“Not I, Sam Parker. I am a modern man and have thrown off the superstitions of the ignorant past.”.And he smiled softly.
“Go ahead and laugh at me, then,” invited Sam. “There was a guy named Collins, though, who thought there might be some connection between today’s music and a crazy sort of mind contact I don’t really understand, At first I thought he was nutty as a loon. Now…”
“Do you know, Sam Parker, an interesting thing has come about.” John Whitehorse leaned close. “For the first time in this land a generation of whites is growing up that is concerned about the earth and the plants and animals that are their brothers. Is it so surprising that they should be more responsive to their music? Music is the key to so many things. That they should feel deeper and believe stronger and think purer thoughts than you and yours?
“Perhaps it may take one more generation. But as always happens things will come full round one day, and the Indian will have a way to reclaim what is his.”
“Yeah, well, I appreciate that, Mr. Whitehorse.” The old man’s sudden earnestness made Sam nervous. After all, the guy’d lost his son, and now his grandson. He could be pardoned an occasional private madness. Sara stood.
“If you’ll excuse me now, I’ve got to make a connecting flight to New York.
206
Wolfstroker
“Willie had a great gift for lyrics and music, that’s all. Maybe unique. It won’t happen again, but it was great while he had it. You’ll forgive me if I find your picture of adolescent medicine men taking over the country just a little amusing.”