Read Online The People: And Other Uncollected Fiction by Bernard Malamud - Free Book Online Page A

his legs. He slapped my mouth but the other whites called him off.”
    “If I had seen that I would have killed him,” said Indian Head.
    “Why did they come here, these men?” Jozip asked.
    “Six of them appeared on their ponies,” One Blossom said, “and they told us we would have to leave our valley in thirty days. They said the valley belonged to them, and the tribe must leave. I told them they were liars, and they listened as if their tongues had turned to stone. Some of the women began to shout and cry. The Americans said they would come back after our hunters returned. What can we do?”
    “We have our papers that your father signed them,” Jozip said. “If we stay here and don’t make trouble for them, they should not make trouble for us.”
    “They are whites,” she said. “They don’t think as we do. And I don’t want to go to another valley. I have lived all my life here.”
    “Maybe we should get a lawyer?” Jozip asked Indian Head.
    “We have no rights in their thoughts,” he said. “When they get ready to drive us out they will try it. They have their Winchester rifles, and we only have bows and arrows and small voices.”
    “I will tulk to them,” Jozip said. “And I will say we will not move from here because this is our land. Maybe if we tulk to them soft, they will answer soft.”
    The Indians spoke among themselves and then disbanded.
    Jozip sat with his head full of difficult thoughts.
    The next day a crier called out the approach of twenty white men on horses.
    Jozip appeared instantly from his tepee, where he had been drinking tea brewed from valley plants he had discovered. He put on his war bonnet and, going out to the white men, asked them to state their business.

    “Who might you be?” asked a tall rider wearing a blue military cape. He had thin lips and a long jaw. His eyes were deep-socketed and he made no attempt to smile.
    “I am Jozip, who is now the chief of this tribe. We are the People. I did not ask for this honor but they gave it to me anyway, so I tulk to you like the chief.”
    “I am Colonel Gunther of Fort Boise,” said the visitor in a husky voice. He unbuttoned his cape and cleared his throat. “The Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Mr. Horace Sedgewick in Washington, D.C., has ordered me to inform the people of your tribe that the Great White Father in Washington has lost patience with you for not obeying his orders. Now I will tell you this: The U.S. government has once more decided to extend your time of departure for thirty days beginning today, with no further extensions. I am here to say that if you haven’t left these surroundings within that stated thirty days, the cavalry at Fort Boise will round you up and deliver you to a reservation of our choice.”
    “So where is this reservation, tell us?” Jozip said. “We hear about such a reservation but nobody says to us where it is. Is it in the sky maybe? Who will move us there? Maybe twelve eagles that they come from the sky?”
    “I can’t provide you with any information any more specific than the message that I have just delivered,” replied Colonel Jacob Gunther. “But if I were you I would certainly make ready to leave this area pronto.”
    “Please, Mr. Cohnel, I will speak to you with soft words. This is the valley of our tribe. The Great White Father gave to us this valley and also our Chief Joseph signed the papers. For fifteen years our people lived here and also they have fished here in our big river, and we love this earth and bury in it our dead.”
    Jozip said that from the time of Quodish the valley had belonged to the red man. “If the Great White Father wants now to have the valley back, he must give us another place where we can live, and which is as good as this valley. We must have someplace to go and live there, otherwise we will be like animals.”
    “We have our papers,” said the colonel. “You are Indians and not citizens of our country. You are dealing with the