Reckon with me now!' And there was no use for the moment to oppose that strange side. I -- the thinking Helen Rayner, was powerless. Oh yes, I had such thoughts even when the branches were stinging my face and I was thrilling to the bay of the hound. Once my horse fell and threw me. . . . You needn't look alarmed. It was fine. I went into a soft place and was unhurt. But when I was sailing through the air a thought flashed: this is the end of me! It was like a dream when you are falling dreadfully. Much of what I felt and thought on that chase must have been because of what I have studied and read and taught. The reality of it, the action and flash, were splendid. But fear of danger, pity for the chased lion, consciousness of foolish risk, of a reckless disregard for the serious responsibility I have taken -- all these worked in my mind and held back what might have been a sheer physical, primitive joy of the wild moment."Dale listened intently, and after Helen had finished he studied the fire and thoughtfully poked the red embers with his stick. His face was still and serene, untroubled and unlined, but to Helen his eyes seemed sad, pensive, expressive of an unsatisfied yearning and wonder. She had carefully and earnestly spoken, because she was very curious to hear what he might say.
"I understand you," he replied, presently. "An' I'm sure surprised that I can. I've read my books -- an' reread them, but no one ever talked like that to me. What I make of it is this. You've the same blood in you that's in Bo. An' blood is stronger than brain. Remember that blood is life. It would be good for you to have it run an' beat an' burn, as Bo's did. Your blood did that a thousand years or ten thousand before intellect was born in your ancestors.
Instinct may not be greater than reason, but it's a million years older. Don't fight your instincts so hard. If they were not good the God of Creation would not have given them to you. To-day your mind was full of self-restraint that did not altogether restrain. You couldn't forget yourself. You couldn't FEEL only, as Bo did. You couldn't be true to your real nature.""I don't agree with you," replied Helen, quickly. "I don't have to be an Indian to be true to myself.""Why, yes you do," said Dale.
"But I couldn't be an Indian," declared Helen, spiritedly.
"I couldn't FEEL only, as you say Bo did. I couldn't go back in the scale, as you hint. What would all my education amount to -- though goodness knows it's little enough -- if I had no control over primitive feelings that happened to be born in me?""You'll have little or no control over them when the right time comes," replied Dale. "Your sheltered life an' education have led you away from natural instincts. But they're in you an' you'll learn the proof of that out here.""No. Not if I lived a hundred years in the West," asserted Helen.
"But, child, do you know what you're talkin' about?"Here Bo let out a blissful peal of laughter.
"Mr. Dale!" exclaimed Helen, almost affronted. She was stirred. "I know MYSELF, at least.""But you do not. You've no idea of yourself. You've education, yes, but not in nature an' life. An' after all, they are the real things. Answer me, now -- honestly, will you?""Certainly, if I can. Some of your questions are hard to answer.""Have you ever been starved?" he asked.
"No," replied Helen.
"Have you ever been lost away from home ?"
"No."
"Have you ever faced death -- real stark an' naked death, close an' terrible?""No, indeed."
"Have you ever wanted to kill any one with your bare hands?""Oh, Mr. Dale, you -- you amaze me. No! . . . No!""I reckon I know your answer to my last question, but I'll ask it, anyhow. . . . Have you ever been so madly in love with a man that you could not live without him?"Bo fell off her seat with a high, trilling laugh. "Oh, you two are great!""Thank Heaven, I haven't been," replied Helen, shortly.
"Then you don't know anythin' about life," declared Dale, with finality.
Helen was not to be put down by that, dubious and troubled as it made her.
"Have you experienced all those things?" she queried, stubbornly.
"All but the last one. Love never came my way. How could it?
I live alone. I seldom go to the villages where there are girls. No girl would ever care for me. I have nothin'. . . .
But, all the same, I understand love a little, just by comparison with strong feelin's I've lived."Helen watched the hunter and marveled at his simplicity. His sad and penetrating gaze was on the fire, as if in its white heart to read the secret denied him. He had said that no girl would ever love him. She imagined he might know considerably less about the nature of girls than of the forest.
"To come back to myself," said Helen, wanting to continue the argument. "You declared I didn't know myself. That Iwould have no self-control. I will!"
"I meant the big things of life," he said, patiently.
"What things?"
"I told you. By askin' what had never happened to you Ilearned what will happen."
"Those experiences to come to ME!" breathed Helen, incredulously. "Never!""Sister Nell, they sure will -- particularly the last-named one -- the mad love," chimed in Bo, mischievously, yet believingly.
Neither Dale nor Helen appeared to hear her interruption.
"Let me put it ******r," began Dale, evidently racking his brain for analogy. His perplexity appeared painful to him, because he had a great faith, a great conviction that he could not make clear. "Here I am, the natural physical man, livin' in the wilds. An' here you come, the complex, intellectual woman. Remember, for my argument's sake, that you're here. An' suppose circumstances forced you to stay here. You'd fight the elements with me an' work with me to sustain life. There must be a great change in either you or me, accordin' to the other's influence. An' can't you see that change must come in you, not because of anythin' superior in me -- I'm really inferior to you -- but because of our environment? You'd lose your complexity. An' in years to come you'd be a natural physical woman, because you'd live through an' by the physical.""Oh dear, will not education be of help to the Western woman?" queried Helen, almost in despair.
"Sure it will," answered Dale, promptly. "What the West needs is women who can raise an' teach children. But you don't understand me. You don't get under your skin. I reckon I can't make you see my argument as I feel it. You take my word for this, though. Sooner or later you WILL wake up an' forget yourself. Remember."
"Nell, I'll bet you do, too," said Bo, seriously for her.
"It may seem strange to you, but I understand Dale. I feel what he means. It's a sort of shock. Nell, we're not what we seem. We're not what we fondly imagine we are. We've lived too long with people -- too far away from the earth. You know the Bible says something like this: 'Dust thou art and to dust thou shalt return.' Where DO we come from?"