Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Road to El Dorado in the tent. M’sieu Reason, will you be so kind as to go and watch the wagons?” Reason grunted something uncomplimen- tary to storekeeping, but lost much of his displeasure as they came up to the wagons and Miss June warmed him with a smile. It was evident that her father had informed her of his plans, as she was ready to visit the Indian village. As Joe and Laramie and the girl drew near the village the trapper halted and listened attentively to the sound of singing. “They’re yelpin’ ’bout their medicine,” he said. ‘“They’re startin’, or finishin’, war-dances.”’ “But not against the whites,” Laramie assured them. “TI sent a talk to Left Hand by a squaw this morning. He is friendly to the whites.” “Left Hand’s all right. Let’s find him.” The girl was in no way perturbed by the sights and sounds of the village. The Arap- aho blood in her veins made her feel at home as she and the two men advanced be- tween the outer circle of tents. The singing and dancing were going on in the center of the village. The trader refrained: from penetrating thither. He led the way to a large lodge and invited the girl and the trapper to make themselves comfortable. Their coming had been observed and Left Hand would soon join them, he explained. They had barely seated themselves on robes before the singing ceased abruptly. In a few minutes the chief, Left Hand, friendly to the whites yet destined to die six years later by the white man’s bullets in the Sand Creek massacre, entered the lodge and was shaking his guests by the hand. Next he produced a calumet and the three men smoked. After a brief silence the trader informed him— “T come about my daughter.” The chief turned to her and said— “They say there is Arapaho blood in your heart.” She bowed, to show she understood. He continued: . : “Tt is very little Arapaho blood. It is washed almost white. But our people stand by their blood so long as it can speak to them.” Another pause while the chief stared va- cantly over the girl’s head; then the trader resumed: “My white friends and I may be away 61 from the wagons at times. I wish my daughter—the daughter of your people— to have some of your women to stay with her. I wish the Arapaho men to help her if any danger creeps near her.” “Tt has been said before. I say it again now. Her Arapaho blood, even if only as much as follows the scratch of a thorn, shall be heard when it speaks to the people of her mothers. Our women shall be with her and tell us if the men are needed.” He leaped to his feet and called out in a shrill, ear-piercing voice. At once warriors came running between the tents and grouped before the big lodge. Left Hand explained: “This pale-faced woman has Arapaho blood. It is very little. All the rest is white blood. She lives with white people. “She is afraid she may need help. She calls to us through the few drops of Arapaho blood to be her brothers. “The Inunaina will hear the voice even if it speaks through but one drop of blood. We will help her when white men can not help her. We will forget that her father is a white man and only remember that her mother’s mother’s mother was an Arapaho of full blood. You will remember.” Then he called the leading men, a dozen of them, by name, and as each was called he advanced and clapped both hands on the girl’s shoulders and after staring steadily into her eyes for a few moments stepped back a few paces, and, raising his right hand above his head, palm outward, cried, “Haol” then fell back among his fellows. Twelve times this ceremony was repeated. Left Hand then turned to the girl and quietly said: “Our eyes are open. We will be ready. Our women will be with you tomorrow.” Miss June touched first herself, then the chief, on the left breast, the sign for “Good Hearts,’ as the Arapahoes were fond of styling themselves, and then modestly stepped behind her father. As the trader passed from the lodge he said— “T heard war-singing and dancing.” Left Hand carelessly replied— “Only the young men singing their buffalo songs.”’ “They say there is a war-path leading to the Utes,” said Joe. “The country is hard to travel. Why should red men fight red men?” evaded the . chief, Go NOOK = a (C@