The White Man's Way
"TO cook by your fire and to sleep under your roof for the night,"I had announced on entering old Ebbits's cabin; and he had lookedat me blear-eyed and vacuous, while Zilla had favored me with asour face and a contemptuous grunt. Zilla was his wife, and nomore bitter-tongued, implacable old squaw dwelt on the Yukon. Norwould I have stopped there had my dogs been less tired or had therest of the village been inhabited. But this cabin alone had Ifound occupied, and in this cabin, perforce, I took my shelter.Old Ebbits now and again pulled his tangled wits together, andhints and sparkles of intelligence came and went in his eyes.Several times during the preparation of my supper he even essayedhospitable inquiries about my health, the condition and number ofmy dogs, and the distance I had travelled that day. And each timeZilla had looked sourer than ever and grunted more contemptuously.Yet I confess that there was no particular call for cheerfulness ontheir part. There they crouched by the fire, the pair of them, atthe end of their days, old and withered and helpless, racked byrheumatism, bitten by hunger, and tantalized by the frying-odors ofmy abundance of meat. They rocked back and forth in a slow andhopeless way, and regularly, once every five minutes, Ebbitsemitted a low groan. It was not so much a groan of pain, as ofpain-weariness. He was oppressed by the weight and the torment ofthis thing called life, and still more was he oppressed by the fearof death. His was that eternal tragedy of the aged, with whom thejoy of life has departed and the instinct for death has not come.When my moose-meat spluttered rowdily in the frying-pan, I noticedold Ebbits's nostrils twitch and distend as he caught the food-scent. He ceased rocking for a space and forgot to groan, while alook of intelligence seemed to come into his face.Zilla, on the other hand, rocked more rapidly, and for the firsttime, in sharp little yelps, voiced her pain. It came to me thattheir behavior was like that of hungry dogs, and in the fitness ofthings I should not have been astonished had Zilla suddenlydeveloped a tail and thumped it on the floor in right doggishfashion. Ebbits drooled a little and stopped his rocking veryfrequently to lean forward and thrust his tremulous nose nearer tothe source of gustatory excitement.When I passed them each a plate of the fried meat, they ategreedily, making loud mouth-noises - champings of worn teeth andsucking intakes of the breath, accompanied by a continuousspluttering and mumbling. After that, when I gave them each a mugof scalding tea, the noises ceased. Easement and content came intotheir faces. Zilla relaxed her sour mouth long enough to sigh hersatisfaction. Neither rocked any more, and they seemed to havefallen into placid meditation. Then a dampness came into Ebbits'seyes, and I knew that the sorrow of self-pity was his. The searchrequired to find their pipes told plainly that they had beenwithout tobacco a long time, and the old man's eagerness for thenarcotic rendered him helpless, so that I was compelled to lighthis pipe for him."Why are you all alone in the village?" I asked. "Is everybodydead? Has there been a great sickness? Are you alone left of theliving?"Old Ebbits shook his head, saying: "Nay, there has been no greatsickness. The village has gone away to hunt meat. We be too old,our legs are not strong, nor can our backs carry the burdens ofcamp and trail. Wherefore we remain here and wonder when the youngmen will return with meat.""What if the young men do return with meat?" Zilla demandedharshly."They may return with much meat," he quavered hopefully."Even so, with much meat," she continued, more harshly than before."But of what worth to you and me? A few bones to gnaw in ourtoothless old age. But the back-fat, the kidneys, and the tongues- these shall go into other mouths than thine and mine, old man."Ebbits nodded his head and wept silently."There be no one to hunt meat for us," she cried, turning fiercelyupon me.There was accusation in her manner, and I shrugged my shoulders intoken that I was not guilty of the unknown crime imputed to me."Know, O White Man, that it is because of thy kind, because of allwhite men, that my man and I have no meat in our old age and sitwithout tobacco in the cold.""Nay," Ebbits said gravely, with a stricter sense of justice."Wrong has been done us, it be true; but the white men did not meanthe wrong.""Where be Moklan?" she demanded. "Where be thy strong son, Moklan,and the fish he was ever willing to bring that you might eat?"The old man shook his head."And where be Bidarshik, thy strong son? Ever was he a mightyhunter, and ever did he bring thee the good back-fat and the sweetdried tongues of the moose and the caribou. I see no back-fat andno sweet dried tongues. Your stomach is full with emptinessthrough the days, and it is for a man of a very miserable and lyingpeople to give you to eat.""Nay," old Ebbits interposed in kindliness, "the white man's is nota lying people. The white man speaks true. Always does the whiteman speak true." He paused, casting about him for words wherewithto temper the severity of what he was about to say. "But the whiteman speaks true in different ways. To-day he speaks true one way,to-morrow he speaks true another way, and there is no understandinghim nor his way.""To-day speak true one way, to-morrow speak true another way, whichis to lie," was Zilla's dictum."There is no understanding the white man," Ebbits went on doggedly.The meat, and the tea, and the tobacco seemed to have brought himback to life, and he gripped tighter hold of the idea behind hisage-bleared eyes. He straightened up somewhat. His voice lost itsquerulous and whimpering note, and became strong and positive. Heturned upon me with dignity, and addressed me as equal addressesequal."The white man's eyes are not shut," he began. "The white man seesall things, and thinks greatly, and is very wise. But the whiteman of one day is not the white man of next day, and there is nounderstanding him. He does not do things always in the same way.And what way his next way is to be, one cannot know. Always doesthe Indian do the one thing in the one way. Always does the moosecome down from the high mountains when the winter is here. Alwaysdoes the salmon come in the spring when the ice has gone out of theriver. Always does everything do all things in the same way, andthe Indian knows and understands. But the white man does not doall things in the same way, and the Indian does not know norunderstand."Tobacco be very good. It be food to the hungry man. It makes thestrong man stronger, and the angry man to forget that he is angry.Also is tobacco of value. It is of very great value. The Indiangives one large salmon for one leaf of tobacco, and he chews thetobacco for a long time. It is the juice of the tobacco that isgood. When it runs down his throat it makes him feel good inside.But the white man! When his mouth is full with the juice, whatdoes he do? That juice, that juice of great value, he spits it outin the snow and it is lost. Does the white man like tobacco? I donot know. But if he likes tobacco, why does he spit out its valueand lose it in the snow? It is a great foolishness and withoutunderstanding."He ceased, puffed at the pipe, found that it was out, and passed itover to Zilla, who took the sneer at the white man off her lips inorder to pucker them about the pipe-stem. Ebbits seemed sinkingback into his senility with the tale untold, and I demanded:"What of thy sons, Moklan and Bidarshik? And why is it that youand your old woman are without meat at the end of your years?"He roused himself as from sleep, and straightened up with aneffort."It is not good to steal," he said. "When the dog takes your meatyou beat the dog with a club. Such is the law. It is the law theman gave to the dog, and the dog must live to the law, else will itsuffer the pain of the club. When man takes your meat, or yourcanoe, or your wife, you kill that man. That is the law, and it isa good law. It is not good to steal, wherefore it is the law thatthe man who steals must die. Whoso breaks the law must sufferhurt. It is a great hurt to die.""But if you kill the man, why do you not kill the dog?" I asked.Old Ebbits looked at me in childlike wonder, while Zilla sneeredopenly at the absurdity of my question."It is the way of the white man," Ebbits mumbled with an air ofresignation."It is the foolishness of the white man," snapped Zilla."Then let old Ebbits teach the white man wisdom," I said softly."The dog is not killed, because it must pull the sled of the man.No man pulls another man's sled, wherefore the man is killed.""Oh," I murmured."That is the law," old Ebbits went on. "Now listen, O White Man,and I will tell you of a great foolishness. There is an Indian.His name is Mobits. From white man he steals two pounds of flour.What does the white man do? Does he beat Mobits? No. Does hekill Mobits? No. What does he do to Mobits? I will tell you, OWhite Man. He has a house. He puts Mobits in that house. Theroof is good. The walls are thick. He makes a fire that Mobitsmay be warm. He gives Mobits plenty grub to eat. It is good grub.Never in his all days does Mobits eat so good grub. There isbacon, and bread, and beans without end. Mobits have very goodtime."There is a big lock on door so that Mobits does not run away.This also is a great foolishness. Mobits will not run away. Allthe time is there plenty grub in that place, and warm blankets, anda big fire. Very foolish to run away. Mobits is not foolish.Three months Mobits stop in that place. He steal two pounds offlour. For that, white man take plenty good care of him. Mobitseat many pounds of flour, many pounds of sugar, of bacon, of beanswithout end. Also, Mobits drink much tea. After three monthswhite man open door and tell Mobits he must go. Mobits does notwant to go. He is like dog that is fed long time in one place. Hewant to stay in that place, and the white man must drive Mobitsaway. So Mobits come back to this village, and he is very fat.That is the white man's way, and there is no understanding it. Itis a foolishness, a great foolishness.""But thy sons?" I insisted. "Thy very strong sons and thine old-age hunger?""There was Moklan," Ebbits began."A strong man," interrupted the mother. "He could dip paddle allof a day and night and never stop for the need of rest. He waswise in the way of the salmon and in the way of the water. He wasvery wise.""There was Moklan," Ebbits repeated, ignoring the interruption."In the spring, he went down the Yukon with the young men to tradeat Cambell Fort. There is a post there, filled with the goods ofthe white man, and a trader whose name is Jones. Likewise is therea white man's medicine man, what you call missionary. Also isthere bad water at Cambell Fort, where the Yukon goes slim like amaiden, and the water is fast, and the currents rush this way andthat and come together, and there are whirls and sucks, and alwaysare the currents changing and the face of the water changing, so atany two times it is never the same. Moklan is my son, wherefore heis brave man - ""Was not my father brave man?" Zilla demanded."Thy father was brave man," Ebbits acknowledged, with the air ofone who will keep peace in the house at any cost. "Moklan is thyson and mine, wherefore he is brave. Mayhap, because of thy verybrave father, Moklan is too brave. It is like when too much wateris put in the pot it spills over. So too much bravery is put intoMoklan, and the bravery spills over."The young men are much afraid of the bad water at Cambell Fort.But Moklan is not afraid. He laughs strong, Ho! ho! and he goesforth into the bad water. But where the currents come together thecanoe is turned over. A whirl takes Moklan by the legs, and hegoes around and around, and down and down, and is seen no more.""Ai! ai!" wailed Zilla. "Crafty and wise was he, and my first-born!""I am the father of Moklan," Ebbits said, having patiently giventhe woman space for her noise. "I get into canoe and journey downto Cambell Fort to collect the debt!""Debt!" interrupted. "What debt?""The debt of Jones, who is chief trader," came the answer. "Suchis the law of travel in a strange country."I shook my head in token of my ignorance, and Ebbits lookedcompassion at me, while Zilla snorted her customary contempt."Look you, O White Man," he said. "In thy camp is a dog thatbites. When the dog bites a man, you give that man a presentbecause you are sorry and because it is thy dog. You make payment.Is it not so? Also, if you have in thy country bad hunting, or badwater, you must make payment. It is just. It is the law. Did notmy father's brother go over into the Tanana Country and get killedby a bear? And did not the Tanana tribe pay my father manyblankets and fine furs? It was just. It was bad hunting, and theTanana people made payment for the bad hunting."So I, Ebbits, journeyed down to Cambell Fort to collect the debt.Jones, who is chief trader, looked at me, and he laughed. He madegreat laughter, and would not give payment. I went to themedicine-man, what you call missionary, and had large talk aboutthe bad water and the payment that should be mine. And themissionary made talk about other things. He talk about whereMoklan has gone, now he is dead. There be large fires in thatplace, and if missionary make true talk, I know that Moklan will becold no more. Also the missionary talk about where I shall go whenI am dead. And he say bad things. He say that I am blind. Whichis a lie. He say that I am in great darkness. Which is a lie.And I say that the day come and the night come for everybody justthe same, and that in my village it is no more dark than at CambellFort. Also, I say that darkness and light and where we go when wedie be different things from the matter of payment of just debt forbad water. Then the missionary make large anger, and call me badnames of darkness, and tell me to go away. And so I come back fromCambell Fort, and no payment has been made, and Moklan is dead, andin my old age I am without fish and meat.""Because of the white man," said Zilla."Because of the white man," Ebbits concurred. "And other thingsbecause of the white man. There was Bidarshik. One way did thewhite man deal with him; and yet another way for the same thing didthe white man deal with Yamikan. And first must I tell you ofYamikan, who was a young man of this village and who chanced tokill a white man. It is not good to kill a man of another people.Always is there great trouble. It was not the fault of Yamikanthat he killed the white man. Yamikan spoke always soft words andran away from wrath as a dog from a stick. But this white mandrank much whiskey, and in the night-time came to Yamikan's houseand made much fight. Yamikan cannot run away, and the white mantries to kill him. Yamikan does not like to die, so he kills thewhite man."Then is all the village in great trouble. We are much afraid thatwe must make large payment to the white man's people, and we hideour blankets, and our furs, and all our wealth, so that it willseem that we are poor people and can make only small payment.After long time white men come. They are soldier white men, andthey take Yamikan away with them. His mother make great noise andthrow ashes in her hair, for she knows Yamikan is dead. And allthe village knows that Yamikan is dead, and is glad that no paymentis asked."That is in the spring when the ice has gone out of the river. Oneyear go by, two years go by. It is spring-time again, and the icehas gone out of the river. And then Yamikan, who is dead, comesback to us, and he is not dead, but very fat, and we know that hehas slept warm and had plenty grub to eat. He has much fineclothes and is all the same white man, and he has gathered largewisdom so that he is very quick head man in the village."And he has strange things to tell of the way of the white man, forhe has seen much of the white man and done a great travel into thewhite man's country. First place, soldier white men take him downthe river long way. All the way do they take him down the river tothe end, where it runs into a lake which is larger than all theland and large as the sky. I do not know the Yukon is so bigriver, but Yamikan has seen with his own eyes. I do not thinkthere is a lake larger than all the land and large as the sky, butYamikan has seen. Also, he has told me that the waters of thislake be salt, which is a strange thing and beyond understanding."But the White Man knows all these marvels for himself, so I shallnot weary him with the telling of them. Only will I tell him whathappened to Yamikan. The white man give Yamikan much fine grub.All the time does Yamikan eat, and all the time is there plentymore grub. The white man lives under the sun, so said Yamikan,where there be much warmth, and animals have only hair and no fur,and the green things grow large and strong and become flour, andbeans, and potatoes. And under the sun there is never famine.Always is there plenty grub. I do not know. Yamikan has said."And here is a strange thing that befell Yamikan. Never did thewhite man hurt him. Only did they give him warm bed at night andplenty fine grub. They take him across the salt lake which is bigas the sky. He is on white man's fire-boat, what you callsteamboat, only he is on boat maybe twenty times bigger thansteamboat on Yukon. Also, it is made of iron, this boat, and yetdoes it not sink. This I do not understand, but Yamikan has said,'I have journeyed far on the iron boat; behold! I am still alive.'It is a white man's soldier-boat with many soldier men upon it."After many sleeps of travel, a long, long time, Yamikan comes to aland where there is no snow. I cannot believe this. It is not inthe nature of things that when winter comes there shall be no snow.But Yamikan has seen. Also have I asked the white men, and theyhave said yes, there is no snow in that country. But I cannotbelieve, and now I ask you if snow never come in that country.Also, I would hear the name of that country. I have heard the namebefore, but I would hear it again, if it be the same - thus will Iknow if I have heard lies or true talk."Old Ebbits regarded me with a wistful face. He would have thetruth at any cost, though it was his desire to retain his faith inthe marvel he had never seen."Yes," I answered, "it is true talk that you have heard. There isno snow in that country, and its name is California.""Cal-ee-forn-ee-yeh," he mumbled twice and thrice, listeningintently to the sound of the syllables as they fell from his lips.He nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, it is the same countryof which Yamikan made talk."I recognized the adventure of Yamikan as one likely to occur in theearly days when Alaska first passed into the possession of theUnited States. Such a murder case, occurring before the instalmentof territorial law and officials, might well have been taken downto the United States for trial before a Federal court."When Yamikan is in this country where there is no snow," oldEbbits continued, "he is taken to large house where many men makemuch talk. Long time men talk. Also many questions do they askYamikan. By and by they tell Yamikan he have no more trouble.Yamikan does not understand, for never has he had any trouble. Allthe time have they given him warm place to sleep and plenty grub."But after that they give him much better grub, and they give himmoney, and they take him many places in white man's country, and hesee many strange things which are beyond the understanding ofEbbits, who is an old man and has not journeyed far. After twoyears, Yamikan comes back to this village, and he is head man, andvery wise until he dies."But before he dies, many times does he sit by my fire and maketalk of the strange things he has seen. And Bidarshik, who is myson, sits by the fire and listens; and his eyes are very wide andlarge because of the things he hears. One night, after Yamikan hasgone home, Bidarshik stands up, so, very tall, and he strikes hischest with his fist, and says, 'When I am a man, I shall journey infar places, even to the land where there is no snow, and see thingsfor myself.'""Always did Bidarshik journey in far places," Zilla interruptedproudly."It be true," Ebbits assented gravely. "And always did he returnto sit by the fire and hunger for yet other and unknown farplaces.""And always did he remember the salt lake as big as the sky and thecountry under the sun where there is no snow," quoth Zilla."And always did he say, 'When I have the full strength of a man, Iwill go and see for myself if the talk of Yamikan be true talk,'"said Ebbits."But there was no way to go to the white man's country," saidZilla."Did he not go down to the salt lake that is big as the sky?"Ebbits demanded."And there was no way for him across the salt lake," said Zilla."Save in the white man's fire-boat which is of iron and is biggerthan twenty steamboats on the Yukon," said Ebbits. He scowled atZilla, whose withered lips were again writhing into speech, andcompelled her to silence. "But the white man would not let himcross the salt lake in the fire-boat, and he returned to sit by thefire and hunger for the country under the sun where there is nosnow.'""Yet on the salt lake had he seen the fire-boat of iron that didnot sink," cried out Zilla the irrepressible."Ay," said Ebbits, "and he saw that Yamikan had made true talk ofthe things he had seen. But there was no way for Bidarshik tojourney to the white man's land under the sun, and he grew sick andweary like an old man and moved not away from the fire. No longerdid he go forth to kill meat - ""And no longer did he eat the meat placed before him," Zilla brokein. "He would shake his head and say, 'Only do I care to eat thegrub of the white man and grow fat after the manner of Yamikan.'""And he did not eat the meat," Ebbits went on. "And the sicknessof Bidarshik grew into a great sickness until I thought he woulddie. It was not a sickness of the body, but of the head. It was asickness of desire. I, Ebbits, who am his father, make a greatthink. I have no more sons and I do not want Bidarshik to die. Itis a head-sickness, and there is but one way to make it well.Bidarshik must journey across the lake as large as the sky to theland where there is no snow, else will he die. I make a very greatthink, and then I see the way for Bidarshik to go."So, one night when he sits by the fire, very sick, his headhanging down, I say, 'My son, I have learned the way for you to goto the white man's land.' He looks at me, and his face is glad.'Go,' I say, 'even as Yamikan went.' But Bidarshik is sick anddoes not understand. 'Go forth,' I say, 'and find a white man,and, even as Yamikan, do you kill that white man. Then will thesoldier white men come and get you, and even as they took Yamikanwill they take you across the salt lake to the white man's land.And then, even as Yamikan, will you return very fat, your eyes fullof the things you have seen, your head filled with wisdom.'"And Bidarshik stands up very quick, and his hand is reaching outfor his gun. 'Where do you go?' I ask. 'To kill the white man,'he says. And I see that my words have been good in the ears ofBidarshik and that he will grow well again. Also do I know that mywords have been wise."There is a white man come to this village. He does not seek aftergold in the ground, nor after furs in the forest. All the timedoes he seek after bugs and flies. He does not eat the bugs andflies, then why does he seek after them? I do not know. Only do Iknow that he is a funny white man. Also does he seek after theeggs of birds. He does not eat the eggs. All that is inside hetakes out, and only does he keep the shell. Eggshell is not goodto eat. Nor does he eat the eggshells, but puts them away in softboxes where they will not break. He catch many small birds. Buthe does not eat the birds. He takes only the skins and puts themaway in boxes. Also does he like bones. Bones are not good toeat. And this strange white man likes best the bones of long timeago which he digs out of the ground."But he is not a fierce white man, and I know he will die veryeasy; so I say to Bidarshik, 'My son, there is the white man foryou to kill.' And Bidarshik says that my words be wise. So hegoes to a place he knows where are many bones in the ground. Hedigs up very many of these bones and brings them to the strangewhite man's camp. The white man is made very glad. His faceshines like the sun, and he smiles with much gladness as he looksat the bones. He bends his head over, so, to look well at thebones, and then Bidarshik strikes him hard on the head, with axe,once, so, and the strange white man kicks and is dead."'Now,' I say to Bidarshik, 'will the white soldier men come andtake you away to the land under the sun, where you will eat muchand grow fat.' Bidarshik is happy. Already has his sickness gonefrom him, and he sits by the fire and waits for the coming of thewhite soldier men."How was I to know the way of the white man is never twice thesame?" the old man demanded, whirling upon me fiercely. "How was Ito know that what the white man does yesterday he will not do to-day, and that what he does to-day he will not do to-morrow?"Ebbits shook his head sadly. "There is no understanding the whiteman. Yesterday he takes Yamikan to the land under the sun andmakes him fat with much grub. To-day he takes Bidarshik and - whatdoes he do with Bidarshik? Let me tell you what he does withBidarshik."I, Ebbits, his father, will tell you. He takes Bidarshik toCambell Fort, and he ties a rope around his neck, so, and, when hisfeet are no more on the ground, he dies.""Ai! ai!" wailed Zilla. "And never does he cross the lake large asthe sky, nor see the land under the sun where there is no snow.""Wherefore," old Ebbits said with grave dignity, "there be no oneto hunt meat for me in my old age, and I sit hungry by my fire andtell my story to the White Man who has given me grub, and strongtea, and tobacco for my pipe.""Because of the lying and very miserable white people," Zillaproclaimed shrilly."Nay," answered the old man with gentle positiveness. "Because ofthe way of the white man, which is without understanding and nevertwice the same."
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