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58 Tate Boy her: he was the perfect implement delivered to her} hands; he was an axe with which to hew down the past; he was a light with which to see her war back to her people, to the good things of he] people. She held him up against the past, matrors] and teachers at school, platitudes and well-meaz-| ing lies. And now, for all their care and train ing and preaching, she was ‘gomg back to thel blanket,” because under the blanket were the things worth while, and all the rest was hideous, With her knowledge and experience, with what the Americans had taught her, she would lead this man, and make for them both the most per fect life that could be made — with an Indian, long-haired, heathen Indian, a blanket Indian, a Navajo, the names thrown out like an insult in the faces of those who bore them, of her own peop Denné, The People, proud as she was proud, an clear of heart as she could never be. There were to be no mistakes, and no chances She could tie this man to ner as surely as any prisoner; she would follow her clear plan to i victorious end. She had conquered herself, shag had conquered circumstance; emerging from the struggle not American, not Indian, mistress ¢ herself. Now from the Americans she took means, and in the Indians would achieve her end. N such an amazing end, perhaps, but strange SR he POPE SEE od RB ta oat mw wd BoM ul gra