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"Well, he is a dandy. He can run like a deer, and he has the strength of a grizzly bear."
"Don't I know it?" laughed Frank. "Didn't I find it out when Yale played Carlisle. He was a perfect wonder among the Indians, and their entire eleven were bulldog fighters. They were not at all scientific in their play, but they gave Yale the hottest kind of a fight, and came near battering a road to victory several times."
Inza did not seem to hear Merriwell's words, and she was giving him no attention. She had called Hodge to her side, and was speaking to Bart.
As Frank turned toward the girl he heard her say:
"It's a disgrace to civilization that the American Indian is treated in such a shameful manner! The Indians have been robbed, and deceived, and butchered, and lied to, till they have no confidence in white men; and now, because once in a while an Indian imitates a white man and gets drunk, it is said all Indians are bad! It makes my blood boil to think of it. John Swiftwing is a specimen of the educated Indian, and he shows what the government might do with these unfortunates if it tried. I think the United States ought to be ashamed of itself! I am ashamed of it, so there!"
Hodge laughed.
"You have grown very enthusiastic over this subject of late," he said.
"It seems to me that all your enthusiasm has been aroused since you first saw John Swiftwing."
Inza echoed his laugh, but added color came to her cheeks.
"Perhaps you are right," she admitted. "I confess I did not know there were any Indians like Mr. Swiftwing. He was a revelation to me."
"There are a few like him, but he is not just what he seems, you may be sure of that, Inza."
"Now stop right there, Bart Hodge! Don't tell me that he is still a savage at heart. I know better! You can't make me believe that after seeing all the fine things there are in the East and learning how much superior the method of living among white men is to the way the Indians live that a highly intelligent fellow like John Swiftwing could desire to come back here and live as his people live."
"I shall not try to make you believe it, Inza," smiled Bart, "for I have learned that it is not an easy thing to change your mind once you have it set on anything."
"That's so! When I am sure of a thing I'll stick to it."
Frank bit his lip.
"That's right," he thought. "She is the most obstinate girl in the world. She is jealous, quick-tempered, obstinate and intractable, but still there is an irresistible charm about her. I should dislike any other girl of her temperament and disposition, but it is most marvelous that the more hateful she is the greater is her attraction for me. Who can explain that? I am sure I can't."
He spoke to Inza, but she did not deign to give him much attention, continuing her conversation with Hodge, whose eyes twinkled as he saw there was some sort of a misunderstanding between her and Frank.
"They seem to be quarreling or making up all the time," Bart mentally observed.
Boomp-boomp! boomp-er-boomp! boomp-er-boomp!
The sun dance had begun, and the drummer was beating out the time with a curious and ponderous drumstick.
The drum was a big rawhide affair, as large as a barrel, and was carried by two men.
The men of the two large community buildings had formed in separate groups, shoulder to shoulder, and, on an open s.p.a.ce before the bower occupied by the images, they began the dance.
This dance was a curious lifting of the feet with a sharp, jerky motion, and they sang a Pueblo anthem, which sounded like this:
"Hi yo to hoo he yo yah hay yo, He yah hi yo ye har ye he ho."
This was a song of praise and thanksgiving to the Sun Father, and a supplication for the continuance of his favor. It was not the hoa.r.s.e and discordant yelping of the Northern Indian, but arose and fell in rhythmical cadences and with an exactness of time that was surprising.
The spectators watched the dance with a curious feeling of interest and fascination.
CHAPTER XXI-THE RELIGIOUS RACE
Soon the sun dance was over and then came the religious race.
The track was a smooth strip of ground, stretching about four hundred yards from the bower in which the images had been placed.
The track was kept clear by old men, who were stationed at short distances up and down, armed with green branches to keep intruders out of the way.
At each end the contestants stood in a row, watching the track.
Each of the big community buildings was represented by sixteen runners, who were to take turns in the race.
The governor of the Pueblo made a short speech, and then, with startling suddenness two lithe figures darted out from the end nearer the bower, there was a wild shout of "hay-wah-oh," and the race had begun.
The two runners stopped when they reached the other end of the course, but already two other runners had taken their places, darting off like foxes the moment the original two crossed a certain line that was marked by a bush that lay across the track.
This change was made at each end of the course, so all the sixteen contestants took turns.
But it was permissible to put the same runner in as many times as necessary, and it so happened that, whenever one side would get a lead over the other, the best runners were called on to go in repeatedly.
Behind each of the runners chosen to take up the race next stood two old men, who were each holding a long eagle feather. With these feathers they repeatedly touched the calves of the runners' legs, at the same time muttering a prayer to the Sun Father, imploring him to give the runners the speed of the eagle.
The spectators showed much excitement as the race continued.
"Um-o-pah! um-o-pah!" they shouted, wildly waving their hands to the winners.
They were urging them to "hurry up."
In vain the boys looked for John Swiftwing.
"It's strange he has not been chosen to take part in this race," said Frank. "I have been told by one of the old chiefs that he was swifter than all their other runners before he went away to school."
"Are there no other races?" asked Hodge.
"Yes; but this being the religious race, is of the most consequence, and usually the best runners are put into this."
"Perhaps Swiftwing is saving himself for some other race."
"Perhaps so."
Inza watched the runners with great interest, but Miss Abigail soon tired of the affair.
"I can't say that I see anything entertaining or intellectual in all this," she sniffed.