The Way of an Indian | Page 3

one can catch up
with me. No arrow can catch me, no bullet can find me, in my tricky
flight. I have your shadow and I will fly about so fast that the
spirit-wildcats and the spirit-birds and the stone giants cannot come up
with me or your shadow, which I carry under my wings. Sit down here
in the dark place under the cliffs and rest. Have no fear." White Otter
sat him down as directed, muffled in his robe. "Keep me safe, do not go
away from me, ye little brown bat. I vow to keep you all my life, and to
take you into the shadow-land hereafter, if ye will keep me from the
demons now, O little brown bat!" And so praying, he saw the sky pale
in the east as he lay down to sleep. Then he looked all around for his
little brown bat, which was no more to be seen.
The daylight brought quiescence to the fasting man, and he sank back,
blinking his hollow eyes at his shadow beside him. Its possession lulled
him, and he paid the debt of nature, lying quietly for a long time.
Consciousness returned slowly. The hot sun beat on the fevered man,
and he moved uneasily. To his ears came the far-away beat of a
tom-tom, growing nearer and nearer until it mixed with the sound of

bells and the hail-like rattle of gourds. Soon he heard the breaking of
sticks under the feet of approaching men, and from under the pines a
long procession of men appeared--but they were shadows, like water,
and he could see the landscape beyond them. They were spirit-men. He
did not stir. The moving retinue came up, breaking now into the slow
side-step of the ghost-dance, and around the form of White Otter
gathered these people of the other world. They danced "the Crazy
Dance" and sang, but the dull orbs of the faster gave no signs of
interest.
"He-eye, he-eye! we have come for you--come to take you to the
shadow-land. You will live on a rocky island, where there are no ponies,
no women, no food, White Otter. You have no medicine, and the Good
God will not protect you. We have come for you--hi-ya, hi-ya, hi-yah!"
"I have a medicine," replied White Otter. "I have the little brown bat
which came from God."
"He-eye, he-eye! Where is your little brown bat? You do not speak the
truth--you have no little brown bat from God. Come with us, White
Otter." With this, one of the spirit-men strode forward and seized White
Otter, who sprang to his feet to grapple with him. They clinched and
strained for the mastery, White Otter and the camp-soldier of the
spirit-people.
"Come to me, little brown bat," shouted the resisting savage, but the
ghostly crowd yelled, "Your little brown bat will not come to you,
White Otter."
Still he fought successfully with the spirit-soldier. He strained and
twisted, now felling the ghost, now being felled in turn, but they
staggered again to their feet. Neither was able to conquer. Hour after
hour he resisted the taking of his body from off the earth to be
deposited on the inglorious desert island in the shadow-land. At times
he grew exhausted and seemed to lie still under the spirit's clutches, but
reviving, continued the struggle with what energy he could summon.
The westering sun began lengthening the shadows on the Inyan-kara,
and with the cool of evening his strength began to revive. Now he

fought the ghost with renewed spirit, calling from time to time on his
medicine-bat, till at last when all the shadows had merged and gone
together, with a whir came the little brown bat, crying "Na-hoin" [I
come].
Suddenly all the ghost-people flew away, scattering over the Inyan-kara,
screaming, "Hoho, hoho, hoho!" and White Otter sat up on his robe.
The stone giants echoed in clattering chorus, the spirit-birds swished
through the air with a whis-s-s-tling noise, and the whole of the bad
demons came back to prowl, since the light had left the world, and they
were no longer afraid. They all sought to circumvent the poor Indian,
but the little brown bat circled around and around his head, and he kept
saying: "Come to me, little brown bat. Let White Otter put his hand on
you; come to my hand."
But the bat said nothing, though it continued to fly around his head. He
waved his arms widely at it, trying to reach it. With a fortunate sweep it
struck his hand, his fingers clutched around it, and as he drew back his
arm he found his little brown bat dead in the vise-like grip. White
Otter's medicine had come to him.
Folding himself in his robe, and still grasping the