The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1915-11-18

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to smile.
II q cabinet minister may soften
! conditions to the q Of the monarch.
may not a high priest use the same
discretion In relating to Deity. the
doing of mortals? I thought 50.
About this time I instituted an i'm.
portant policy. BY night I had signal
fires kept burning on every high place
along the coast. ] d~isingenicusly told
my people that w:.ere a great shrine
is. there must also be at night-fall
mighty banners Of flame.
They liked the idea. Despite their
hideous ferocity, they liked every.
thing which might have appealed to
the imagination Of a child. They
liked music, they liked color. The
greatest privilege that their warriors
could earn was that Of comm. to the
number of a dozen at a time, to my
plateau by night and squatting for
hours on their launches while I
coaxed from the violin airs from OBJ
era Or music hall.
On the point above us blazed one OF
our signal fires, and between the red
dened crevices of rock it's flare struck
down and lighted u gathering. Tho
portrait would catch the reflection and
leap from it's shadow. Over us were
the stars. In a circle of silent delight
sat dark, immovable figures. with high
lights cleaning here and there on the
mahogany of cheek bone or forehead.
Some fantastic painter might por-
tray these gatherings on canvas. He
would need a bold brush. I find no
words for it's description, but fantas-
tic 1t was and strange.
Under the fetish Of the starlight I
would find myself drifting away into
realms of stored romance with the
woman I loved and had not cen
Then my bow would all unconsciously
drift into love songs.
I would find myself singing-"Ever
the wide world over, lass"-and Of
tentimes when my voice Isl to the
strain I could fancy that she Joined me
in it's singing. Her voice sang in my
OOuI11SCAy oAO WILL tAO 0WV0CS
less of the beloved and familiar. l
Lad, of course, eve heard a syllable
from her lips, and yet I was sure that,
could I hear her voice in life, I should
instantly have recognized it, though
blind folded. I thought of it as a rich
ly sweet contralto. It never for a mo-
ment occurred to me to fancy it might
be anything else.
Once, for a week, the sky ceased
to smile and grew black. The Jungle
was dashed and stripped with hurri-
canes, and on several occasions the
earth trembled. The sea pounded our
porous coast and boiled into a tremen-
dous tide. l knew that if the cyclonic
scope was general, ships YER having
trouble, but in that thought lurked
a vague hope. If any power were to-
drive a vessel to my rescu it would
be a power which carried sailors out
of their ordered courses.
One night, some six months after
the wreck of the Wastrel, when the
skies were serene again, I found my
SCll lIIOiC Il0-I OtAllttllAN null III I'll lu0
tide of imagination. The march of the
stars showed that midnight had
passed, and yet the natives sat unhur-
ried, and I, as unhurried as they was
still absorbed with the violin.
My eyes travelled out to see. absent
ly and without reason. Suddenly tho
bow stopped halfway across the
strings with a d%iscordant rasp. The
instrument fell from my hands and I
sat rigid and staring like a nan sud-
denly stricken. The other eyes fol-
lowed mine and also remained riveted.
Leagues away, yer the phosphores-
cent waste of water, but clean and un-
blinking, glowed the green spot on .
ships starboard light. I tried to speak,
but for the moment my grasp on their
dilect slipped from me and left me
dumb. I was trembling with heart
bursting excitement, and at sight Of
my emotion they began to stir uneas-
lily with a threat Of panic.
As suddenly az it had left me, my
self possession returned. With .
oWCCp1AS 6OSIul0 ! pO4uIOO W IuC my~
Rad stars that gemmed the heavens
and told them that one of these had
come down to the sea, bringing other
demigods like myself.
I adjured them to build up the fires
Of welcome until the island might
seen a mountain of flame. Their
strongest men must feed the fires, as
never fires had before been fed. and
all others must go to their huts and
await the morrow.
Alone on my plateau I saw the hrst
leap up a line Of beacons that dyed
the night vermilion. The tiny point
of seward green was crawling snail
like on the sea, and at last my gaze
was rewarded by q slender, towering
spray Of rocket-ire followed by anoth-
er. Then the point Of light ceased
crawling and stood still.
I let my head fall forward in ny
palms and my breath came in spas