“Are my orders the same as yours?”
“Exactly the same—they are in duplicate.”
“Well, I am a soldier, and I do not break orders.”
This came in a tone of utter finality, and I could see that it would be useless to advance argument.
“Very good, sir. Then I suppose you will withdraw your men. This thing will go by default.”
But the Colonel had studied old Youkeoma for ten days, and actually he disliked as much as I did the accepting of stupid instructions issued by a Department that has a long record in buck-passing. And he felt that our dilemma might be solved by permitting the obdurate Indian to hang himself on the horns of it.
“Let us have in Youkeoma,” he said; “and you propose to read the telegram to him, stating plainly that these are orders from Washington. If he does not at once accept [[170]]the conditions, will you be prepared to collect the children promptly, with a squad of soldiers and your police?”
“I do not think I shall need the police, and I do not want the soldiers in the village. If you will keep the picket-guard as it is, and have a squad ready in case of trouble, I will go into the houses with two employees who know the people. I will bring out the children for medical examination. But I certainly do not propose to enter into debate with each savage as to schools, bedding, and commissary matters.”
“Will you wish to make prisoners?”
“Not unless there is positive resistance. That has been done before, and I cannot see that any good resulted. It simply indulged the ringleaders in their idea of persecution.”