Neihardt, John G. . The Look in the Face / By John G. Neihardt
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   "IT will make me glad to tell you about a man whom I wished to kill," said Half-a-Day, puffing at his pipe, and handing it to me, "for we have looked upon each other through pipe-smoke and eaten meat out of the same kettle. We are brothers, though our faces are not the same."

   We sat beside the lodge-fire, my brown friend and I. He had the keen, hawk face, and his eyes stared through the flame down a trail I could not see.

   "Many winters and summers ago I was young. I am slow now, and I am looking much to the ground when I walk; for," he continued, "I am going there soon. I can see the face of Paezha, the Flower, the one daughter of Douba Mona, for my eyes have grown young a little while to-night. Paezha was not so big as the other squaws, and could never be so big, because she was not made for building teepees and carrying wood and water. She was small and good to look upon, like some of your white sisters. And there was no face in all the village of my people like hers. Her feet touched the ground like a little wind from the south, they fell so lightly; her body bent easily like a willow. I think her eyes were like stars!"

   I smiled, 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, the trail no feet can ever follow twice.

   "And I looked upon her face," continued Half-a-Day, "until I could see nothing else -- not the sunup nor the sundown nor the moon and stars. Her face became a medicine face to me; because I was young and she was good to see. 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, hand at brow. 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 afterward, I will get many ponies.'

   "So one evening, when the meat boiled over the fires, I went down to the big spring in the valley, and hid in the grass; for Paezha brought cold water to her father in the evenings, carrying it in a little kettle smaller than your head-cover, for she was not big. I lay waiting. I could not hear the running of the spring water nor the wind in the willows, because my heart sang so loud.EDITOR'S NOTE

   "I heard a step -- and it was Paezha. She leaned over the spring and looked


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down; and there were then two Paezhas, so my wish for her was doubled, having the strength of two wishes. I arose from the grass. She looked upon me, and fear came into her face, for there was that in my face which wished to conquer, and I was very strong. Like the antelope she leaped and ran with wind-feet down the valley. I was breathless when I caught her and lifted her with an arm too strong; for I hurt her, and she cried."

   Half-a-Day reached toward me for the pipe. 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 that which 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 not hold her. A little while she looked with big eyes upon me; and I saw then what makes the squaws break their backs carrying wood and water and papooses; also, what makes men do big deeds that are not selfish. Then she ran from me, and I fell upon my face and cried like a baby at the back of a squaw."

   Half-a-Day puffed hard at his pipe; then, sighing, handed it back to me.

   "Have you seen that look in the face, white brother?" he said, staring with eyes that mastered me.

   "I am young," I answered.

   "But when you see that look, it will make you old," he went on, "for when I arose and went back to the village, I was old, and nothing was the same. From that time I could look the biggest brave in the eyes, for I was a man; I had seen the look.

   "It was in the time when the sunflowers die -- the time for the hunting of bison. So the whole tribe made ready for the hunt. One morning we rode out, and it was good to see the braves and the ponies and the squaws walking behind one another out of the village on the bison trail. And we were so many that the foremost were lost in the hills when the last left the village. We all sang; and the ponies neighed at the lonesome lodges, for they were leaving home.

   "Many days we traveled toward the place of evening, and there was song in me, even when I did not sing; for always I was near Paezha, who rode in a blanket slung on a pole between two ponies, for she was the daughter of Douba Mona, who was not a poor man. And I spoke gentle words to her, and she smiled -- because she had seen my weakness at the big spring. Also I picked flowers for her, and she took them. But one day Black Dog rode on the other side of Paezha and spoke soft words. And a strange look was on the face of Paezha; but not the look I had seen in the valley of the big spring. So I drove away the sudden bitterness of my heart, and spoke good words to Black Dog. But he was sullen; also he was better to look upon than I. I can say this now, for I have felt the winds of many winters.

   "Many sleeps we rode toward the place of evening. When we started, the moon was thin and small and bent like a child's bow, and it hung above the sunset. As we traveled, it grew bigger and bigger, ever farther toward the place of morning, until at last it came forth no more, but slept in its black lodge after its long, steep trail. But we did not rest, though our trail was long and hard. And all the while we strained our eyes from many hilltops, but saw no bison. Scarcer and scarcer was the food; for the summer had been a summer of fighting, and we had conquered and feasted much, hunted little.

   "So it happened that we who were still strong took less meat, that the weaker might live until we found the bison. And all the while the strength of Paezha's face grew upon me, so that I divided my meat with her. It made me sing to see her eat. One day she said to me:

   "'Why do you sing, Half-a-Day, when all the people are sad?'

   "'I sing because I am empty!' I said.

   "Black Dog, who rode upon the other side, he did not sing. So she said:

   "'Why do you not sing, Black Dog? Is it because we do not find the bison?'

   "'I do not sing because I am empty,' he said.

   "All day I was afraid that Paezha had judged between us, seeing me so light of thought and deed. That evening, when we stopped for the night,


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there was not enough meat left to keep us five sleeps longer. The squaws did not sing as they pitched the teepees. They were empty; the braves were empty, and the papooses whined like little baby coyotes at their mothers' backs. No one spoke. The fires boomed up and made the hills sound as with the bellowing of bulls; and the sound mocked us. The dark came down; we sat about the fires, but we did not speak. We groaned; for we were empty and we would not eat until we had slept again. Once every sleep we ate, and we had eaten.

   "That night the wise old men gathered together in the teepee of the chiefs and sang medicine songs that our god, Wakanda, might see our suffering and send us the bison. I heard the songs and I felt a great strength grow up out of my emptiness. Then I said:

   "'I will go to the fathers, and they will send me in search of the bison; and I will find the bison for Paezha, so that she may not starve.'

   "I had forgotten myself and my people; I knew only Paezha. For that day I had heard her moan, having nothing more to give. So I went to the big teepee. I stood among the fathers, and lifted a strong voice in spite of my emptiness:

   "'Give me a swift pony and a little meat,' I said, 'and I will find the bison!'

   "And the old men looked upon me, sighing. But Douba Mona, Paezha's father, being one of the wise men, said:

   "'I see a light in his eye, and hear a strength in his voice. Give him the swift pony and the little meat. If he finds the bison, then he shall have Paezha, for well I see that something is between them. Also, he shall have many ponies.'

   "And these words made me full, as if I had sat at a feast.