that Pa was a wonder, and then they got out a pack
of cards and played draw poker awhile. Pa had bad luck, and when the
Indian bet a lot of chips, Pa began to look the Indian in the eye, and the
Indian began to quail, and Pa put up all the chips he had, to bluff the
Indian, but Pa took his eye off the Indian a minute too quick, and the
Indian quit quailing, and bet Pa $70, and Pa called him, and the Indian
had four deuces and pa had a full hand, and the Indian took the money.
Pa said that comes of educating these confounded red devils, at the
expense of the government, and then we all went to bed.
The next morning we were at the station in the far west. We got off and
started for the Indian reservation where the Carlisle Indian originally
came from, and where we were to hire Indians for our show. We rode
about 40 miles in hired buckboards, and just as the sun was Setting
there appeared in the distance an Indian camp, where smoke ascended
from tepees, tents and bark houses. When the civilized Carlisle Indian
jumped up on the front seat of the buckboard and gave a series of yells
that caused pa's bald head to look ashamed that it had no hair to stand
on end, there came a war whoop from the camp, Indians, squaws, dogs,
and everything that contained a noise letting out yells that made me
sick. The Carlisle Indian began to pull off his citizen clothes of
civilization, and when the horses ran down to the camp in front of the
chief's tent the tribes welcomed the Carlisle prodigal son, who had
removed every evidence of civilization, except a pair of football pants,
and thus he reinstated himself with the affections of his race, who
hugged him for joy.
Pa and the rest of us sat in the buckboard while the Indians began to
feast on something cooking in a shack. We looked at each other for
awhile, not daring to make a noise for fear it would offend the Indians.
Pretty soon an old chief came and called Pa the Great Father, and called
me a pup, and he invited us to come into camp and partake of the feast.
Well, we were hungry, and the meat certainly tasted good, and the
Carlisle civilized Indian had no business to say it was dog, 'cause no
man likes to smoke his pipe of peace with strong tobacco in a strange
pipe, and feel that his stomach is full of dog meat. But we didn't die,
and all the evening the Indians talked about the brave great father.
It seemed that they were not going to take much stock in pa's bravery
until they had tried him out in Indian fashion. We were standing in the
moonlight surrounded by Indians, and Pa had been questioned as to his
bravery, and Pa said he was brave like Roosevelt, and he swelled out
his chest and looked the part, when the chief said, pointing to a savage,
snarling dog that was smelling of pa: "Brave man, kick a dog!"
We all told Pa that the Indian wanted Pa to give an exhibition of his
bravery by kicking the dog, and while I could see that Pa had rather
hire a man to kick the dog, he knew that it was up to him to show his
mettle, so he hauled off and gave the dog a kick near the tail, which
seemed to telescope the dog's spine together, and the dog landed far
away. The chief patted Pa on the shoulder and said: "Great Father,
bully good hero. Tomorrow he kill a grizzly," and then they let us go to
bed, after Pa had explained that if everything went well he would hire
all the chiefs and young braves for his show.
[Illustration: Pa Kicked the Dog.]
After we got to bed Pa said he was almost sorry he told the chief that he
would take a grizzly bear by one ear, and cuff the other ear with the flat
of his hand, as he didn't know but a wild grizzly would look upon such
conduct differently from our old bear in the show used to. Any person
around the show could slap his face, or cuff him, or kick him in the
slats, and he would act as though they were doing him a favor. The big
game hunter told pa that there was no danger in hunting a grizzly, as
you could scare him away, if you didn't want to have any truck with
him, by waving your hat and yelling: "Git, Ephraim." He said no
grizzly would stand around a
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