and　told

how　four　men　had　turned　to　the　north　on　a　false　trail；　while　he　and　four

others　had　gone　around　the　southern　end　of　the　hill。　He　calmly　made　plain　that

at　the　end　of　both　false　trails　a　trap　had　been　laid；　that　Indians　had　fired

upon　white　men　and　for　no　just　cause。　Why　was　this　go？　Why　had　Indians

surrounded　them　back　there　in　the　grove　and　tried　to　kill　them？　Why　were

Indians　shooting　at　them　from　the　ledge　of　rocks　that　circled　this　little

basin？　They　had　no　quarrel　with　the　Navajos。　They　were　chasing　thieves；　to

take　them　to　jail。



Folded　swelteringly　in　his　red　blanket　the　old　Indian　sat　humped　forward　a

little；　smoking　slowly　his　cigarette　and　studying　the　sketch　Luck　had　drawn

for　him。　With　aching　head　and　parched　throat　and　hungry　stomach；　Luck　sat

cross…　legged　on　the　hot　sand　and　waited；　and　would　not　let　his　face　betray

any　emotion　at　all。　Up　on　the　Tim…rock　brown　faces　peered　down　steadfastly　at

the　pow…wow。　And　back　among　the　rocks　and　bushes　the　Happy　Family　waited

restively　with　eyes　turning　in　all　directions　guarding　against　treachery；　and

Lite；　whose　bullets　always　went　straight　to　the　spot　where　they　were　aimed；

stood　and　stared　fixedly　over　his　rifle　sights　at　the　red…blanketed　figure

squatted　in　the　sand　and　kept　his　finger　crooked　upon　the　trigger。　Beside　him

Applehead　fidgeted　and　grumbled　and　called　Luck　names　for　being　so　dang　slow；

and　wondered　if　those　two　out　there　meant　to　sit　and　chew　the　rag　all　day。



The　Indian　leaned　and　traced　Luck's　trail　slowly　with　his　finger。　Did　the　four

white　men　come　that　way？　he　asked　in　sign。　And　then；　had　Luck　seen　them？　Was

be　sure　that　he　was　following　the　four　who　had　stolen　money　in　Albuquerque？



Come　to　think　of　it；　Luck　was　not　sure　to　the　point　of　being　able　to　take　oath

that　it　was　so。　He　traced　again　where　the　hoofprints　had　been　discovered　near

the　stalled　automobile；　and　signed　that　the　six　horses　they　believed　to　have

belonged　to　the　four　who　had　taken　two　horses　packed　with　food　and　blankets

and　the　stolen　money。



Then　suddenly　Luck　remembered　that；　for　proof　of　his　story；　he　had　a　page　of

the　Evening　Herald　in　his　pocket；　torn　from　a　copy　he　had　bought　on　the

streets　the　evening　after　the　robbery。　He　pulled　the　folded　paper　out；　spread

it　before　the　other　and　pointed　to　the　article　that　told　of　the　robbery。　〃Call

some　young　man　of　your　tribe　who　can　read；〃　he　signed。　〃Let　him　read　and　tell

you　if　I　have　spoken　the　truth。〃



The　Indian　took　the　paper　and　looked　at　it　curiously。



Now；　unless　Applehead　or　some　other　hot…head　spoiled　things；　Luck　believed

that　things　would　smooth　down　beautifully。　There　had　been　some

misunderstanding；　evidentlyelse　the　Indiana　would　never　have　manifested　all

this　old…fashioned　hostility。



The　blanketed　one　showed　himself　a　true　diplomat。　〃Call　one　of　your　white　men；

that　there　may　be　two　and　two；〃　he　gestured。　And　he　added；　with　the　first

words　he　had　spoken　since　they　met；　〃Hablo　espanol？〃



Well；　if　he　spoke　Spanish；　thought　Luck；　why　the　deuce　hadn't　he　done　it　at

first？　But　there　is　no　fathoming　the　reticence　of　an　Indianand　Luck；　by　a

sudden　impulse；　hid　his　own　knowledge　of　the　language。　He　stood　up　and　turned

toward　the　rocks；　cupped　his　hands　around　his　lips　and　called　for　the　Native

Son。　〃And　leave　your　rifle　at　home；〃　he　added　as　an　afterthought　and　in　the

interests　of　peace。



The　Indian　turned　to　the　rim…rock；　held　up　the　fragment　of　newspaper　and

called　for　one　whom　he　called　Juan。　Presently　Juan's　Stetson　appeared　above

the　ledge；　and　Juan　himself　scrambled　hastily　down　the　rift　and　came　to　them；

grinning　with　his　lips　and　showing　a　row　of　beautifully　even　teeth；　and　asking

suspicious　questions　with　his　black　eyes　that　shone　through　narrowed　lids。



Miguel；　arriving　just　then　from　the　opposite　direction；　sized　him　up　with　one

heavy…lashed　glance　and　nodded　negligently。　He　had　left　his　rifle　behind　him

as　he　had　been　told；　but　his　six…shooter　hung　inside　the　waistband　of　his

trousers　where　he　could　grip　it　with　a　single　drop　of　his　hand。　The　Native

Son；　lazy　as　he　looked；　was　not　taking　any　chances。



The　old　Indian　explained　in　Navajo　to　the　young　man　who　eyed　the　two　white　men

while；he　listened。　Of　the　blanket…vending；　depot…haunting　type　was　this　young

man；　with　a　ready　smile　and　a　quick　eye　for　a　bargain　and　a　smattering　of

English　learned　in　his　youth　at　a　mission；　and　a　larger　vocabulary　of　Mexican

that　lent　him　fluency　of　speech　when　the　mood　to　talk　was　on　him。　Half　of　his

hair　was　cut　so　that　it　hung　even　with　his　ear…lobes。　At　the　back　it　was　long

and　looped　up　in　the　way　a　horse's　tail　is　looped　in　muddy　weather；　and　tied

with　a　grimy　red　ribbon　wound　round　and　round　it。　He　wore　a　green…and…white

roughneck　sweater　broadly　striped；　and　the　blue　overalls　that　inevitably

follow　American　civilization　into　the　wild　places。



〃'S　hot　day；〃　he　announced　unemotionally；　and　took　the　paper　which　the

red…blanketed　one　held　out　to　him。　His　air　of　condescension　could　not　hide　the

fact　that　behind　his　pride　at　being　able　to　read　print　he　was　unhappily　aware

also　of　his　limitations　in　the　accomplishment。　Along　the　scare…head　Luck　had

indicated；　his　dirty　forefinger　moved　slowly　while　he　spelled　out　the　words。

〃A…a…bank　rob！〃　he　read　triumphantly；　and　repeated　the　statement　in　Spanish。

After　that　he　mumbled。　a　good　deal　of　it；　the　longer　words　arresting　his

finger　while　he　struggled　with　the　syllables。　But　he　got　the　sense　of　it

nevertheless；　as　Luck　and　Miguel　knew　by　the　version　he　gave　in　Spanish　to　the

old　Indian；　with　now　and　then　a　Navajo　word　to　help　out。



When　he　came　to　the　place　where　Ramon　Chavez　and　Luis　Rojas　were　named　as　the

thieves；　he　gavea　grunt　and　looked　up　at　Luck　and　Miguel；　read　in；　their　faces

that　these　were　the　men　they　sought；　and　grinned。



〃Me；　I　know　them　feller；〃　he　declared　unexpectedly。　〃Dat　day　I　seen　them

feller。　They　go〃



The　old　Indian　touched　him　on　the　shoulder；　and　Juan　turned　and　repeated　the

statement　in　Spanish。　The　old　man's　eyes　went　to　luck　understandingly；　while

he　asked　Juan　a　question　in　the　Navajo　tongue；　and　afterwards　gave　a　command。