Alfred Henry Lewis

“ Over across from the moody Gray Wolf, Bill Henry lounges in the wide doorway of Florer’s agency store. Bill Henry is young, about twenty-three, in truth. He has a quick, handsome face, with gray eyes that dance and gleam, and promise explosiveness of temper. The tan that darkens Bill Henry’s skin wherever the sun may get to it, and which is comparable to the color of a saddle or a law book, testifies that the vivacious Bill is no recent importation. Five full years on the plains would be needed to ripen one to that durable hue. ”

“ It is too quickly done for eye to follow. The Terror’s guard is opened by a feint; and next like a flash Mike’s left shoots cleanly in. There is a sharp “spank!” as the six-ounce glove finds the Terror’s jaw; that person goes down like an oak that is felled. As he falls, Mike’s right starts with a crash for the heart. But there is no need: Mike stops the full blow midway—a feat without a mate in boxing. The Terror lies as one without life.
“W’y didn’t you let ’im ’ave your right like you started, laddy?” screams the old Cockney, as Mike walks towards his corner. ”

“ The Indian’s is not a mobile face. In full expression it is capable only of apathy or rage. If your Indian would show you mirth or woe, he must eke out the dim and half-told story with streaks of paint. But so deep is the present sorrow of Gray Wolf that, even without the aid of graphic ochre, one reads some shadow of it in the wrinkled brows and brooding eyes.
What is this to so beat upon our dismal Osage? There is a dab of mud in his hair; his blanket is rags, and his moccasins are rusty and worn. These be weeds of mourning. Death has crept to the tepee of Gray Wolf and taken a prey. ”

“ The bill might be fashionable, not to say popular, with one body, while the other turned rigid back upon it. It might live in the House to die in the Senate, or succeed in the Senate and perish in the House. There were no safety and little hope to be won in any corner, and the lone certainty to peer forth upon Jim Britt was that the chances stood immeasurably against him wherever he turned his eyes. The camel for the needle’s eye and the rich man into heaven, were easy and feasible when laid side by side with the Congressional outlook for his bill. ”

“ As I say, I want you to plant yourself in the sheltering hollow of this buttonwood. You ought to have three rocks—say as big as a guinea’s egg—three stones, d’ye see, ’cause the race is heats, best three in five. You must lay dead so no one’ll get on. As Rupert and the Belle sweep ’round the curve for the stretch, you want to let ’em get a trifle past you. Then you’re to step out and nail Rupert—he’ll have the pole without a doubt—and nail Rupert, I say, with a rock. That’ll settle him; he’ll be up in the air like a swallow-bird. It’ll give the Belle the heat. ”

“ In my old simpler days, I well recall those defences of the pure gambler wherein my regard indulged. Elia once separated humanity into two tribes—those who borrow and those who lend. In my younger philosophy I also saw two septs: those who lose and those who win. To me all men were gamblers. Life itself was one continuous game of chance; and the stakes, that shelter and raiment and food and drink to compose the body’s bulwark against an instant conquest by Death. Of the inherent morality of gambling I nurtured no doubts. ”

“ No, it is not the lost Catbird—good squaw though she was—that embitters the tobacco and haunts the moods of Gray Wolf. It is something more awful than death—that merest savage commonplace; something to touch the important fiber of pride.
Gray Wolf is proud, as indeed he has concern to be. Not alone is he eminent as an Osage; he is likewise an eminent Indian. Those two thin ragged lines of blue tattoo which, on each side from the point of the jaw, run downward on the neck until they disappear beneath his blanket, prove Gray Wolf’s elevation. ”

“ In the days of the Stuarts, or later among the dull ones of Hanover, was it the peasant or the prince who wagered his gold at cards? Why man! every royal court was a gambling house; every king, save one—and he disloved and at the last insane—a gambler. Are not two-thirds of the homes of our American nobility—our folk of millions and Fifth Avenue—replete of faro and roulette and the very hotbed of a poisonous bridge whist? Fy, man, fy! you who denounce gambling but preach your own plebeianism—proclaim your own vulgarity! The gambler has been ever the patrician. ”

“ When Moh-Kwa felt the relief of that great thorn out of his paw, he was grateful to the Swallow an’ thought to do him a favor.
“You are laughed at,” said Moh-Kwa to the Swallow, “because your spirit is light as dead leaves an’ too much blown about like a tumbleweed wasting its seeds in foolish travelings to go nowhere for no purpose so that only it goes. ”

“ It was a crisis with Chicken Bill. The assay had been a victory and the stranger stood ready, cash in hand, to pay the sixty thousand dollars demanded for The Flim Flam Murphy. Chicken Bill felt the necessity of getting the money without delay. Any marplot, whether from drink or that mean officiousness which hypocrites call “conscience,” might say the word that would arm the tenderfoot with a knowledge of his peril. But Chicken Bill could not come to speech with Dead-wood Maggie. In a blaze of jealousy, that wronged woman would begin throwing things the moment he appeared. ”

“ Gray Wolf watches from beneath the cottonwood that already begins to throw its shadows long; his eyes follow Bill until the latter’s broad brimmed, gray sombrero disappears on the hill-crests over beyond Bird River.
It skills not to follow Bill in this pilgrimage. He fords rivers; he sups and sleeps at casual camps; now and again he pauses for the night at some chance plaza of the Mexicans; but first and last he pushes ever on and on at a round road gait, and with the end he has success. ”

“ And peculiarly does this sorrowful business of a ruined Christmas for Davy prey on poor Mike.
“You and I won’t mind,” says housewife Mollie, looking up in Mike’s face with the sage dignity of her eleven years, “because we’re old enough to understand; but I feel bad about little Davy. It’s the first real awful Christmas we’ve ever had.”
Mollie is as bright and wise as Mike is dull. Seven years her senior, still Mike has grown to believe in and rely altogether on Mollie as a guide. He takes her commands without question, and does her will like a slave. ”

“ The Saucy Paoli is light, pretty, round and wholesome, and she glances with shy, engaging softness on Bill from eyes as dark and big and deep as a deer’s. Is it not worth while to wed her? The Osages are owners in fee of one million, five hundred thousand acres of best land; they have eight even millions of dollars stored in the Great Father’s strong chests in Washington; they are paid each one hundred and forty dollars by their fostering Great Father as an annual present; and the head of the house draws all for himself and his own. ”

“ Gamblers are born and not made; they occur and they do not choose; they are, compared with more conservative and lawful men, what wolves are to honest dogs—cousins, truly, but tameless depredators, living lean and hard, and dying when die they do, neglected, lone and poor. Yet it is fate; they are born to it as much as is the Ishmael wolf and must run their midnight downhill courses.
Gamblers, that is true gamblers, are folk of specialties. Casino Joe’s was the game which gave to him his name—at casino he throve invincibly. ”

“ He is an artist of note, and speaks to a friend at his elbow. “What a model for my Jason! I will give him five dollars an hour for three hours a day. What’s his name? Mike what?” The battle is about to commence; the friend, tongue-tied of interest, makes no reply.
The Dublin Terror is a rugged, powerful ruffian, with lumpy shoulders, thick short neck, and a shock gorilla head. His little gray eyes are lighted fiercely. His expression is as savagely bitter as Mike’s is gentle. The creature, a fighter by nature, was born meaning harm to other men. ”

“ There is not an amateur about but knows more of Mike than does the latter of himself. They know him as one perfect of defensive boxing; also, they recall the precise feather-like taps which Mike confers on the best of their muster whenever he chooses; but none has a least of knowledge of how bitterly hard Mike’s glove might be sent home should ever his heart be given to the trial.
Being urged, Mike begins to rouse; he himself grows curious. It has never come to him as a thought to make the experiment. The “punching machine” has stood there as part of the paraphernalia of the gymnasium. ”

“ Deadwood Maggie was arranging tables at the time for those guests who from mine and store and bar-room would come, stamping and famishing, an hour later. Chicken Bill and she for the moment had the apartment to themselves. Goaded by her lover’s sweet persistency, and unable to phrase a retort that should do her feelings justice, Deadwood Maggie fell to the trite expedient of breaking a butter-dish on the head of Chicken Bill. ”

“ Bill is all things that a lady of sensibility should love; and for that on those two or three occasions when he came unexpectedly upon her, the Saucy Paoli dodged within the ancestral lodge to daub her nose and cheeks with hurried yet graceful red, thereby to improve and give her beauties point, Bill knows he has touched her heart. ”

“ So many elk did Strong-arm slay that his squaw, the Blossom, made for their little son, Feather-foot, a buckskin coat on which was sewed the eye-teeth of elk, two for each elk, until there were so many eye-teeth on Feather-foot’s buckskin coat it was like counting the leaves on a cottonwood to find how many there were. An’ the Blossom was proud of Feather-foot’s coat, for none among the Sioux had so beautiful a garment an’ the eye-teeth of the elk told how big a hunter was Strongarm. ”

“ Besides, there is the poverty-eaten, honest buck, watching all, to be appealed to should an accidental confusion of wagers occur.
On a bright blanket, a trifle to one side—not to be under the moccasins of commerce, as it were—sits the Saucy Paoli. She is without motion; and a blanket, covering her from little head to little foot, leaves not so much as a stray lock or the tip of an ear for one’s gaze to rest upon. The Saucy Paoli is present dutifully to answer the outcome of the Gray Wolf’s pact with Bill. One wonders how does her heart beat, and how roam her hopes? ”

“ It will be a blow to little Davy of the crutch, who has talked only of Christmas for two months past and gone.
Mike, as has been intimated, is dull and slow of brain. He has just enough of education to be able to read and write. He owns no bad habits—no habits at all, in fact; and the one great passion of his simple heart is love without a limit for Mollie and little Davy. He lives for them; the least of their desires is the great concern of Mike’s life. Therefore, when his income shrinks from twelve dollars to six, it creeps up on him and chills him as a loss to Mollie and Davy. ”

“ Too late, as he wipes the blood from his blade, he finds that he has killed his better self; too late he sees that from that time to the end, the present will have no hope, the future hold no heaven; that he must sink and sink and sink, until he is grasped by those hands outstretched of hell to forever have him for their horrid own. ”

“ Being moneyless, he will make no bet himself; being honest, he will faithfully guard the treasure put within his care. A sporting buck approaches the blanket; he grumbles a word or two in the ear of the pool master who sits at the blanket’s head; then he searches forth a hundred-dollar bill from the darker recesses of his blanket and lays it on the red betting-cloth. Another comes up; the pool master murmurs the name of the pony on which the hundred is offered; it is covered by the second speculator; that wager is complete. Others arrive at the betting blanket ”

“ The Openhand moved as quick as a fish in the Yellowstone, an’ stood as tall an’ strong as the big pine on the hill; there were no three warriors, the bravest of the Sioux, who could have gone on the trail of Openhand an’ shown his skelp on their return, for Openhand was a mighty fighter an’ had a big heart, so that even Fear himself was afraid of Openhand an’ never dared come where he was. ”

“ There existed but one further trait of caretaking forethought belonging with the worthy Betelnut Jack. It would have come better had others of that crooked clique of customs copied Betelnut Jack in this last cautious characteristic. Justice is a tortoise, while rascality’s a hare; yet justice though shod with lead wins ever the race at last. Betelnut Jack knew this; and while getting darkly rich with the others, he was always ready for the fall. ”

“ Now, since age has come to my head and gold to my fingers, and I’ve had time and the cooled blood wherewith to think, I’ve laid my ill courses of those eighteen evil years to the doors of what vile ideals of life are taught in circles of our very rich. ”

“ Peace kills thousands where war kills tens; and if one is to consider misery, why then there be more starvation, more cold, more pain, and more suffering in one year of New York City peace than pinched and gnawed throughout the whole four years of civil war. And human life is of comparative small moment. ”

“ Bill feels sure of the Saucy Paoli; it is Gray Wolf, somber of his late defeat by the wily Dull Ox and the evanescent roan, toward whom his apprehensions turn their face. The more, perhaps, since Bill himself, not being a blinded Osage, and having besides some certain wit concerning horses, scrupled not to wager and win on the Ponca entry, and against the beloved Sundown of his father-in-law to come. It is the notion that Gray Wolf might resent this apostasy that breeds a half pause in Bill’s optimism as he loafs in Florer’s door. ”

“ While Moh-Kwa is wondering an’ growling, there comes walking Shaw-shaw, the Swallow, who is a young man of the Sioux. The Swallow has a good heart; but his spirit is light an’ his nature as easily blown about on each new wind as a dead leaf. So the Sioux have no respect for the Swallow but laugh when he comes among them, an’ some even call him Shau-goh-dah-wah, the Coward, for they do not look close, an’ mistake lightness for fear. ”

“ They assembled but twenty-four dollars—a slim force and not one wherewith to storm the citadel of Connelly’s troubles. How should I augment my capital? I knew of but one quick method and that flowed with risks—it was the races.
I turned naturally to the horses, for it was those continuous efforts which I put forth to name winners that had so dissipated my patrimony. About the time I might have selected a victor now and then, my wealth was departed away. It is always thus. Sinister yet satirical paradox! the best judges of racing have ever the least money! ”