And indeed, this is a man without a country, because he not only doesn't fit in with the white man, he doesn't mesh with the older people within his culture. The antagonist in this story is the white man's world of greed and "civilization." The values that the white man holds certainly clash with the Indian. The white man's beauty is in palm trees of California (that stand "stiffly" by the roadside while a struggling pine tree on a rocky outcropping is more beautiful), and the white man's beauty is also rows of fruit trees like military men all lined up perfectly. That is a man-made world, made by the antagonist in this story. The antagonist in this story is also the sociology professor "and his professing"; this professor won't have to worry about his student anymore and the student won't have to worry about "some man's opinion of my ideas." Besides, thinking is much easier for the Indian "while looking at dancing flames." And though the Indian was lonely in California, he will never be lonely because he loves "the snow and the pines," and he could never be lonely when the pines "are wearing white shawls and [the] snow crunches underfoot." So he personifies the trees, making them women, and loves the smell of wood smoke coming from chimneys.

A million people live in the city, but they walk around "without seeing one another" and the city itself sucks "the life from all the country around." He puts several of the antagonists in one grouping: "A city with stores and police and intellectuals and criminals..." And so to the...

The protagonist has arrived at the peaceful place far from the classrooms of California, and they call it a reservation. The people in the box houses of the reservation have "dreams as beautiful as white snow on a tall pine."
Those dreams symbolize pure thinking, and the northern lights swirling around in the night sky "seem to pulsate with the rhythm of the drums." All of nature is in tune with everything in the natural world, and this is the protagonist's nirvana. But he still has doubts: "Am I an Indian, or am I white?" He decides that he is indeed an Indian, and once he is in the lodge he realizes that his people are "not sharing words - they are sharing a mood." He has become so accustomed to being around white people it seems strange that all the people in the lodge could be together and yet saying nothing. One can glean from this passage that in the antagonist's world, the spoken word is required; but in the Native world, "eyes laugh" with the protagonist's eyes. Just a nod of the head, and a sparking eye, are all the communication that is necessary to show that the natural world is alive and well. And the protagonist is home.

Works Cited

Whitecloud, Tom. Blue Winds Dancing.