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9H W B M m m 1 1 W.V < p s .’^Ci \& 13 We nacl araggecr lire man s a c s u.p through m e ira-grant trails of the chaparral and had spilled its contents on the floor of our little high nouae u* a s. v « i- . And our Yellow Cat was there waiting to see what the mail sack had brought us, ana „ ~ that maybe, as it som etim es hap- The P a s s in g o j there would be som ething a Great to bother us and that might be too American Artist deep for us to fathom. And that ? we might stand In need o f the lore o f Egypt. And so, our Yellow Cat r t o o O jr T t n n s 7 ® low coat o f wisdom, ready as he always is, to render «c .uu «o<l tot». P » » ? > " “ J ™ b u ..t... weld. K f f were able to give In t h e ancient throngh the long ledge has 8in“ Well, things went rather centuries to Yellow c ft 8pen, and our quietly with the ma . on the hearth in the Yellow Cat had gone to . ®L, n0 doubt, that there warmth of the wood fire, thinking, q£ h,8 wl8. would be nothing to « U to when< all 0t a eud-- w dom from the m y fe iie s n here, we shouted. ketrv of the American Indians Is ranked high In art, den< we shouted, here, . ” 7r " H ere t8 a message and the great authorities on the arts ars on record Js something to cause u f the Faithful, wo sayingthat “ the basket work o f the Washoe Indians I. from a m e m b e r ^ o t t h e I J e r f c a n artist has the most exquisite end artistic to the wor said, which te ‘ a w mystical Beyond, lear- 1m l D at-slla-lee was the meet wonderful o f H the p a w d from this world m to the m> W ashoe basket weavers. And now she n<) ™ ' ing us all the c , was the artist a woman, tireless hands are folded. Her feet wander ™ ( So? said our Yellow Cat. ana was In the Valley o f the Eagles where her eyes first• ® ^ and what was her ’ answered. She was a the light of day and where ' X Her na® « were pitched since time ong a voices calling to her, woman o |® ^ where she was bo-u. and with When Dat-so-la-lee heard v o i c e s ^ * ^ ^ the Eagles. ,n tho Big Sleep from and she knew that * er “ f £ ™ ; £ g Grounds. she asked «g» awake until Gabriel winds his horn s S s s x s t a i s r i s s r s - J W . 1s r s a s i ss-s ss a - - - ** -*“ » — ? The r e , ________________ ? dtun Bureau would uat.30-Ia-lee m l , and tint r " s i s s - r s - j : r r x s . - the th l»g . t b i l C W " « ? » “ «> *hA Indian Bureau would do? we asked. ^ O u r Yellow Cat gave no answer. Instead there was a faraway look in his amber eyes— a look that seemed X s e l the forgotten centuries of time passing In ghost- , y review with all the wrongs and errors o f thpaghUess time wrapped to^thelj^nieted J gld s. ^ ^ ^ m m m * syoi iiaiiKiI 1 SB mPBmS mmm. mmi