It went down more easily, a second half-mug, nearer full than the last, on his empty stomach.
“T’o Tlakai and children.” He said out loud, “I want some children.” And began to feel sorry for himself. Then he began to feel sick. He felt very sick. Everything was dark and whirling, and he was miserable. He fell upon the floor, hiding his eyes to see if things wouldn’t stay still. Immediately the floor began to rise on end, higher and higher; soon he would be pitched against the wall. He opened his eyes, the floor went back to level, but the whole business span. Then he was racked. The world heaved and bucked, waters roared in his ears. Then he went out completely.
She, too, was tired when she came in, having been kept back by the storm. She looked down on him, heaved a sigh, and then smiled as a mother might whose child had done something forbidden and hurt himself just enough to learn a lesson. Very gently, she pulled him so that his head lay in the ashes. One arm fell across his spew. She put the uncorked bottle beside him, where he would smell the stuff when he came to. She nodded to herself. It was well enough, lucky to have happened just like this. It would teach him. The place did not smell very well. She took some food and a blanket, and went up to the tree on top of the bluff.
III
The corn matured and was harvested. Seedling peaches that he had set out began to lose their leaves. First frost appeared in the night. The season of thunderstorms had passed; now was the time when one might say the names of the gods. Laughing Boy, riding herd, felt the tang in the air and touched his bow. This was good hunting weather, if one could go to the mountains. Down here there was nothing save the usual prairie dogs, coyotes, and jack rabbits. He began to feel restless.
One day he met two braves dressed in all their best and fanciest, one on a roan and one on a pinto. His own horse, freshly caught, was prancing as he rode up to them; theirs were lively.
“Ahalani!”
“Ahalani, Grandfather!”
“Where are you going?”
“To dance at Chilbito. And you, say?”
“Just riding around. I have horses here.”
“You have a good horse.”
“He is pretty good. I got him from a Hopi. Let us race.”
“Good. How much will you bet?”
“Five dollars.”
“That is too much for us; bet three.”
“Good. To that tree there?”
“All right.”
Hé! His horse did well. Too bad he didn’t have the bay. “E-é-é-ya! Come on now, my horse, come on, Grandfather!” Three horses tearing neck and neck, three men bent over their manes, urging. The pinto was nosing ahead. Laughing Boy pressed in his heels, his belly drew tight with the thrill of motion.
They hurtled past the tree, the pinto slightly ahead, and drew rein, laughing.
“You win, Grandfather.”
The man received his money.
“I am sorry I did not have my bay horse here. He is much faster than this one.”
“Bring your bay horse to the dance. There may be some racing, I think.”
“What dance is it?”
“A Night Chant. Wind Singer is leading it.”
“I shall think about coming.”
“It is only a five-day dance. It is for Twice Brave; he has not much money, they say. You had better come soon.”
“What made him sick?”
“He looked at his mother-in-law; he spoke to her, they say.”
“Ei-yei! How did that happen?”
“They lived near each other. When his wife was away, she got his food for him, they say. He came too soon and saw her. She covered her face, but he spoke to her, they say.”
“He spoke to her! He is crazy, I think.”
“Perhaps he is; he does strange things. When the missionary at Tsé Tlchi used to serve beans, a lot of us went to hear him. He held a sing every seven days, and afterwards there were beans, but there was no dancing. We followed the Jesus Road until he stopped giving us beans. Then Twice Brave went back and stole a lot of red t’oghlepai that he had, it was something to do with his religion. It was good. But when he had drunk a lot of it, he went and made his horse drink it. He put the bottle down its mouth and made it take it, the way he had seen an American do. He made his horse crazy, just like a man. I saw it. It couldn’t walk straight. And now he has spoken to his mother-in-law, they say. So he has a bad toothache. You should come to the dance.”
“Ei! I should like to see that man. I shall come if I can.”
He was glad that the season of the great dances was returning. As he rode home, he thought that it would be good to see the gods once more, perhaps to know the holy fear and exaltation when one swallowed the sacred arrows inside the Dark Circle of Branches. He loved the gatherings of people, the huge fires, and the holy things. There was religious experience and high thought, and then there was sociability on a large scale. Sometimes there were horse-races or a chicken-pull or gambling.
He had not thought about these things for so long, or at least he had thought of them distantly, himself apart. As a blanket and its design before dawn is seen, but has no colours, then with clear light grows vivid in red and green and yellow, so the feeling of his tribe swept over him. It was exhilarating.
IV
He spoke about it to her after supper. “There is to be a Night Chant over at Chilbito, by Tseye Buckho. There may be racing.”
“How long will the song last?” There was no reason in the world why they should not go. She was
