I
Someone was calling him,
“Ei shichai, ei-yei!”
He opened his eyes, staring upward at the face of Jesting Squaw’s Son that laughed at him as he sat high above him in the saddle. The face was in shadow under the circle of his stiff-brimmed hat, cut out against the gleaming, hard sky. The sun was halfway up.
“Wake up, Grandfather! Big Tall Man is going to play tree-pushing against everybody.”
“Hakone!” He was up at the word. “Give me a smoke, Grandfather.” He climbed up behind his friend’s saddle. “Come on.”
They stopped for coffee at a hogan near the pool, where the woman of the house mocked him for sleeping late.
The people were gathered in a little box canyon, where fire had destroyed a number of scrub oaks and piñons under one wall near a seep of water. There they were dividing into two groups, according to whether they backed Big Tall Man or Man Hammer, the policeman from over by T’o Nanasdési. Hill Singer rode back and forth between, collecting and announcing the bets. Most of the money was on Big Tall Man, and there were few takers. Laughing Boy could not place any. He saw that girl sitting among the neutral spectators.
“Who is that girl,” he asked Slender Hair—“the one who had so much hard goods on last night?”
“She is called Slim Girl, I think. She comes from down by the railroad track, from near Chiziai, I think.”
Big Tall Man and Man Hammer moved up to two dead trees of roughly the same size. Hill Singer and Hurries to War were judging. Now they pushed and strained at the trees, digging their feet in the sand, heaving shoulders. Big Tall Man’s tree began to crack; then suddenly it went over. People exclaimed and laughed. After that nobody more wanted to play against him.
Then they had wrestling for the young men. Laughing Boy bet a little and lost a couple of dollars. There was a tall man wearing an American shirt and trousers and a hat, who made a great deal of noise about himself. He beat one challenger easily. Laughing Boy recognized the man who danced so outrageously last night.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“That is Red Man. He comes from down by the railroad.”
“He is too skinny. I am going to beat him.”
He challenged Red Man.
“How much will you bet on yourself?”
“I have three-fifty and this bow-guard.”
“That makes eight-fifty.”
“The bow-guard is worth more; it is worth ten dollars.”
The man looked at it judgingly. “Well, it is worth eight. That makes eleven-fifty. Why don’t you bet your belt?”
“It is not mine.”
“So you are sure you are going to lose, I think?”
Laughing Boy did not like this Indian. “No; I’m going to throw you right away.”
“Ei-yei! Then bet the belt. See, mine is better than yours. It has turquoise in it.”
“All right.”
They piled up the stakes: three-fifty and a bow-guard against eleven-fifty, belt against belt. The belt was worth money, but it was ugly, Laughing Boy thought. He did not like this man. He knew how to dance improperly.
They stood face to face. They laid hands on each other. As he felt the man in his grasp, Laughing Boy saw all red. He and his enemy were alone in space with anger. He heaved with all his skill and strength, like one possessed. The other grunted and strained, then suddenly gave way—a fall.
Red Man arose puzzled and angry. He went at the next bout seriously. He would have liked to foul, but he was afraid of Hurries to War. Laughing Boy, staring over his opponent’s shoulder, saw Slim Girl’s face as she watched, half smiling. Again he ceased seeing, his jaws clamped fiercely together, he gripped close and lifted, then over—now! A fall, and a hard one.
Red Man was shaken, and came into the next bout without confidence. The fall he got was worse than the others.
“Take the goods,” Hill Singer told the winner.
“Put up your horse, and try again. You might get your belt back,” Laughing Boy mocked.
“We are going to play Tset Dilth on the fourth night, then bring your belts.” Red Man was feeling the back of his head.
“I shall be there.”
Laughing Boy gathered up his winnings. He looked around. Slim Girl had disappeared. He was hungry. He hunted up Jesting Squaw’s Son.
“It is noon. Let us go eat.”