the peace-pipe
was brought out and passed around.

Presently Lo-as-ro began to speak. The magnificent voice rolled out in
tones like a cathedral organ, explaining how the American Indian was
to assume his rightful place in a world of his own. It was a vivid
picture, painted by an orator equal to any of the almost legendary
Indian speakers, and they don't come any better.

Unfortunately I was the only one present who could understand him.

* * * * *

When it was over and Lo-as-ro was smiling in confident expectation of
their gratified excitement, Johnny Armin gave me a baffled glance.
"What the hell was _that_ all about, Sam?"

I said, "You guys don't know how lucky you are. The chief, here, is
going to fix it up for you to go back to the good old days. Be noble
red men. No more taxes, no more taxis. Live out in the fresh air,
sleep under the star-studded sky, drink the unchlorinated spring
water."

"_What!_"

"You heard me. And he can do it, too. He's got the tools to flatten
the country."

They stared at me and at each other, horror and anger hardening their
faces. Lo-as-ro had stopped smiling and was glancing about the circle
in obvious bewilderment.

"You mean he's doing all that for _us_?" Storm demanded.

"For all Indians," I said. "Free them from the iron heel of the
oppressor, and all that."

"Nuts, brother!" Iron Eagle snapped. "Tell him I'm a graduate of
Carnegie Tech, make twenty-five grand a year with Standard Oil, and
vote the Republican ticket. If he thinks for a goddam minute I'm going
to chasing around on a pinto pony hunting buffalo, he's got rocks in
his head!"

"And that goes for me--double!" Lone Pine growled. "I never heard
anything so screwy!"

I repeated what they had said, putting it into words Lo-as-ro could
understand. He had the look of a man who couldn't believe his ears.
"They speak with stupid tongues," he cried. "Do they deny the blood of
their fathers?"

"They live as they want to live, noble chief," I said. "They are
grateful for your wish to help but they ask me to decline the offer."

He came to his feet with a bound, his lean face hardening into a
copper mask of anger. "These are not true Orbiwah!" he thundered.
"These are as women, soft with idleness and pleasure, weakened by
their white conquerors. The land is not for them; it is for those
forced to live in degradation and squalor, dying of hunger and
disease, ignored by the white