On one day, when autumn had begun to take the weight out of the noon sunshine, he sat basking on a hillock, smoking, with his pony beside him. He was lazily content, and comfortable enough within himself not to mind the sight of a human approaching. He felt like talking to someone.
The jogging dot drew nearer. Still looking black, the motion of the shoulders told that it was an Indian. Yes, and probably a Navajo, with a flaming scarlet headband. Laughing Boy sat up straight. He knew that bald-faced chestnut, he knew that swing of the whip hand. He made sure. He was surprised, curious, and delighted. What brought his friend so far from home? He rose to his feet. Jesting Squaw’s Son slowed from lope to trot, to a walk, and stopped beside him.
“Ei-yei, my friend!” Laughing Boy took his hand. “It is good to see you!”
“My friend.” He smiled, but he dismounted slowly, and his eyes were hurt. “I am glad to find you.”
“Sit down. A cigarette?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just riding around.”
“What is the news at T’o Tlakai?”
“All well. Your people are all well. Your sister, the one who married Bay Horse, has a son. The other one has just married Yellow Foot’s Son.”
“Good.”
“There has been good rain, and the traders are paying twenty, twenty-five cents for wool.”
“Good.”
“And you, tell?”
“All well. Our goods sell well, the corn was fine this year. All well.”
They smoked.
“It is good to see you.”
Jesting Squaw’s Son made no answer. Laughing Boy studied him; he was too quiet.
“What brings you so far from home?”
“Nothing, just riding around.”
“You will come to our hogan?”
“Yes.”
They finished their cigarettes, and sat looking at nothing. There was a pleasant, afternoon feeling that tended to make talk slow, the smell of the warm sand, quietness. After about five minutes, Laughing Boy said:
“You might as well show me your true thought. It is all around you like a cloud. It is what you are thinking of all the time you are talking about anything else. You are hurt. What hurts you, whom I have called friend, hurts me.”
“You are right. Give me tobacco.”
He rolled another cigarette and smoked it through before he began to speak.
“You remember that joke we played on Narrow Nose at Gomulli T’o? Do you suppose we did anything bad by accident? Did we start any evil working?”
“What makes you think that?”
“You remember, I said I was bringing back a wife from Maito. That made me wonder. I went to Maito a little while ago.” He was looking at the tips of his fingers. Now he paused.
“We wanted to trade a cow for some sheep. Your brother and White Goat and I were riding along. We saw a Pah-Ute driving a cow he had taken from the Mormons, so we took it away from him. There is no pasture for cattle up there, but we heard of a man at Maito who kept a herd. So we took it down to him. His name is Alkali Water.
“The cow was pretty thin. We were there three nights trading on it.
“I saw his daughter. At the end of the first day I knew that I had been born only for her, that that was what I had always been waiting for. I was all one piece, everything in me was to one purpose. I do not know how to say it.”
“I know.”
“Yes, you know. That is why I am here. I know now why good men sometimes have to do with other people’s wives. I have learned a great deal about myself.
“I shall not try to say what she looked like. What would be the use? She was not small, like your wife; she was strong. Her eyes and mouth were beautiful, she was beautiful, and you could see beauty inside her by her eyes and her mouth.
“We stayed there for three nights, for three nights and two days I was watching her and listening to her. I think she felt as I did; we did not speak to each other, hardly at all. When we went away she looked at me.
“I waited a few days at home. I was very happy; I did not know such happiness could exist. Then I returned to Maito. I wanted to see her again, to be sure, and to find out her clan before I asked my mother to ask for her. I did not want anyone to be able to object, as they might, since she did not live near us.
“I cannot make up songs as you do, but I made up a pretty good one. I sang all along the trail. I neared her hogan galloping and singing the Wildcat Song. She was coming out along the trail towards me. I galloped close to her and reined up short, in a handsome way. She came beside my horse and laid her hand on its neck.
“ ‘My friend,’ she said.
“I was so happy then
