May 26, 1906.] 
FOREST -AN Disid REAM: 
825 
—— ee en 
— — = 

supplied with meat and skins, and he was a suc- 
cessful warrior, too, as his large herd of horses 
testified. He was so devoted to his pretty little 
woman that he never went out to gamble of an 
evening, nor invited parties to gamble in his 
lodge; they played too long. Feasts were well 
enough, for they were soon over, and he loved 
the quiet evenings, just he and his woman chat- 
ting by the fire after the guests had gone. Some- 
times, when The Lark was chipping a robe, and 
it was too cold to sit outside and talk to her 
while she worked, Fisher strolled away to the 
nearest wheel game and played for a while. 
He was quite expert at it and won more fre- 
quently than he lost. But one evil day he played 
against a young man named Glancing Arrow, 
and lost ten head of horses. I was busy trading 
in our lodge, but from time to time I got news 
of the game, and listened to the comments on 
it. Glancing Arrow, it seemed, had himself 
wanted to set up a lodge with The Lark. Her 
parents, for reasons unknown—he was a rich 
young man—had rejected his gift of horses and 
given her to the Fisher, who was not nearly 
so well off. This had pleased every one, for the 
Fisher was loved by every one, but Glancing 
Arrow was a surly, crossed-grained, miserly sort 
of a fellow, and had not a single close friend. He 
had never married, and once had been heard to say 
that he would yet have The Lark for his woman. 
“Fisher is crazy to gamble with him,” said 
one of my customers. ‘To gamble with the 
best player in the camp, and the man who is his 
enemy. Yes, he is certainly crazy.” 
There was more news the next morning. Sore 
over his loss, the Fisher had sought out Glanc- 
ing Arrow, played the bone game with him 
nearly all night, and he had lost twelve more 
horses! In the course of the forenoon The 
Lark came over to visit Nat-ah’-ki, and-I was 
called into the conference. The woman was cry- 
ing and sorely distressed. “He is sleeping now,” 
she said, “but when he awakes he is going to 
play with Glancing Arrow again. I have begged 
him not to, but for the first time he refuses to 
listen to me. All he will say is, ‘I shall play; [ 
shall win back my horses.’ Just think, twenty- 
two horses are already lost, nearly half of our 
band, and to that dog Glancing Arrow! Were it 
any one else who had won them, I would not 
care so much; but to him! to him!’ And her 
sobs checked her words for a time. 
“Go over and talk with him,’ she continued. 
“He thinks much of you; will listen to your 
words; go and talk him out of this madness.” 
I walked over to their lodge and found the 
Fisher still in bed, lying propped up on one arm 
and staring moodily at the fire. “You needn’t 
say it,” he began, before I could open my mouth. 
“T know why you have come in; she sent you 
to ask me to play no more, but I’m not going 
to stop. I can’t stop until I have won back 
all that I have lost.” 
Otimookeiere, Ll put in. © You may lose 
more if you keep on, perhaps all you have, for 
I hear Glancing Arrow is the most skilful of all 
the players. Just think how much you are risk- 
ing; what a shame it would be were you to be 
set afoot, no horses with which to move camp, 
-not even one for your woman to ride.” — 
“Oh! that could not happen,” he said con- 
fidently. “I could not lose them all. No, there 
is no use of your talking. I must play again with 
him, and I’m sure that I will win. I shall pray. 
I shall make a sacrifice. I must win.” 
A howling southwest wind set in before noon, 
so there was no gambling w:th the disk and 
arrows. The other game could not be played 
in the daytime, according to the ancient custom, 
lest bad luck befall one and all of the players. 
The sun had not long set, however, before they 
began again, the Fisher and Glancing Arrow, in 
the lodge of Heavy Top. A big crowd gathered 
there to witness it, and to encourage the Fisher, 
whom every one loved as much as his opponent 
was despised. The Lark came over to our lodge 
and sat with Nat-ah’-ki, who tried to cheer her 
up with encouraging words, and stories that might 
direct her thoughts from her trouble. But she was 
not to be amused and kept saying that she felt that 
something dreadful was going to happen. Time 
and again she went out and stood by the lodge 
in which the gambling was going on, listening 
and returning to tell us how the game pro- 
gressed. “He has lost another horse,’ she 
would say; “they are going one by one.” Once 
she reported that the Fisher had won one back. 
“But he’ll lose it in the next game,” she con- 
cluded despondingly and began to cry. 
“Oh! do go over there and put a stop to it,” 
Nat-ah’-ki entreated me. “Do something, say 
something to end it.” 
I went, utterly at a loss what to do, quite 
sure that I was setting out on a useless errand, 
but still I went. The lodge was crowded, but 
room was made and I found a seat well to the 
back of it, and near the players. When the 
Fisher saw me, he frowned and shook his head, 
as much as to say: “Leave me alone.” And, 
indeed, before that crowd I felt that I was 
powerless; that I could neither entreat nor ad- 
vise him to stop playing and go home. 
By the side of Glancing Arrow lay a little 
heap of small, red-painted, cylindrical sticks, 
used for markers, and each one represented a 
horse that he had won. I looked over in front 
of his opponent and counted seven more sticks. 
The Fisher had, then, but seven horses left. 
“We will play for two head this time,” he said 
and threw two sticks out on the ground be- 
tween them. The other placed a like number be- 
side them, and the Fisher took the bones, one 
red-painted, the other with with black bands. 
They began the song, the onlookers also joining 
in and beating time on the couch rail. Manipu- 
lating the little bones, the Fisher deftly passed 
them from one hand to the other, back and 
forth, back and forth, carried his hands with 
the robe folded across his lap, while he changed 
them there; then, at the conclusion of the song, 
he suddenly extended both fists toward his ad- 
versary, looking him steadily in the eyes. Rais- 
ing his clenched right hand, forefinger extended, 
Glancing Arrow slapped it down into the palm 
of his left hand, the forefinger pointing at the 
left fist. The Fisher reluctantly opened it and 
exposed to view the black-banded bone. He had 
lost, and had now but five horses. He picked 
up the markers, counted and recounted them, 
divided them into parts of two and three, tow 
twos and one, and then bunching them, said: 
“These are the last. I will play you for the five 
head.” 
Glancing Arrow smiled; a cruel, sinister smile 
it was, and his evil little eyes sparkled. His 
eyes were set unusually close together in his 
hatchet-like face, and his large nose was very 
thin, and bowed owl-beak-like over his thin lips. 
His countenance always reminded me of the 
picture you see on tins of deviled ham. He 
made no comment on this raise of the stakes, 
but quickly laid out his five markers, and picked 
up the bones. Again the song began, and 
swelling out his. bosom, he sang loudest of 
all, crossed his hands forth and back, up and 
down, fore fingers crookedly extended. He 
rubbed them together, opened them and ex- 
posed the black-banded bone, now in one palm, 
now in the other, changing it so quickly that the 
observer was bewildered, or made certain that 
the bone still remained in the hand where he 
had last seen it, only to find that it had in some 
way been slipped into the other one. It was 
the latter ruse which deceived Fisher, for the 
instant the song ceased he pointed to the 
player’s right hand, and the losing bone was 
tossed to him from it. 
“Well,” he said, “I have still a rifle, a lodge, 
a saddle, war-clothes, blankets and robes. I 
will bet them all against ten head of horses.” 
“Ten it is,’ Glancing Arrow agreed, laying out 
ten markers, and again manipulating the bones 
as the song was renewed: But this time the song 
was not so strong. Some, perhaps from the 
acute interest they had in this last unusual stake, 
or because they wished to show their disap- 
proval, did not sing at all, and those who did 
were half-hearted about it. And, as usual, 
Glancing Arrow won, won and laughed wickedly, 
loudly. The Fisher shivered as if from cold, 
drew his robe about him, preparing to leave. 
“Come over to-morrow,” he said, “and I will 
turn it all over to you—the horses and every- 
thing else.” 
“Wait!” Glancing Arrow 
arose. “I will give you one more chance; I will 
give you the chance to get back everything you 
have lost; I will bet everything I have won from 
you against your woman.” 
Every one present clapped his hand to his 
mouth in surprise, and there were exclamations, 
deep and heartfelt, of horror and disapproval. 
“The dog!” one said. ‘Knock him on the 
head!” cried another. “Throw him out!” others 
exclaimed. 
Bue Glancing Arrow did not heed them; he 
sat nonchalantly bunching and counting his 
markers, the cruel smile still on his lips, the evil 
fire in his beady eyes. The Fisher shivered 
again, arose and passed around to the doorway. 
There he stopped and stood like one in a trance. 
Could it be, I wondered, that he was even cuu- 
sidering the offer? I arose, too, and went over 
to him. “Come home with me,” I said. “Come 
to my lodge; your woman awaits you there.” 
“Ves, go, go!’ said others. “Go home with 
him.” 
But he shook my hand from his shoulder and 
quickly returned to his seat. “Begin!” he cried 
to his adversary. “We will play. We will play 
for her’—and he added under his breath, “tor 
her and another thing.” 
Perhaps Glancing Arrow did not hear the 
latter part of the sentence, or, if he did, he made 
no sign. He picked up the bones and began to 
sing, but no one joined in, not even the Fisher, 
and looking at the rows of sullen, scowling faces 
staring at him, he faltered, but kept on with it 
in a manner to the end, and extended his closed 
hands before him. There ensued a moment ot 
tense silence. Breasts heaved and eyes flashed, 
and if wishes could have killed, Glancing Arrow 
had died where he sat. I myself, in spite of my 
raising, felt an almost uncontrollable desire to 
spring upon him, bury my fingers in his throat 
exclaimed, as he 
