"Jack," said Chiquita, after the inspection of one of these abodes of an Indian, who had adopted some of the ways and customs of his white brethren, "Cherokee once big Indian, now half man, half coyote; little plow, little hunt, little eat--little good," and she curled her lip in disdain as she contemplated the work of onwardness. Continuing the conversation in the more polished language of a college student, "Did not the Great Spirit, the one God of the Indians, put his people here in this paradise--this continent of flower-carpeted, forest-grown hills and vales, a people noble in thought, noble in dignified demeanor, with a belief in a religion simple and effective? Among Indians are no infidels or agnostics. All Indians believe in the Happy Hunting Ground and the Great Spirit. Do you know, Jack, of any country where the native race, indigenous to the land, compare with the noble red man as he was when the first white settlers occupied America?" "Possibly the Arabs or early Egyptians might compare more favorably than any other nation that I know of," Jack replied. "Yes, but Egypt and Arabia are of today, whereas the Indians are wards of a great government, and your government has condemned the Indian to a worse Siberia than that to which Nihilist was ever transported. Look; there is a specimen of what a civilized government does to a native-born American," pointing to a "half-breed" trying to plow with one steer harnessed up like a horse. "Hello!" Jack sang out to the man thus referred to. As the buckboard stopped a few rods from the shack, called a "hoos," the individual addressed pulled at his galluses and hat, then walked over to the fence, which enclosed fifty acres of newly plowed ground, said, "How?" and stood gaping at the travelers. "Good morning," cheerily said Jack. "We are on our way to Pryor Creek and then want to go into the Kiowa Reservation. Can you tell us anything about the road?" "Waal, I reckon yes. It's good goin' 'til yer git to the Verdigris. Thet nigh ho'se (meaning horse, pronounced with long o and aspirate s) uster belong to the 'Lazy L' outfit." The answer was given in a drawling, sing-song tone, with full rests between every third word, when the speaker stopped to pick up a stick to whittle, to halloo at his steer or to show how straight he could expectorate a small freshet of tobacco juice between his teeth at some real or imaginary mark. His skin was a dirty soot color, and his raven black eyes and straight hair emphasized his ghastly pallor. He was tall and thin--built on the Arkansas plan of constructing ladders. His hips and shoulder blades seemed to meet, giving his long, lank legs the appearance of a man's head on jointed stilts. Jack made no reply to the remark about the horse with the "Lazy L" brand, but inquired the distance to the Verdigris. "It's quite a patch. I reckon yer mought hev some 'navy' about yer close; jess the same if yer moughten--thanks."