eyes — his blood, his walk, and his soul were those of a red Indian of the West. He came from the unknown with a message to those who knew him not: “The Messiah was coming; the deliverer that Hiawatha bade them look for. He was coming in power to deliver the red race, and his people must sing the song of the ghost-dance till the spirit came, and in a vision taught them wisdom and his will!”
Not to the white man, but to the lonely Indian in the hill cleft he came, and the song that he brought and taught him was of a sorrowing people seeking their father.
“Father have pity on us! Our souls are hungry for Thee. There is nothing here to satisfy us Father we bow to Thy will.”
By the fire that night they sang, and prayed as the Indian prays — “Father have pity and guide us.” So Quonab sang the new song, and knew its message was for him.
The stranger went on, for he was a messenger, but Quonab sang again and again, and then the vision came, as it must, and the knowledge that he sought.
None saw him go, but ten miles southward on the river he met a hunter and said: “Tell the wise one that I have heard the new song. Tell him I have seen the vision. We are of the sunset, but the new day comes. I must see the land of Mayn Mayano, the dawn-land, where the sun rises out of the sea.”
They saw no more of him. But a day later, Rolf heard of it, and set out in haste next morning for Albany. Skookum the fourth leaped into the canoe as he pushed off. Rolf was minded to send him back, but the dog begged hard with his eyes and tail. It seemed he ought to go, when it was the old man they sought. At Albany they got news. “Yes, the Indian went on the steamboat a few days ago.” At New York, Rolf made no attempt to track his friend, but took the Stamford boat and hurried to the old familiar woods, where he had lived and suffered and wakened as a boy.
There was a house now near the rock that is yet called “Quonab’s.” From the tenants he learned that in the stillest hours of the night before, they had heard the beating of an Indian drum, and the cadence of a chant that came not from throat of white man’s blood.
In the morning when it was light Rolf hastened to the place, expecting to find at least an Indian camp, where once had stood the lodge. There was no camp; and as he climbed for a higher view, the Skookum of to-day gave bristling proof of fear at some strange object there — a man that moved not. His long straight hair was nearly white, and by his side, forever still, lay the song-drum of his people.
And those who heard the mournful strains the night before knew now from Rolf that it was Ouonab come back to his rest, and the song that he sang was the song of the ghost dance.
Примечания
1
Ugh (yes) and wah (no) are Indianisms that continue no matter how well the English has been acquired.
2
“Skookum” or “Skookum Chuck,” in Chinook means “Troubled waters.”
