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Updated: June 20, 2025
He was much occupied with his whistle, and never seemed to notice, but not a movement of the stranger escaped him, and when the Philadelphia express came by, and the stranger got aboard the parlor car, old Bi Gage swung his lumbering length up on the back platform of the last car. The hounds were hot on the trail now.
From p. 234 of 'Inglish Littracher 1890-1900' bi T. K. Nupton, publishd bi th Stait, 1992: 'Fr egzarmpl, a riter ov th time, naimd Max Beerbohm, hoo woz stil alive in th twentieth senchri, rote a stauri in wich e pautraid an immajnari karrakter kauld "Enoch Soames" a thurd-rait poit hoo beleevz imself a grate jeneus an maix a bargin with th Devvl in auder ter no wot posterriti thinx ov im!
Eleven horsemen riding into the village! He was amazed, and suddenly keenly anxious. This visit might be one of Shadd's raids. "Shadd's gang!" he whispered. "No, Bi Nai," replied Nas Ta Bega, and he drew Shefford farther into the shade of the cedars. His voice, his action, the way he kept a hand on Shefford's shoulder, all this told much to the young man. Mormons come on a night visit!
When there was still ten minutes of play the whistle blew, and Jordan, white, groggy, and weepy about the eyes, was dragged off the field. Bi had sure used him rough, but I'm not pretending Jordan hadn't come back at him. Bi's face was something fierce. The blood had dried in flakes under his nose, one eye was out of commission, and his lip was bleeding where his tooth had gone through it.
Take a what? says I. Libel action, says he, for ten thousand pounds. O hell! says I. The bloody mongrel began to growl that'd put the fear of God in you seeing something was up but the citizen gave him a kick in the ribs. Bi i dho husht, says he. Who? says Joe. Breen, says Alf.
may be cabled in this form: "Berlin 1. Chancellor Wirth told t Reichstag tdy in outlining the gvts pgn tt qn restoration & reconciliation wd b the keynote f new gvts policy. qj He added ttt cabinet ws dtmd disarmament sd b carried out loyally & tt disarmament wd n b. the ocan f imposition of further penalties bi t alis."
Herbert Hutton drew his arrogant brows in a frown of annoyance, and whirled around to placate his guide: "Now see here, you old popinjay, what's got into you?" "No, sir, I ain't nobody's papa," babbled Bi, seeing he had scored a point. "I have enough to do to support myself without any family." "That's all right, have it your own way, only shut up or we'll have somebody listening. Have a cigar.
Glen Naspa has gone to her grave, and no sisters, no children, will make paths to the place of her sleep. Nas Ta Bega will never have a wife a child. He sees the end. It is the sunset of the Navajo.... Bi Nai, the Navajo is dying dying dying!" A crescent moon hung above the lofty peak over the valley and a train of white stars ran along the bold rim of the western wall.
To the right a red canyon opened its jagged jaws, and away to the north rose a whorled and strange sea of curved ridges, crags, and domes. Nas Ta Bega rode up then, leading the pack-train. "Bi Nai, that is Na-tsis-an," he said, pointing to the mountain. "Navajo Mountain. And there in the north are the canyon."
Brotherhood that mystic and grand "Bi Nai!" of the Navajo that was religion. The night passed, the gloom turned gray, the dawn stole cool and pale into the canyon. When Nas Ta Bega drove the mustangs into camp the lofty ramparts of the walls were rimmed with gold and the dark arch of Nonnezoshe began to lose its steely gray. The women had rested well and were in better condition to travel.
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