144 “COME DUCK SHOOTING WITH ME” 
One was a star football player and had studied law. We 
chatted a little while and the football player began to 
tell his story. ‘‘Yes,’’ he said, ‘“‘I used to think with 
education the Indian would be the equal of the white 
man. It’s impossible; they have different natures, they 
think differently. I saw my mistake and came home. 
Now I am content among my own.”’ 
‘“This old world,’’ I said, ‘‘can offer no higher gift 
than contentment.’’ His face flashed into a smile, a 
smile that went straight to your heart. He seized my 
hand. ‘‘I’m glad to hear you say that,’ he said. ‘“‘I 
feared you were going to say something about that 
damned ‘Call of the blood’ thing, most all do.”’ 
‘“Tell me,’’ I said, ‘in a general way, what was the 
trouble?”’ 
‘‘T always wanted even when a boy,” he answered, ‘‘to 
be the equal of the white man. My ambition even then 
was to climb the ladder that leads to wealth and power.”’ 
“You certainly gained an education,”’ I ventured to 
Say. 
“Yes, I gained an education but I never reached my 
goal. I found out the only time an Indian stands on 
an equal footing with the white man is on the foot- 
ball field. At last I tried to practice law. An Indian 
hasn’t the staying power of the white man. He can’t 
stand failure. He needs praise, a little patting on the 
back, a little success. Why should I, an Indian chief, 
fight the petty quarrels and lawsuits of others for 
money? I left my office at the end of a year without 
even locking the door and came back to my home in the 
Territory contented to be an Indian and not play I was 
a white man.”’ 
‘‘You don’t favor Indian schools?’’ I ventured at last 
to ask. 
