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NEVER SHALL AN APACHE MATE WITH A PUEBLO
his strong arms to the doctor's house and laid her upon the queer, white, soft thing that the weakly palefaces sleep upon. Opening sick eyes, after eons of travel in black, terrible, far spaces, Natoma saw bending above her the loveliest face she had ever seen — lovely, not as Apache women, but frail and pale, with sky-eyes and sun-hair. And in her heart the desert girl enshrined the face beside her dream of the Great Spirit, God. Yet — such is the way of the Indian with the white man — she could not tell of her worship, unless dark eyes and brown, tender fingertips confessed it.
With Mon-a-tu, her lover, it was different. The bird may speak with the bird, where it cannot understand the butterflies.
"Desired One," he pleaded, "how many moons must I sigh away alone ? The bright snake has his burrow, the brown, shy wood-dove his mate, yet I am heartless. How long ere I may join my life to thine, 0 long Desired One?"
"My father, the chief," she shud
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dered in answer. "He is tall and terrible. He hates the wall-dwellers, and he has many warriors in his tents, with arrows in their quivers and swift ponies in their corral. I dare not marry without his consent, and never will he give it to thee, 0 my brave. ' '
"The squaw of the white medicine man is wise," counseled Mon-a-tu. "Let us take our severed hearts and twin longings to her."
A woman, red or brown or white as her skin may be, is ever a friend of love and lovers. And it was not long before the doctor's wife had a wedding arranged. The town, she said, was far from the old chief's tents; he would never know. But, my brothers, if all went well here on earth, there would be no need of a Happy Hunting Ground. Before the words could be said that would join Natoma to Mon-a-tu until the stars should fade and the earth dissolve, a dread figure burst like a lightningstroke into the peace of the assemblyroom.
"Dog of a Pueblo!" cried Old