ut of the past, a chorus which was carrying
forward into an individualistic white man's world the voices of the
indeterminate tribal past.

The sky was moonless, the air frosty, and after we had entered the
narrow canon, which was several miles long and very steep, the clerk,
who was not very skilled with horses, turned the reins over to me, and
for an hour or more I drove with one foot on the brake, trusting mainly
to the horses to find their way. It was bitter cold in the canon, and my
cramped right leg became lame--so lame that I could hardly get out of
the wagon after we reached the Agency. Excruciating pain developed in
the sciatic nerve, and though I passed a sleepless night I was
determined to leave next morning. "I shall go if I have to be carried to
my horse," I said grimly to the clerk, who begged me to stay in bed.

Fortunately, the trader was going to the railway and kindly offered to
take me with him; and so, laden with Navajo silver (bracelets, buckles
and rings), I started out, so lame that I dragged one leg with a groan,
hoping that with the warmth of the sun my pain would pass away.

Reaching Gallup at noon, I spent the afternoon sitting in the sun,
waiting for the train. At six o'clock it came, and soon I was washed and
shaved and eating dinner on the dining-car of the Continental Limited.

All that night and all the next day and far into the second night I
rode, my fear of missing connection at Topeka uniting with my rheumatism
to make the hours seem of interminable length. It seemed at times a
long, long "shot"--but I made it! I reached the station at Topeka just
in time to catch the connecting train, and I was on the platform at St.
Joseph at sun-rise a full half-hour before the Burlington coaches from
Chicago were due.

As I walked up and down, I smiled with anticipation of the surprise I
had in store. "If she keeps her schedule I shall see her step from the
Pullman car without the slightest suspicion that I am within six hundred
miles of her," I thought, doing my best to walk the kink out of my leg,
which was still painful. "She is coming! My wife is coming!" I repeated,
incredulous of the fact.

At eight o'clock the engine came nosing in, and while watching the line
of passengers descend, I lost hope. It was too much to expect!

She was there! I saw her as she stepped down from the rear Pullman, and
just as she was about to take her valise from the porter, I touched her
on the shoulder and