The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1893-10-22

had been padded past the villages where
death held such undisputed sway. and the
dancers failed a. see that the stranger I'm
the canoe was mortal of their own mold.
that his craft was after the pattern of dug
outs sometimes found floating in the river
with the drift of trees from the far north.
Within few tree lengths from the bluff
wnere the villagers had gathered the stran-
ger backed his canoe and with much curl
oSity looked on the strange sight or men
bowling TO him as IL he were an idol or a
god. He cautiously padded toward the
bank, and. seeing no signs of hostility,
made bold to land. holding his arms at an
angle in front of his body as he clambered
up ravine in the steep bank, to betoken
his peaceful mission The CHEERS daughter
walked toward him with some trepidation,
not unmixed with curiosity. He spoke in
q tongue unfamiliar 10 her, though she
could gather his meaning in a vague way.
Perhaps the stranger had lost himself or
had wandered from one of the tribes up
Have you the power to cure? What
brings you here? What can you do for my
people?'' asked the chiefs daughter as she
went to him, the warriors closing in behind
her at a respectful distance. For mo-
meat Gloosa paused like d waking ma
gician trying to interpret the midnight sob
of the pines. She dropped her hands down
her hollow cheeks. and then let an arm
sweep over toward her detected followers.
What Gloosa could not comprehend from
her words he found in her face and saw
region OF the scourge, of which he had
been warned on his journey down the river
In the old Indian character philanthropy
was not always absent. Whether Gloosa's
heart responded to the cry of humanity, or
whether he was moved by impetuOuSneSS of
youth, and Indian youth at that, TO lend
his healthy self to those strangers, Ii mat
ters not. The fresh bloom had gone from
the face of the chiefs daughter; his love
errantry found no end here; his visions Of
after the shadows fell deep in the forest
and he was alone and asleep. Yet Gloosa
gave heed to the appeal of Moom-tah, the
chiefs daughter, when she had found from
his signs and from the few words that were
common between the tribes of the north
knowledge of the medicine mans art. He
would try his fathers rites.
What / know said he In his own
who can tell much of the evil spirits?'
He pointed to the sky and then waved his
arms Moom-tah understood; the demons of
the air must be driven away. The good
spirits had sent Gloosa with his art to save
the tribe In this the chiefs daughter i'm
plicitly had faith.
1t was now the period of the year when
the haze over the earth mellowed and
cooled the rays of the sun, and at night the
moon was weirdly flaming at early rising.
In the day the brightness of the ever
green's was furnished, but the leaves of the
other trees of the forest were of yellow and
of REQ and of gold. At night huge fires were
built, and around them the braves danced
and yelled, while the women crooned in the
outer circle. family swaying to and fro.
The time for carrying the dead out to the
trees was just before sunset, and those that
died in the night laid in the tepees until
the next morning, when they were huddled
together until the sunset burial. The sick
were generally left alone while the warriors
danced under the blood-red moon. In the
savage rites the we'll sought a quickener
for the i'll; no human power could stay the
ravageS, thought they-all was with the
invisible beings of the air. What mattered
it, then, that men strong in the hunt, now
wasting away, wrapped their blankets about
them and alone, but within the sounds of
the wild dance at the fires, died? Yet this
was many years ago, and should not seem
gruesome.
and Moom-tah was ineligible, of the ohc
to the other. They found common words
and the young man from the North list
ened to a tongue that was not unlike that
of his mother when he was very young.
One day he beat his breast and shouted
In the old lodge of the medicine man
the ground and mumbed to himself, for this
was part of the rites. That night 1t was
morning. GlooSa boosted Of his power to
Moom-tah and said he was a man OF Il
race that had had wonderful powers in past
generations. No doubt he believed tha' he
was gifted with the power of which bis
father had boosted before him, and wien
the few succeeding days of cooled atmos-
phere brought a measure of relief, and many
of the sick grew stronger, he said to him
self that ii was miraculous power inherited
from MS 1Ore1dInerS Inat Drought ABOUT
the good. Gloosa might have become great
with the people had not the sun burned
more intensely scarcely ere six days had
passed, and all the tribe was in. despair
again.
THE evil spirit laughs at him." shouted
a warrior at one of the exhausting dances.
He knows no medicine joined in an
other. Loss of confidence is more conta-
gious than the deadliest of fevers, and in
deposed. and Moom-tah's chief man, who
assumed the guidance of the rites, declared
that on the morrow an old medicine of the
first epidemic should be tried again.
Prayers for mercy and afavors were to be
sent up, in the strange tribal way, to the
evil spirits. Gloosa lay down that night on
did not sleep. for he was weary at heart
and longed to be back with his own peo-
pie. 1t was thus he thought:
Il have seen none of the beautiful maid
ems, and all is deSolation about / am de-
pissed by all save Moom-tah, but 1 do not
love her Her face has no beal ". / must
go further and find the lovely o e.who sent
up the shells. She must be one Of the maid
ems of whom my mother told me-"
AS the saffron colorS began to come in
the sky in the east he doZed and had sweet
dreams, that were broken before they were
well woven. The lovely maidens were APP
pearing to him again, but noise baniShed
them. He arose and listened The day was
on. and the men We're dancing, shouting
and singing in their wild way. 1t was ear
ly for such ceremonies and Gloosa hurried
TO the scene of the dance Sagah, the self
installed medicine man, was in the center
of q ring of the SavageS making strange
gestures, unknown to the rites that Gloosa
knew. Some Of the men held geese, that
had no doubt been caught In the morning
Gloosa crept close to the ring and watched
the ceremonies with much curiosity. He
thought they were killing the birds by
twisting their neckS. No, 1t not that
They were tying something to the geese
and Their releasing the long-necked Great
ures. Gloosa saw that they were putting
shells on the birds. A flood of disappoint-
ment came upon him; his heart beat vio-
lently; all his hope was gone. His maidens
were dreams, too true.
A feeling of repulsiOn caused him to turn
away, and as he moved Moom-tah was at
his side. Could she tell him what the GER
TO the spirits of the air. Did he not know
that the wild geese held converse with
these spirits? On each shell was a PRAYER
to the mysterious ones.
Together the chiefs daughter and the
youth moved away, and at the edge Of the
few words to his companion. He told her
he had been journeying towards a myth
The weight of grief rested too heavily upon
him. Nearer and nearer they moved to the
steep bluff of the river. Again they talked.
but not long.
The bodies of Moom-tah and Gloosa were
found close together in the driftwood where
they had been swept and pinioned by the
pitiless eddy. In the winter the plague
abated, and the Indians in their legends
wove a love tale around the death of the
chiefs daughter and the son of the med
icine man from the North.
Have you not heard in the autumn, at
dusk. the wild geese crying TO the evil spir-
it's IN the air. far overhead?
GAVIN LODGE PAYNE.
n..n,a UrsI. IN tho nfI,Ia