RECOLLECTIONS OF AN INDIAN AGENT. 259 with fir pitch and dirt, and reached well down upon his shoulders. He was lousy beyond anything known of white children, and although he knew by trial that combing his helmet of hair was entirely out of the category of practica- bilities, he was so passionately proud of his long hair that he resisted all attempts to shorten it. When John turned the boy over to me he said to him, "Charlie, you are to stay here with my brother for a while; he will take care of you and send you to school and you must do as he wishes you to do. Mind whatever he says and be a good boy." Charlie gave his assent and school began. The first thing on the program was to clear the boy of lice, which could be done in no other way than to cut his hair close to his head. To this he said "No" with a firmness of tone that had deterred his other teachers. "Charlie, you have come to stay in my family, but while the lice are on you, you cannot have clean clothes, sleep in a good bed, go anywhere or be anybody. In fact, you cannot stay in the house. Do you not see that your hair must come off?" Still that defiant negative which had caused others to respect his so-called rights. I took the shears and advanced toward him. A forbidding frown took possession of his face, his black eyes were fixed on me with a most obstinate expression, and backing to the wall he held up both arms in an attitude of defense. ' ' Charlie, you put me in mind of the sheep. Of a hot day, when they would feel better with the wool off, they try to get away, but we have to catch them, hold them down and shear off the wool, and I see that you have no more sense than a sheep." At this I took hold of him without any show of indignation on my part, laid him upon the floor, sat astride of him, holding his arms down with my legs, and began shearing him. "Hold your head still; you are acting again like sheep that flounce around and get pieces cut out of their hides. Whoa. ' '
