“Paezha was not so big as the other squaws, and could never be so big,
because she was not made for building tepees and bringing wood and
water. She was little and thin and good to see like some of your white
sisters, and there was no face in the village of my people like her
face. Her feet touched the ground with a light touch like a little wind
from the south; her body bent easily like a willow; I think her eyes
were like stars.”
I smiled here, because the simile has become so trite among us white
lovers. But Half-a-Day saw me not; he looked down the long trail that
leads back to youth, leading through and beyond the fire.
“And I looked upon her face until I could see nothing else—not the
sunrise nor the sunset nor the moon and stars. Her face became a
medicine face to me; because I was a young man and it was good to see
her. And also, I was a poor young man; my father had few ponies, and
her father had as many as one could see with a big look.
“But I was strong and proud and in the long nights I dreamed of Paezha,
till one day I said: ‘I will have her and I will fight all the braves
in all the villages before I will give her up. Then afterwards I will
get many ponies like her father.’
“So one evening when the meat boiled over the fires, I went down to
the big spring and hid in the grass, for it was the habit of Paezha to
bring cold water to her father in the evenings, carrying it in a little
kettle no bigger than your head covering, for she was not big.
“And I lay waiting. I could not hear the bugs nor the running of the
spring water nor the wind in the willows, because my heart sang so loud.
“And I heard a step—and it was Paezha. She leaned over the spring,
and looked down; then there were two Paezhas, so my wish for her was
doubled and had the strength of two wishes.
“I arose from the grass. She looked upon me and fear came into her
eyes; for there was that in my face which wished to conquer, and I was
very strong. Like the _tae-chuga_ [antelope] she leaped and ran with
wind-feet down the valley. I was without breath when I caught her, and
I lifted her with arms too strong, for she cried.”
Half-a-Day reached toward me for the pipe and puffed strongly. His
eyes were masterful, with the world-old spirit of the conquering male
in them.
“Then as I held her, I looked upon her face and saw what I had never
seen before: a look in the face that was sad and weak and frightened,
begging for pity. Only it was not all that; it was shining like the
sun through a cloud, and it was stronger than I, for I became weak and
could hold her no longer. A little while she looked with wide eyes upon
me; and then I saw what makes the squaws break their backs carrying
wood and water and _zhinga zhingas_ [babies]; also what makes men fight
and do great deeds that are not selfish.
“Then she ran from me and I fell upon my face and cried like a _zhinga
zhinga_ at the back of a squaw—I know not why.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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