The Myth of Civilization

The day was nearing its end as a rider drew rein alongside a small cabin by the Yakima River. He pondered on the immense possibilities of the valley through which he had been riding all day. If only the waters which were now running to waste could be turned on that arid land, what a paradise it would make. He could see it even now in his imagination—the green fields, the browsing cattle, the small, cozy houses and the large barns. Ah, yes; that would all come afterward, but first there were the Indians—the Indians which he had come West to civilize. Years afterward he returned to the Yakima valley. He is an old man now. His work is done, but what a change! Where once was a desert, he now sees a thriving city. And the civilized Indians, where will he find them? He notices a band of men cleaning the streets. They appear to be wearing a uniform, but when he gets closer he observes that the uniform consists of blue overalls and a black cotton shirt, and as he sees their faces, he recognizes the Indians he came West to civilize. Each one has fastened to his ankle a chain about four feet long, to the end of which is secured a large iron ball. 'Is that a new style of barbaric jewelry?' he ventures to inquire. 'Naw; they're the chain gang; pulled for being drunk and disorderly.' Turning away he sees the civilized Indian in great numbers riding bicycles and drinking whisky just like their white brothers. And the conclusion is forced upon him that, although the Indian undoubtedly appreciates the beauties of civilized government, yet 'Men are only boys grown tall, Human nature don't change much after all.'