The People: And Other Uncollected Fiction Read Online Free PDF Page B

and galloping off as fast as he could in whichever direction.
    Instead, he accompanied the warrior to the chief’s tepee, where more than three dozen braves were crowded together, several of whom seemed to be in a mood of celebration. Some of the Indians stared at Yozip as if he were a small animal they preferred not to name.

    Among them was an elderly medicine man with a missing front tooth, wearing a headdress of purple flowers. He shook his flowered head.
    “How,” he greeted Yozip.
    The old chief frowned at the expression.
    The medicine man frowned at Yozip.
    The chief, standing near them, addressed the ex-peddler: “We will now begin the ceremony of your entrance into our tribe.”
    Maybe it’s like a bar mitzvah, Yozip thought. If it is, why should I say no?
    The chief addressed the sub-chiefs, warriors, medicine man, and braves in a dialect strange to Yozip’s ears. He spoke solemnly in words that sounded like Chinese, though Yozip was sure he had never heard Chinese; yet he would not be surprised if the dialect he was listening to resembled it. A remarkable thing about a language was that it sometimes sounded like a different language. He remembered once hearing a Hungarian play in Warsaw that, for all he got from it, might have been Chinese. On the other hand, his Russian was fair and he was tempted to address the chief with a quotation from Pushkin, but didn’t want to astound him. The chief addressed him with probing eyes as he said these words in the language of the People:
    “I have chosen a man whose bravery I witnessed, and whose words I trust, to be among us as one of our brothers. I may ask him to speak in our names to some of the whites, and once more tell them who we are, and why our words and ways must be honored. He knows he must pass our tests of initiation, and if he does I shall order you, my people, to accept him as I already do deep in my bowels, and as I have been instructed by the Great Spirit, whose presence I feel on my back and shoulders and in the depths of my being.”
    “Ha yai,” said the chief.
    “Yai ha,” said the medicine man in the purple-flowered hat, breaking into a long-legged dance. The chief clapped his hands, then spoke first in Indian words and then in English: “Braves, warriors, medicine man, and sub-chiefs: I will speak to you. Listen: I propose this Yozip, who seems to me to be a good man, to work
and speak in the name of our tribe. You must honor his efforts.”
    Those who listened answered with silence.
    The old chief clapped his hands and pointed in the direction of a flock of Indian ponies, among them Yozip’s mare chewing grass in a nearby hollow.
    “We begin our ceremonies and rites.”
    Then he said the same in their tongue, and the Indians broke their silence in muttered words.
    At this moment One Blossom entered the chief’s tepee in the company of three squaws. He, observing their entrance, spoke to them: “I will order my daughter, One Blossom, to accept her new brother under these conditions I have spoken, after they are justified by rites of initiation.”
    One Blossom turned pale and Indian Head swallowed his spittle as if he had been chewing a dead mouse.
    The three squaws standing nearby whispered among themselves. Indian Head threw up his mouse head as the medicine man in purple chanted a blessing in reverse.
    The first contest, Yozip learned, was to be a circular horse race to a rotting oak tree about three miles away, then around the split oak and back. First returned, first winner, and bets were permitted by the braves, though the chief himself thought it was a waste of good beads. Yozip had not participated in a horse race even when he was a marshal in charge of public safety, although he had once led a Fourth of July parade. But now he was personally instructed concerning the rules of the horse races, as some of the braves sniggered. He also listened attentively to the chief’s instructions in his native tongue, trying to pick up a word