Then he rose and took up the papers which he had been preparing, and as
he went over them again he came to profounder realization than ever
before of the mighty tragedy whose final act he seemed about to witness.
His heart swelled with a great tenderness towards that fragment of a
proud and free people who sat in wonder before the coming of an infinite
flood of alien races, helpless to stay it, appalled by the breadth and
power of the stream which swept them away. He felt himself in some sense
their chosen friend--their Moses, to lead them out of the desolation in
which they sat bewildered and despairing. Thinking of them and of plans
to help them, he grew weary at last, his brain ceased to grind, and he
slept.

XI

CURTIS GRAPPLES WITH BRISBANE

The hearing took place at ten o'clock, but Curtis had opportunity for a
little helpful consultation with Lawson before the chairman called the
committeemen to order. The session seemed unimportant--perfunctory. The
members sat for the most part silent, ruminating, with eyes fixed on the
walls or upon slips of paper which they held abstractedly in their
hands. Occasionally some one of them would rouse up to ask a question,
but, in general, their attitudes were those of bored and preoccupied
business men. They came and went carelessly in response to calls of
their clerks, and Curtis perceived that they had very little real
interest in the life or death of the redmen. He would have been
profoundly discouraged had not the chairman been alert and his questions
to the point. After his formal statement had been taken and the hearing
was over, the chairman approached Curtis informally and showed a very
human sympathy for the Tetongs.

"Yes, I think we can hold this raid in check," he said, in answer to
Curtis, and added, slowly, "I am very glad to find a man of your quality
taking up this branch of service." He paused, and a smile wrinkled his
long, Scotch face. "They accuse me of being a weak sentimentalist,
because I refuse to consider the redman in the light of a reptile. I was
an abolitionist"--the smile faded from his eyes and his thin lips
straightened--"in days when it meant something to defend the negro, and
in standing for the rights of the redman I am merely continuing my
life-work. It isn't a question of whether I know the Indian or not,
though I know him better than most of my critics; it's a question of his
dues under our treaties. We considered him a man when