in of gold in their death; stood the
little pines seeded by the wind, nursed by the shade of the quick
growing trees. Who would be living and loving and fighting and hating
and winning and losing when these little fellows rose to toss and
flaunt their victory in the face of the sky? Was that the meaning of
life after all, the strength and thew, the valor and might of the fight
up? Then, it was not such a bad way with the Nation. The Nation would
be the better for this fight. Certain, it was, the better side would
win. Would it be the few like the sugar pine towering over its
fellows; or the many like the lodge pole pine and englemann spruce
standing in serried ranks of equal valor and power?

And if you think he could take that ride without wishing to the "nth"
degree that she could be with him to share the joy, then, I assure you,
you don't know to what music those gay, twinkling, trembling gold
leaves above the _Brule_ were beating time all night to the whisper of
the wind and rustle of the pixy parachutes sailing mid-air.

CHAPTER XXV

THE QUESTION IS--WHICH UNCLE SAM?

Before, it had been a race-reverie; a waiting, puzzled and uncertain
for the ways of life. Now, it was the joy of life, the fulfilment for
which life had been created and waited expectant; and whether the ways
were any plainer in the new light, there was no room for wonder in the
fulness of joy. Eleanor was glad the little bundle of tawdry loquacity
toddling between them kept up a constant stream of idle boastings on
the road to the Mission House, about being "waal-thy" and "Faather
shure bein' a gen'leman when they were waal-thy" and "herself as foine
as eny loidy in th' land," and more and more of the same, all the way
down the Ridge Trail; which was not so fatuous as it sounded, when it
voiced the convictions of a great many more people than the little
unwashed garlicky Shanty Town dancer. Eleanor wondered if the same
arguments applied to the culture of horses and pigs and potatoes--size
instead of sort, fulness of stomach not quality of head, area of
possession not area of service.

The garrulous babble continued to the very doors of the Mission School,
and through the formalities of an absurdly formal introduction to Mrs.
Williams, and during the suppertime meal with the little Indian
children in the big dining room. Eleanor noticed how Lizzie's lips
pursed with contempt at the other children and the little stomach poked
out