He had evidently not yet seen her and paused as if uncertain whether to advance. She stood in the open space beside the bench, just off the pathway leading from the gate to the house, along which he must advance should he decide to proceed farther. A pale, plumy spray of tamarisk intervened between them, otherwise he must have seen her. For some time he stood silent and motionless as if uncertain what to do, then he began to advance slowly in her direction.

What did he want? Why had he come at this hour? Her heart beat high and she began to tremble with excitement as she watched him coming toward her.

Her wan, pale dress so closely resembled the moonlight in the shadow of the tamarisk that he might have passed her unnoticed had she not unconsciously closed her half-open fan which she was nervously clasping in both hands. It shut with a soft, faint snap, causing him to stop and turn in her direction.

"Chiquita!" he cried, and springing forward, had her in his arms before she could prevent it.

"No, no; you must not!" she cried, overcome by his suddenness and vainly struggling to free herself.

"Chiquita," he went on without heeding her, "I could not wait until morning, and came to tell you again that I believe in you—that I love you—that nothing but death can separate us in this life!"

She saw and felt the uselessness of struggling against his great strength and will, so she relaxed her efforts and became quite passive in his arms, her face cast down. Besides, it seemed as though all her strength had left her. She trembled so violently and felt so weak that she must have sunk to the ground had he not supported her.

"Sweetheart!" he cried more passionately than ever. "What do we care for the world? Look up and say you will come with me!" Her soul thrilled with the rapture his words caused her.

"Jack," she said at length, raising her head and looking up into his face, "I love you too much to do that. Not until my name has been cleared—" They heard a rustling sound on the other side of the tamarisk. Another moment, and the long, plumy sprays parted and Don Felipe stepped into the pathway. His face was ashen pale and wore the look of a thoroughly desperate man.

"Captain Forest," he began, breaking the painful silence that ensued, "I have vowed that you shall never marry her. I give you one more chance," and he raised his right arm and pointed toward the gate. "Go, while there is yet time!" he commanded, his voice vibrant with passion. "Go back to the Posada at once and saddle your horse and leave the country this very night. If you do not—"

"You think to intimidate me?" interrupted the Captain, quietly releasing Chiquita from his arms and confronting him.

"Once more—will you go?" demanded Don Felipe in a harsh, fierce voice.

"No!" answered the Captain.

"Then your blood be upon your own head!" he cried, and without a moment's warning, he drew a long knife from his inner breast pocket and rushed furiously upon him.

"Coward, to attack an unarmed man!" cried the Captain, springing aside just in time to avoid his thrust. Without replying, Don Felipe whirled with the swiftness of a cat and rushed at him again. The Captain glanced hurriedly about him in search of some weapon of defense. Close at hand he espied a small, fragile, gilt chair that had been left there by chance during the day. Seizing it by the back with both hands he raised it aloft and aimed a swift blow at his adversary, but the latter cleverly dodged it by dropping on one knee. The chair crashed to the ground with terrific force, its fragments flying in all directions.

Captain Forest was a wonderfully active man for his size. Before Don Felipe was on his feet again, he sprang forward and seized his right arm. The two men grappled desperately for some moments, but what was Don Felipe in the hands of a giant. Suddenly the knife went whirling back over the Captain's shoulder, forming a glittering half-circle in the moonlight as it fell among the flowers. Then Captain Forest lifted Don Felipe with both hands as easily as he would have lifted a child and hurled him violently to the ground several feet away. A smothered cry of pain escaped him.

"Lie there, dog!" said the Captain, contemptuously.

"Not so, Captain Forest—we're not done yet!" answered Don Felipe, rising with difficulty on one knee. From his hip pocket he drew a pistol.

"Don Felipe Ramirez!" came Chiquita's voice, ringing clear; but he did not heed the warning. Instantly her hand went to her breast and there were two almost simultaneous shots. Don Felipe sprang into the air with a loud cry, alighting upright upon both feet. He gasped, staggered forward a pace, and then sank down on his knees. Again he gasped, clutched desperately at his heart with his left hand, and then, with a last supreme effort, slowly raised his weapon with his trembling hand and once more took aim at the Captain. There was another quick flash and report, and Don Felipe Ramirez lay dead on the ground between them.

In silence they gazed at one another across Don Felipe's body. The Captain was about to speak when they were startled by a low moan just behind them, and, turning, they saw Blanch sink slowly to the bench in a sitting posture, her head resting on her arm across the back of the bench. In an instant they were at her side.



"Blanch!" cried the Captain in consternation at the sight of the blood that was oozing slowly from her left side, and which Chiquita was vainly endeavoring to stanch with her handkerchief. At the sound of his voice, she slowly opened her eyes.

"Forgive me," she whispered in an almost inaudible tone, as they knelt on either side of her, supporting her. For some moments she lay quite motionless, then a slight tremor passed through her and with a little sigh like that of a child's, her head slipped down upon Chiquita's breast. The bullet which Don Felipe had intended for the Captain had passed through her heart; the penalty she paid for giving the signal in the patio.

The moonlight fell full across her face, which, contrary to what one might suppose, wore an expression of peace and calm, almost a smile, like one in a dream.

"How beautiful she is!" murmured Chiquita, holding her tenderly in her arms.

"Would to God she had been spared!" answered the Captain, his voice choking with emotion. Yet each felt as they gazed on her upturned face, whose expression was rather that of sleep than of death, that she was better off thus; for what did life hold for her?



XXXVI

For most men death ends all things, but for those whose souls are illumined by the unquenchable flame of faith, death is but the beginning of life.

The news of the tragedy, following swift upon that of Juan Ramon's death, spread like wildfire, fairly taking the people's breath away, and throwing the community into a tumult of excitement. Not since the days when the victorious American armies had entered Mexico and laid waste the land, had there been such a commotion in the old town.

The community was shaken to its center. What would happen next? Old women paused in the midst of their chatter and, crossing themselves, said an extra ave as a protection against the Evil One; for no one knew who would be taken next.

Don Felipe Ramirez, the handsomest and wealthiest and most influential man in Chihuahua, dead—at the hand of a woman—an Indian!

Most people admitted that he had merited death. That his end was a just punishment for his misdeeds, but then, had it not been for the woman who had wrecked his life, how different his end might have been!

Juan Ramon would be missed for a day at the gaming tables, but the beautiful American Senorita—why should she have paid the price of blood? It was too much. The popular outburst was tremendous, quite beyond Padre Antonio's influence or control. The evil and tragedy which the witch seemed to draw with her in her train far outweighed the good she had accomplished since her advent in the town. And if the grand Senor, Captain Forest, of an alien race, still chose to remain in the place, why, let him look to his personal safety if he still set store upon his life.

Such was popular sentiment, and out of the countless maledictions that were heaped upon the dark woman and the man she had bewitched, there grew that sullen and ominous silence of presentiment like that preceding a storm, and which boded but one end to them both—death.

Jose and Dick were the first to apprise the Captain of the true state of affairs, although he had not remained insensible to the threatening looks and dark, sullen faces that greeted him on every hand.

"The place has become too hot to hold you, old man," said Dick. "You and Chiquita had better go somewhere for a little pasear. You'll find the air in the mountains more salubrious than here; in fact—vamos, as the Spaniards say. Go to Padre Antonio's house at once," he continued. "It's a sort of a sanctuary, you know; you'll be safe there to-day. If you value your life, don't set foot outside the place, and I'd even be chary about picking flowers in the garden," he added in his droll way. "To-night, Jose and I will have your horses ready and waiting for you in the canon at the foot of the trail which leads to the top of the mesa overlooking the valley. You must get away under cover of the dusk before the moon rises. Old Manuela will give you the signal when to depart."

"Dick, you are the most ingenious mortal in the world," answered the Captain. "You are as good as a mother to me. How did you ever think of it?"

"Oh! don't thank me," returned Dick. "I didn't think of it; I never have any ideas. It's Jose's plan entirely."

"The deuce! It does sound like you, camarada!" he ejaculated, turning to Jose who had smoked his cigarillo in silence while listening to Dick's words. "The scheme sounds well," he continued after some moments' reflection. "And yet it seems to me you have overlooked something—the most important thing of all."

"What?" asked Dick.

"How are you going to get the horses there without attracting attention? It's just possible that the entire populace might escort you there and then hang all four of us when Chiquita and I arrive."

"Ah! I never thought of that," replied Dick, flicking the ash from his cigar and exchanging glances with Jose. "I always said you had the imagination of a poet, Jack. But it takes an Indian to think of such things; the horses are concealed already in the canon, a quarter of a mile from the trail."

"Si, Capitan. I took them there last night," said Jose.

"Last night?"

"Yes. You see, it was this way. I saw the fight last night—"

"You did?"

"Si, Capitan. It was a glorious fight, the greatest fight I ever saw. I followed Don Felipe last night and surely would have killed him had I not seen the Senorita draw her weapon. I knew that it was her right to kill him."

"You observe Jose's exquisite sense of discrimination," interrupted Dick. "It's the etiquette of the land," he added with a twinkle in his eye, his face betraying not so much as the suggestion of a smile. Captain Forest could have laughed at Dick's irresistible humor were it not for the terrible tragedy which rested heavily upon him.

"Well," continued Jose, "while you and the Senorita stood beside the beautiful Americana, I bethought me that it was about time we were leaving this place. You did not know that the two women, Manuela and Juana, and the Padre's gardener, Sebastiano, also witnessed the shooting. I told Sebastiano to get the Senorita's horse out of the stable at once and wait outside in the shadow of the wall on the far side of the garden until I returned. I then hurried back here and got away unobserved with our horses, picking up the Senorita's and Sebastiano on the way to the canon where I left them in the latter's charge. They will hardly be missed to-day, I think," he added; "the excitement is too great. Go now quietly to Padre Antonio's and wait there until Manuela gives you the word to depart." Jose paused. Then casting a quick glance about him, he took a fresh puff at his cigarillo and said: "Until then, a Dios, Senor Capitan!" and assuming an indifferent air, as though nothing unusual had occurred, he sauntered quietly away.

"That man's a genius!" said Dick, looking after him until he disappeared around the corner of the house.

"It was a lucky day for you when you picked him up. If you get away at all to-night, you'll owe your lives to him. Nothing but his wits could have saved you. You had better be going now," he added. "Go directly to the Padre's and attract as little attention as possible on the way.

"Este noche, amigo mio—to-night, my friend," he concluded in Spanish, and turning, lounged carelessly through the doorway into the house.



XXXVII

"I hear nothing," said Jose, rising from the ground where he had been lying flat with his ear close to the earth.

"They have given us up!" exclaimed the Captain, turning in the saddle and addressing Chiquita who also had been scanning their back trail in the effort to discover a sign of their lost pursuers.

"We have tired them out," she answered, lowering her hand from her eyes.

They had escaped—they were free. Padre Antonio had married them on the afternoon of the previous day.

"If I am still alive, and God grant that it may be so," he said on parting, "I shall see you next spring when I visit the Missions in the North."

The flight had been a swift and perilous one. They had traveled the entire night and day, pausing only long enough to allow their horses short breathing spells and time to slake their thirst at the springs and streams they encountered in their flight. Like their horses, all three were thoroughly tired, and their clothes torn and dust begrimed.

"We'll camp yonder, Jose," said the Captain, pointing to a thick group of pines that grew on the opposite side of the stream on whose bank they had halted. They had arrived at the foot of the Sierra Madres from whose side the stream burst and along whose banks their trail led to the upper world where it dropped down again on the other side of the great mountainous divide into Sonora.

"It's like the old days!" cried Chiquita, laughing as they splashed through the stream to the opposite bank, the water rising to their saddle-girths. Drawing rein at the outer rim of the pines, they dismounted and removed their saddles and packs, the latter consisting of a pair of blankets apiece and a week's rations equally distributed among them; coffee, sugar, bacon, beans and flour and a few necessary utensils. These they carried into the center of the grove and deposited in a circle on the ground.

Jose led away the horses and while he was occupied in picketing them, the Captain gathered an armful of dry wood for the fire, and then picking up a canvas bucket, strolled to the river and filled it with water.

Chiquita had already lit the fire when he returned. She filled the coffee pot with water, cut some slices of bacon and tossed them into a pan which she placed on the fire and then began to mix some flour and water. The Captain leaned against the trunk of one of the trees and rolling a cigarette, lit it, watching her the while. Chiquita laughed softly, but said nothing while engaged in the process of bread-making. This homely touch of camp-life told plainer than words how thoroughly they had come down to earth and again were facing the wholesome realities of life. When the dough was of the right consistency, she molded it into biscuits, placed them in a deep pan, and raking some coals from the fire, set the pan upon them, also depositing some coals on the top of the cover. After giving the bacon a final turn in the pan, she set it to one side close to the fire where it would keep warm.

She then rose to her feet and stood erect. As she did so, one of the great strands of her hair which had become loosened during their flight, fell in a soft curling mass of blue jet down her back to within a few inches of her ankles. Captain Forest did not know then that it was a sign of her royal lineage.

Once upon a time in the dim past, so far back that nobody could remember when it had occurred, a Tewana woman had given birth to a beautiful girl child with wonderful hair in the same year that a wandering star with a great tail had appeared in the heavens. The coincidence seemed nothing short of miraculous to the people. The Sachems of the tribe pronounced the child to be consecrated and chosen to rule over them by the gods. So it had been decreed, and ever since then, all Tewana women who had ruled over the people had possessed this distinctive mark of their royal lineage and bore the name, "Flaming Star."

Chiquita crossed over to where the Captain still stood leaning against the tree and, pausing before him, looked up into his face and said: "What are you thinking of, Sweetheart?" He flung his arms about her and kissed her.

"I am still wondering," he answered, "how it all happened. It seems so strange, and yet so natural."

"Just what I, too, have been thinking," she returned. "And yet it is no more remarkable than what our entire lives have been. It could not be otherwise."

"No," he replied. "I would not have it different for worlds. It's just as it should be—just as it has been decreed."

"Come!" she said, leading him over to where her pack lay on the ground. "I've got something for you," and kneeling on the ground, she began unrolling her blankets, out of which she took a small package which, on being opened, contained two pairs of beautifully beaded moccasins; one pair of which she handed to him.

"It's just like you, Chiquita mia!" he exclaimed. "I always wear them in camp, but in the hurry to get away, I forgot mine. I'm glad I forgot them though," he added, holding up the moccasins and admiring them. "How did you come to think of them?"

"I can't say," she answered. "One afternoon about a month ago while at the Posada, I noticed your footprint in the gravel path in the garden where you had been talking to the girls but a few moments before. Things, as you know, were rather uncertain then, nevertheless, something impelled me to take the measure and make them; thinking that possibly you might want them some day. Besides, it was such sweet work, you know," she added with a little laugh.

"Chiquita—you're a wonderful woman! You not only seem to be able to do everything, but you think of everything as well," and kneeling on the ground before her, he drew off her riding boots and slipped her moccasins on her feet.

"It is the bridal gift of an Indian girl to her husband," she said caressingly. "And signifies that they shall tread the same path together through life."

"What could be more beautiful!" he returned, pulling off his boots and drawing on his own. "Ah!" he continued, "it was worth waiting for you Chiquita mia! The long years of uncertainty and suffering seem as nothing, now that I look back upon them and you have come into my life."

Just then Jose returned from the work of picketing the horses and the three sat down to supper.



XXXVIII

"Isn't it strange how easily one can return to the natural life if one has known it before?" said Chiquita later in the evening, as the three lay stretched on their blankets around the small fire which Jose had kindled in the center of the grove, and watched the flickering flames and dancing shadows against the dark pine boughs surrounding them.

"The life of yesterday has fallen from me," she continued, gazing pensively into the fire whose red glare illumined her beautiful bronze features.

"Yes, you are an Indian once more, Chiquita mia," said the Captain.

"Ah! you are as much of an Indian as Jose or myself!" she retorted gayly. "What a pity you didn't know the life before the land was conquered and tamed by the White man! Verily, a glory has passed from this earth!" A peculiar light shone in Jose's eyes as he listened to her words. He seemed on the point of speaking, but did not. He smiled and rolled a fresh cigarillo, lighting it with a pine twig which he took from the fire.

"Tell me why you insisted on our coming this way, Chiquita?" asked the Captain, disposing himself comfortably on his blanket.

"Because I want to see my people again. They are the strongest and most advanced people in Mexico, and we will be safe with them until things have quieted down. Because I wanted you to see where I came from and how I lived before Padre Antonio introduced me to a new world and made of me a woman that you could love. Besides, we can start from their country on our camping trip as well as from any other place. My people are not quite the savages you probably think them. But there is something else," she continued after a pause. "I was impelled, drawn this way. Why, I can not say, but something always kept pointing me toward the northwest. I feel as though the climax of our lives is yet to come; that we are on the verge of something great; that our work in life may begin with them."

"Perhaps it may be so!" interrupted Jose, no longer able to conceal the agitation her words aroused in him. "That is, if the vision of the White Cloud prove to be true. At any rate, my people await your coming," he added. At the mention of the White Cloud, Chiquita sat bolt upright, regarding Jose intently the while—then rose to her feet.

"The White Cloud? Your people?" she repeated excitedly. "Then you are a Tewana?" Jose also had risen from his sitting posture, and dropping on one knee with face downward and both arms extended straight out before him with the palms of the hands turned downward, he exclaimed in the Tewana tongue: "Princess, Flaming Star—I greet you! I am Onakipo, the Pine Tree, son of Ixlao, the Swan!" Jose's attitude and manner of speech formed a most striking picture. He had not even revealed his true identity to the Captain.

Chiquita had noticed the furtive, stolen glances he had cast at her from time to time during the journey, a thing strange in an Indian, and it caused her some uneasiness, but now she understood. He had just acknowledged her by his attitude of submission and the salute common to his people, as their tribal head.

"You and I, Princess, were the sole survivors of that last battle in which your father's band was annihilated," continued Jose in Spanish, seating himself once more on the ground on the other side of the fire opposite Chiquita who again had taken her place beside the Captain.

"I do not wonder that you did not recognize me," he went on after a pause, during which he rolled and lit a fresh cigarillo. "I was a mere boy at the time. The battle, you will remember, took place just before sunset, and when the enemy charged our camp, I was struck on the head, as you see by the scar over my left eye. I fell over a ledge of rock into a gully below, alighting in a thick clump of bushes, breaking my fall and saving my life. Fortunately the bushes concealed me from view, causing the enemy to overlook me, else they certainly had finished me before departing. I lay unconscious all that night until noon of the following day, when I awoke. For a long time after awakening I was too weak to rise, but finally I managed to crawl to the little stream that ran at the bottom of the gully just below me. There I slaked my thirst and washed my face and wound and bound it up as best I could. All that afternoon I lay by the stream, drinking and dipping my head in the water until evening, when I regained sufficient strength to crawl back to the top of the great rock where we made our last stand.

"There, a ghastly sight met my eyes. With his back against a large bowlder where the enemy had placed him, sat your father, the Whirlwind, still dressed in his war regalia and around him, just as they had fallen, lay our dead comrades. I counted them. There were forty-eight in all, and as you were not among the dead, I rightly conjectured, as it soon afterward proved, that you had been taken prisoner. Three weeks later I succeeded in reaching our people and told the news. A war party was organized immediately, and I guided it back to the land of the Ispali where after a battle, we learned of your capture and escape from several of the Ispali whom we succeeded in capturing.

"That was ten years ago, and ever since then, we have sent out runners each year to visit the towns and villages throughout the land in the hope of finding you and bringing you back again to rule over us; for as you know, Princess, you are the last of the royal blood. But in vain. In spite of the fact that the White Cloud, our great Sachem, said you were still alive, that he repeatedly saw you among the living in his visions and predicted your return, we found no trace of you. That was because we had overlooked Santa Fe. It lies so far east of our country that it escaped our notice. We never imagined that you had crossed the Sierra Madres in your flight, and had I not chanced to enter the Captain's service, we probably never would have heard of you again.

"But now I understand that it was so intended—that the time was not yet ripe. That the Great Spirit had ordained you should not return to your people until you had become worthy of the charge which is about to be conferred upon you, and which, as you shall presently learn, goes to prove the truth of the subsequent prophecies the White Cloud made concerning you." He paused and for some minutes gazed silently into the fire. He had accompanied his narrative with intense, dramatic gestures and expressions illustrative of its incidents; a characteristic common to his race. Presently a smile lit up his face and looking up once more, he resumed.

"You remember, Princess, how the White Cloud counseled us to accept the terms of the Government, bad though they were, and make peace, and prophesied that disaster would befall us if we refused. Well, then as now, events have proved the truth of his words. As the years went by and no further trace of you could be found, the people lost hope of ever seeing you again and said you were dead. But the White Cloud maintained that you were still alive; that the day of your return was drawing ever nearer; that he heard the song of birds and the sound of laughing waters and beheld the desert carpeted with flowers in his vision and you in their midst coming towards them, which typified the renewal of life and rebirth of the nation. But when he announced that he always saw you in the company of a white man who later should rule over us, they laughed at his prophecies.

"'A white man rule over the Tewana? How absurd—impossible!' They shook their heads and said: 'The White Cloud is old—his vision has become dim, impaired through age!'"

The Captain and Chiquita were too amazed by Jose's words to venture a reply, and sat gazing alternately at one another and then at the speaker.

"When I first met the Captain," continued Jose, "I wondered greatly why I was so drawn toward him. True, he was a man to my liking and I was doubly grateful to him for saving my life, but that did not wholly account for my attachment. I was drawn to him irresistibly as by an invisible power. I could not leave him; and when I again saw you, Princess, on the day that you and the beautiful Senorita met for the first time and heard from your own lips who you were as well as your avowal of love for my Master, I knew then that the White Cloud had read rightly the future; that my Master, the Grand Senor, had been chosen by the Great Spirit to rule with you over our people.

"It was then that I learned how you had come to Padre Antonio, after which I returned to our people and told them what I knew; that I had found not only you, but also the White Chief whom the White Cloud had seen in his vision, and that, if you returned to them at all, it would surely be as his bride. At first they would not believe me, but when I persisted and reminded them of the disasters that had befallen us in the past for our failure to heed the White Cloud's councils, they at last yielded and called a grand council and decided to send a deputation composed of the leading men of the nation to verify my statements.

"It was not so much the news that you were still alive that was so difficult for them to believe, but that a white man should rule over them—a thing impossible and past all belief; besides, they would not have it. However, when I conducted the deputation, consisting of six of our leading men, to Santa Fe and they secretly beheld you, Princess, they one and all exclaimed as with one breath: ''Tis she, the Princess—the Flaming Star! How like her father, the Whirlwind, she is!'

"They wanted to disclose their identity to you then and there and exhort you to return with them to your people, but I persuaded them to wait, reminding them that the White Cloud's prophecy was not yet entirely fulfilled. I then showed you to them, Master," he went on, addressing the Captain, "and although they acknowledged that you were a magnificent specimen of a man and had the appearance of one born to command, they shook their heads and said it was impossible—that a White Chief could never rule over the Tewana.

"'Of a truth,' I answered, 'the black-robed Padres are right! You are a stiff-necked people who persist in following in the footsteps of our forefathers who, we all know, were unable to lead the people to the light. Only the White Cloud was able to foresee the future; grasp the significance of both the Padres' and our ancient Sachems' teachings. That the old order of things had come to an end. That the time had come when strife must cease among men; that the tidings were now to be fulfilled which the White Child with a face like the sun had brought to the world, and whose coming our ancient Sachems had predicted in the ancient days. Know also, that the Princess has seen the great world which you have not seen; that in many ways she is more like a white woman than one of our race; that she is wiser than you are; that the Great Spirit has shown her the things that are good for us, and if she becomes the wife of the White Chief, you must accept him if you accept her, for without him she will never return to you. Besides, the White Chief is the wisest of us all. In his sight both we and most of the men of his own race are as children.'

"They could not find a fitting answer to my words and returned to our people. Ever since then runners have been coming and going constantly between us. They have been apprised of our coming and await us." Jose ceased speaking and sat gazing meditatively into the fire where he watched the pink and violet flames leap upward and lose themselves in the thin wreath of white smoke which slowly ascended and floated away over the tree tops. For some time no one spoke, then Captain Forest finally broke the silence.

"What you say, Jose, is truly wonderful; but know, that we have no more desire to rule the Tewana than to rule other men. But should they, like the rest of the world, fail to heed our example, they shall perish in their ignorance." He leaned forward and tossed some fresh sticks of wood on the fire.

"It is time for the first watch, Jose," he continued, rising to his feet and glancing up at the stars visible above the tree tops. "Call me when the Great Bear has half circled the Pole Star. I'll keep the second watch."



XXXIX

Jose brought in the horses and he and the Captain saddled and packed them; after which they silently broke camp in the light of the stars and the waning moon. Jose took his place at the head of the little cavalcade, Chiquita following him and the Captain bringing up the rear; he and Chiquita casting a last look at their first camp as they rode away.

No one spoke. Save for the measured tread of the horses and noise of the rushing stream along which the trail led upwards, no sounds disturbed the silence of the night. Now and then an occasional spark, struck from the horses' iron-rimmed hoofs, flashed for an instant in the darkness along the trail.

The Captain's gaze was riveted upon Chiquita's tall, erect figure in front of him who ever and anon turned in the saddle and smiled, her beautiful, lustrous eyes flashing like stars in the moon-fire.

Higher and higher they mounted, pausing occasionally to allow the horses time to draw breath, until they at length drew rein on the summit of the Sierra Madres. Here a wonderful sight met their eyes, poised as they were upon the rim of the earth and gazing off into star-strewn space. Dawn was just breaking, suffusing the long line of the eastern horizon with a soft, rosy glow which crept swiftly towards them over the gray-green, purple plains that swept away from the mountains' base like vast undulating stretches of ocean; the golden shafts of the on-coming dawn driving the paling stars before them like a shepherd his flocks to the hills. North and south, as far as the eye could reach, stretched the broken and many crested length of the great Sierra Madre range; its sides clothed with dark forests of cedar and pine and chaparral, its secluded recesses obscured in the gloom; its highest peaks glowing with golden, pink and violet tints. In the west, surrounded by a host of golden stars that still glittered in the purple black depths of vanishing night, the silver moon hung half-way dipped as it slowly sank behind the towering crest of the Sahuaripa range, an isolated spur of the Sierra Madres. A vast plain intervened between them and the distant Sierras at whose foot dwelt the Tewana.

Far below them, from out the shadowy depths on either side of the range, arose faint sounds of awakening life. The breeze began to sigh among the tree tops, while high above them they heard the wild scream of eagles that soared in great circles with widespread pinions in their morning flight to greet the sun. Great waves of indefinable melody, more subtle and exquisite than music, swept over them, causing their souls to quicken and tingle in the freshening dawn as the Day Star rose to hold again his sway over earth. His mighty splendor and effulgence swept through and over them, their souls vibrating with renewed life and vigor as they felt and recognized God's sign and immanence as in the days when man first walked with Him in the cool of the morning.

They realized that they had entered upon the new life. The promise was fulfilled—the veil was lifted. The scroll of human destiny seemed to unroll itself from out the dim traditions of the past, and they beheld as in a dream the life that was when first the children of men roamed the earth and established the Kingdom of God which was intended from the beginning. In the picture of the golden childhood of the race, they beheld reflected in the new light of the future, the vision of the emancipated, delivered man, guided by the lessons still to be learned from the great Book of Nature lying open before him, and the accumulated wisdom of past ages, handed down to him by his forefathers through travail and suffering and in legend and song from those ancient days of suns and nights of stars when the earth and man were young. A freeborn race of men who are joint tenants of the soil, sharing all things in common with which their bountiful Mother, the Earth, has provided them. A race of men, athletic in body as they are able in mind, and spiritual and courageous, recognizing no laws but those of Nature's or God's.

In silence and with bared heads they gazed upon the grandeur of the scene that lay spread out before them. It was as though they looked back upon the old life from another world. It lay so far behind them that it seemed but a memory; not a vestige of it clung to them, so filled were they with new hopes and aspirations.

"Behold!" cried Jose excitedly, pointing toward the west. And looking in the direction indicated by his outstretched arm, they beheld in the dim distance numerous columns of smoke rising heavenward in the clear morning air from the tops of the mesas that dotted the plain.

"'Tis the sign of your coming, Princess!" he continued. "The people have bowed to the will of the White Cloud—acknowledged the authority of the White Chief."

Parrakeets began to twitter among the branches of the trees on every hand during their descent of the western slope. Ravens croaked and called from the heart of the forest, and the owl flitted by on silent wing. Black birds with orange heads and throats and splashed with scarlet on their wings, greeted them at the foot of the mountain among the reeds which grew along the stream they were following. Deer broke from the willow copse and bounded away, while grouse rose on whirring wings from under the horses' hoofs as they emerged upon the plain where the wild cry of the curlew rang clear and sharp on the morning. They were free and breathed deep of the spirit of freedom; listened to the old primeval song of nature's myriad voices; gazed long upon the pristine loveliness of earth.

All that day and the three following, the columns of smoke continued to rise heavenward as they pursued their journey. At night, pillars of fire took the place of the smoke, and all the while, save for an occasional glimpse in the distance of a solitary horseman who faded specterlike from view on their approach, they saw not a soul.

The Spirit of the Great Mystery brooded over the land, and they rode as in a dream. The fragrant cedar and pinon-scented smoke mingled with the soft, thin haze of the Indian summer which veiled the land in its golden glow of mystery; the sacred incense, the Red men say, of the gods, burned on their altars in ancient days; a sign to the people to gather each year on the hilltops and mesas, and in the forests and plains during the moon of falling leaves, and celebrate in prayer and sacred dance and song, the advent of the gods.

The wind was hushed and all things seemed to sleep and dream, and they seemed to draw nearer to the heart of things. The great change that had come into their lives was, after all, no more wonderful than the changes which they saw had taken place in nature about them. A luxuriant growth of tropical vegetation, succeeded by vast forests of conifers, a remnant of which still survived upon the mountains, once flourished in the semi-desert through which they traveled. An occasional broken, half-buried pillar, or the remains of a crumbling wall that had witnessed the passing of the ages and listened to the tales borne on the winds, marked the existence of vanished civilizations of which men to-day know naught. All things appeared to change and fade, nothing seemed permanent, not even the ideal; the morrow was but a forgetting.

Beneath them they felt the Earth, ponderous and weighty and crushing in its immensity to the imagination, and whose existence seemed of little moment in comparison to the countless worlds that filled the universe about them. Yet, insignificant though it appeared, was it not a link in the great universal scheme of matter, and did it not stand in the same relation to the universe as their individual lives to the human race?

Like two stars their souls had rushed together from the uttermost confines of space. She had been led into his world, and he compelled to retrace his steps to almost primitive conditions in order that they might find one another and together take up the thread of their common destiny. Clearly, they were children of destiny upon whose brows God had set His seal. They realized that the path which lay before them was not one entirely strewn with flowers. That between the chosen ones, life meant something more than the love of a man for a woman, or a woman's for a man. That they still stood with their feet in the flame; that earth's cup of joy for them must still remain one of bitter-sweet; that they must go on to the end in order that men might see and hear; that the new order of things must spring from them.

Gay was the Princess. She laughed and talked and related incidents of her life and her people; the silvery tinkle of the bells on her spurs, accompanying every movement of her horse, chimed sweetly with her mood. In the raven folds of her blue-black hair, she wore again the red berries as on the day when first he beheld her. She seemed a part of that tawny landscape, splashed with great patches of crimson and gold and gray and purple—the spirit and incarnation of the Indian summer.

As he gazed upon her and listened to her words, the wild refrain of those familiar lines recurred to him:

"I will wed some savage woman; she shall rear my dusky race: Iron-jointed, supple-sinewed, they shall dive and they shall run, Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their lances in the sun, Whistle back the parrot's call,—leap the rainbows of the brooks,—"

The woman of the ages had come back again. Lilith and Eve and Isis and Venus, the foam-kissed, and Erda, the dreaming one. The vision of the ancient world rose before him; virgin forests and plains and mighty rivers and mountains; the ancient temples of the Nile and the Ganges, Hellas' fanes and Druidic monoliths and sacred groves, and voices of strange peoples mingled with the soft notes of reed and lute.

Within the unending circle of life and death, of love and hatred, of joy and sorrow and remorse which mark the rise and passing of the civilizations, he beheld the sacred ash and pine, and starry lotus afloat upon the face of moonlit waters in which were mirrored the palm and papyrus and acanthus, and stood face to face with the serpent and wolf, the winged horse and sphinx, and the dragon and the griffin when their secret origins and significance were known unto men. The sounds of harps and cymbals and lyres and timbrels blended with those of conch-shells and antelope horns. Sighs and laughter and curses and weeping mingled with the wild strains of Homeric song and mystic rites of Chaldea and Babylon, and the sacred chant of Isis. The Voodoo danced to the rattle of shells and antelope hoofs before the shrines of Ethiopia's dark woman, crowned with the sickle moon, and vast multitudes knelt and lay prostrate before the car of Juggernaut and the passing image of Pracriti of Asia, the many-breasted, the Goddess of Abundance.

Sun and Fire worshipers tore the hearts and scalps from living victims and held them aloft to the rising sun, and men and wild beasts fought in arenas amid the acclamations of the people.

He beheld the milk-white bullocks of the Druid, garlanded with flowers, heading the procession that entered the dark groves in search of the sacred mistletoe-bearing oak; the processions of Pan and Odin, and Siva and Vishnu and Baal, and Venus and Bacchus. Nymphs and fauns and dryads and hamadryads called from the depths of the forest, and youths and maidens and shepherds with vine-wreathed brows danced in the sunlit glades and on the hills where the white flocks roamed, to the plaintive notes of the mystic pipes of Pan. He beheld the flaunting banners and flashing steel of victorious hosts and heard the wild, weird chants of wandering, barbaric hordes that conquered and destroyed. The flash and roar of artillery of recent times but intensified the gloom that brooded over the world. The struggle was unending. Men still remained the victims and slaves of passion and desire. Their sighs and curses and groans and cries of hatred and despair increased with the years; the smoke of their torment blackened the face of the sun.

The waves of human harmony and discord swept over him like the sounds of mighty rushing winds and waters, and he beheld the race to-day, as in the past, in the plains and on the high tops, prostrate and erect with hands outstretched toward the heavens, crying for release. And yet through it and beneath it and above it all, he heard a ringing note of triumph that swelled onward and upward until the vision shone clear, and the true import of their lives stood revealed. They had overcome the world; broken the fiery chains of desire.

The heavens of the old world rolled together like a scroll, and the sun and the moon and the stars and the earth fell into the burning sea of man's worldliness, but out of the chaos that followed, the earth emerged once more, green and beautiful, and grain waved upon its face, and the voice of the Angel rang clear, crying aloud and mightily:

"Babylon the Great is fallen, is fallen! Babylon, the woman mounted upon the scarlet beast and arrayed in purple and scarlet color and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, and having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations.... Babylon upon whose forehead is written, 'Mystery, Babylon the Great, the Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Earth.' Babylon drunk with wine and the blood of those who stood for the truth. Babylon, of whose wine and delights all men have drunk and with whom all the nations of the Earth have committed fornication. Babylon whose sins have reached unto heaven; who hath glorified herself and lived deliciously and who said in her heart: 'I sit a queen, and am no widow, and shall know no sorrow; my joy shall continue forever!'

"Her plagues shall come in one day, death and mourning and famine, and she shall be utterly burned with fire. And the kings and the rulers of earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the mighty men, and the chief Captains, and the bondsmen, and the free-men who have lived deliciously with her and who bear the mark of the beast in their hands and upon their foreheads shall bewail her and lament for her, crying:

"'Alas, alas that great city Babylon, that mighty city!'

"And the merchants of the earth shall weep and mourn over her; for no man buyeth their merchandise any more: The merchandise of gold and silver and precious stones, and of pearls and fine linen, and purple, and silk and scarlet, and all thyine wood, and all manner vessels of ivory, and all manner vessels of most precious wood, and of brass and iron and marble. And cinnamon, and odours, and ointments, and frankincense, and wine, and oil, and fine flour, and wheat, and beasts, and sheep, and horses, and chariots, and slaves, and souls of men....

"The fruits that thy soul lusted after are departed from thee, and all things which were dainty and goodly are departed from thee, and thou shalt find them no more at all. The merchants of these things which were made rich by her shall stand afar off ... weeping and wailing and saying: 'Alas, alas that great city, that was clothed in fine linen and purple and scarlet, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls....' And every ship master and all the company in ships, and sailors, and as many as trade by sea ... shall cry when they see the smoke of her burning, saying: 'What city is like unto this great city?' And they shall cast dust on their heads, and weeping and wailing, cry: 'Alas, alas that great city, wherein were made rich all that had ships in the sea by reason of her costliness!'

"Babylon, Babylon, thine idols and graven images of gods shall be cast down and shattered utterly and forever! The voice of harpers, and musicians, and of pipers, and trumpeters shall be heard no more at all in thee; and no craftsman of whatsoever craft he be shall be found any more in thee; and the sound of a millstone shall be heard no more at all in thee; and the light of a candle shall shine no more at all in thee; and the voice of the bridegroom and of the bride shall be heard no more at all in thee; for thy merchants were the great men of the earth; for by thy sorceries were all nations of the earth deceived!"

Babylon, Babylon, thou fair city, thou proud world, thou wonderful emanation of men's minds, thou fair wanton, thou beauteous licentious harlot of gold and gems, and white linen, and silks, and of henna, and myrrh, and frankincense, and sweet-smelling herbs, no more shall thy sons and daughters rejoice in thee and worship thee! Thy grass shall be withered and thy fig trees shall cast their figs, and thy gold and silver, and thy diamonds, and rubies, and sapphires, and turquoise, and emeralds, and opals, and pearls, and topaz, shall lie scattered and in heaps for him to take who wisheth them, but none shall desire them.

No more shall thy daughters sit in the shadow of thy vines where nesteth the dove, and glorify thee in idle jest and laughter and song, and longingly wait for the coming of the night, for they shall be bereft of their silks, and their girdles, and anklets, and bracelets of gold and jewels. Thy songs and paeans of triumph and victory shall cease with the tainted stream of thy desires, and the walls of thy temples shall crumble to dust. Thy stars shall pale, and the sun and the moon shall illumine thee no longer, for the day approacheth when thy blandishments shall fail to allure.

Babylon, Babylon, thou proud city, thou who sitteth upon many waters, thou whose sway encompasseth the earth, how hast thou fallen!



XL

On the afternoon of the fifth day they drew rein on a high, shelving, terracelike stretch of ground overlooking a broad valley, and almost opposite the chief Tewana village which nestled at the foot of the Sahuaripa range, running north and south until lost on the horizon.

Back of the village a cataract flung itself downward over the mountain's side into the valley, its clouds of spray reflecting innumerable rainbow tints in the sunshine. Great forests, abounding in wild animal life, clothed the mountain's slopes.

It was a peaceful, fruitful valley upon which they gazed; the land where Chiquita formerly dwelt. The grass grew knee-deep in the meadows. Willows and water-birch and sycamore and alders and poplars, interspersed with pines and oaks, grew in clusters along the banks of the broad, rushing stream that ran between them and the distant village whose low, vine-clad walls glowed golden and rose and purple and gray in the rays of the afternoon sun. The diminutive city was a mass of trees and foliage and seemed a part of the landscape; so small were the houses and so harmonious its setting. Fields of flax and melons, and beans and squash, and corn and tobacco, and small orchards and vineyards already harvested, dotted the valley close to the meadows which bordered the tree-fringed stream. Herds of horses and cattle and flocks of sheep and goats, intermingled with wild herds of deer and antelope, browsed on the meadows and slopes above the river where they stood. Wild ducks and geese and swan swam in the river, and grouse and wild turkeys and quail and plover roamed the forests and uplands. There was no promiscuous killing of wild animals allowed among the Tewana; they were shared in common like the domesticated animals. Innumerable canoes, used for fishing, were drawn up on the banks of the river.

The Tewana were an independent, self-supporting people. At all seasons of the year were heard the sounds of the hand-loom and the smith's anvil—the fashioners of iron and precious metals. The weavers of cloth and baskets, and potters and tanners fashioned their wares in the open in the shade of their walls and trees.

The life these people led, free from the harassing cares and anxieties of the White man, was almost ideal. During the spring and summer months they tended their fields, and after the harvests were gathered in the autumn and the surplus produce stored in public granaries, they engaged in the chase; hunting only with the bow and spear—camping in the open, in the forests and plains until the advent of winter. During the ensuing months, until the coming of spring, the children were instructed by their parents in the industrial arts; taught the traditions of their people, and how to read and write, and to observe the courses of the stars and to forecast the weather and predict the nature of the seasons. With the coming of the seedtime, they entered the fields with their elders and learned to sow and tend and reap the crops.

Thus, by the time the child had attained the age of sixteen, he was thoroughly conversant with all that was necessary to meet the demands of life. He became an independent, self-supporting unit, while his constant contact with nature not only revealed the latter's secrets and the laws governing natural phenomena, but developed him physically and spiritually as only nature can. All orphaned children were adopted by the different families, and consequently, there were no outcasts or poor and ignorant among the people.

Every house was surrounded by a small plot of ground sufficient to supply the family with fruit, poultry, grain and vegetables; from two to three acres in extent. Their herds were held in common and permitted to run at will like the deer; requiring but little care.

The Tewana only produced enough to feed and clothe themselves. The use of money was forbidden among them, and trade and barter limited practically to the individual who, desiring something particular from his neighbor, procured the latter an equivalent in return.

They regarded material things as merely a means to an end, and considered it a disgrace for any one to accumulate wealth; for it was noted that one's spiritual development declined in the same ratio that his material possessions increased. Like the land, they held the forests and minerals and waters and animals in common. These were the sacred things, the gift of nature, and could not be bartered or sold. In their eyes, only the depraved soul of a peddler ever could have conceived the idea of turning them into merchandise. Naturally it had taken centuries of evolution to create this attitude—but they had attained. There was, however, no need of wealth. Since they enjoyed the earth's natural resources in common, there was enough and an abundance for all; placing the high and the low on a footing of material equality.

Four months' energetic labor was all that was required to produce the annual necessities of life, allowing the individual the greater portion of his days to devote to the development of his natural capacities. There were no idlers, the women sharing the responsibilities of life the same as the men. All contributed their services to that which was required for the good of the community; the maintenance of aqueducts and roads in the towns and the guarding of the herds. Aside from these slight duties, the individual was free to follow the bent of his desires. Those who refused to contribute such services were driven from the community and became nomads, but such instances were rare; all preferring to enjoy the benefits which civilization, combined with the greatest amount of liberty, bestowed upon the individual.

Opposite the chief pueblo, on the same side of the river occupied by themselves, stood the ruins of another town in a fair state of preservation. It differed greatly in appearance from the one opposite. It was compactly built, resembling more a modern Mexican town than the pure type of Indian pueblo. In answer to the Captain's inquiries concerning it, Chiquita smiled and said: "Originally there were sixty pueblos, averaging from two to three thousand inhabitants each; the number of inhabitants to which the size of our towns are limited. Owing to the new ideas that were introduced among us by the priests and traders that were permitted to visit us from time to time, many of our people sought to establish a new order of things; like that prevailing throughout the greater part of the world to-day. But in order that I may make clear what I am about to say, I must first tell you, that the Tewana are as quick to recognize and encourage talent and genius as were the ancient Greeks—that there are many artists among my people who have developed their arts to a high degree of perfection—poets, painters, sculptors and musicians.

"These artists, especially, became imbued with the new ideas, and instead of continuing to create for art's sake only, as had been the custom of their fathers, embellishing their houses and articles of use with their artistic creations, or spreading their poetry and music and national sagas abroad after the manner of the Minnesingers of old, they, with the others who had become affected, began to adopt new customs—to build churches and temples in which to worship and preserve their arts, and sought to introduce money and taxation and all that they entail among the people in order that the new institutions might be maintained.

"The disaffection became widespread, affecting about half the people. The White Cloud and my father did all in their power to persuade the renegades, as they were called, to return to the old ways again; maintaining that God dwelt in the open, not in temples, and that the works of man which entailed the burden of taxation for their maintenance, depriving man of his freedom, were not worth retaining. That it was not economy, but extravagance to maintain them, and an unnecessary waste of energy; for the instant man, in his material evolution, goes beyond the procuring of the necessities of life, he becomes immeshed in the creations of his own world and a slave to them. But in vain. They refused to listen to the wisdom of their words and only laughed in answer to their pleadings. Whereupon, the most terrible battles ensued; costing the lives of fifty thousand of our best fighting men and women; for among us, the women, like the men, are warriors, and quite as capable of self-defense. They likewise take part in all our games. In fact, they receive the same training in all things as the men in order that they may be equally fitted to bear the responsibilities of citizenship.

"Our women are trained for battle, not particularly to make warriors of them, but for the same reason that the Greeks placed athletics before all else. Not that they considered athletics superior to the other arts and sciences, but without physical perfection, they realized there could be no proper mental poise, no balance between mind and body. When you see our youth, our young men and women, contest for the honors in our games and military exercises you'll realize the truth of this. The entire nation gathers together once a year to witness these sports and exercises and judge the skill of the contestants. No Olympic games ever surpassed them. You shall see wonderfully beautiful men and women, the result of their training. Men and women who grow naturally from the ground up, like the tree or the flower. Believe me, your people don't know what it is to really live, to taste of the true joys of life; they only exist.

"Owing to the terrific loss we sustained during the rebellion, we were forced to make terms with the Mexican Government and pay an annual tribute like the rest of her people. It was my first introduction to battle. I don't think I shall ever forget those terrible days of slaughter. No quarter was shown, for we knew that defeat meant the extermination of our race. There ought to be about a hundred thousand of us left," she continued. "Twenty pueblos, in all were destroyed, and may their ruins long continue to stand as monuments of the folly of men!"

"But how about your schools and hospitals and asylums and prisons?" asked the Captain.

"Men who lead natural lives have no need of such things," she answered. "Nature is all sufficient and has provided all things for man's proper development. The man or woman who can not instruct a child in the things that are worth knowing and necessary to meet the demands of life, is a barbarian and only half civilized. Once a man becomes civilized, the civilizing process ends. A man's spiritual growth is not dependent upon his inventions, his sciences or his arts, but is a thing apart from mental growth. If this were not so, his hope of ultimate deliverance would be a delusion. Contagious diseases were unknown to us until introduced among us by white men. As for criminals, they are very rare among us. When all men have an equal opportunity in life there is no incentive to commit crime. Acts that are the result of sudden fits of passion, are not the acts of criminals, but the righting of a supposed wrong done the individual. But even these are rare. Should any one transgress the law, he is punished, not imprisoned. Only a fool would go to the trouble and expense of keeping a man imprisoned. A delinquent is punished so severely that he will not transgress the law a second time; for a second serious offense against society is punished usually with death. From what I have told you, you can gather that we are not the savages the world imagines men to be who lead a natural existence. You can see how easily we, with our knowledge and theirs, could lead them to the light."

"Is there nothing between the picture your people present and the world we know?"

"Nothing! What else could there be? After the final appraisement of things has been taken and they have been weighed in the balance and adjudged, this is the condition that must confront mankind, for no other condition offers man such unlimited scope for the development of his higher nature. What you see is the true picture of the delivered man. The Golden Age, or the Garden of Eden is no myth. Men once were free and remained so until they gave way to desire and established for themselves a world of delusion in which there is no permanency either of thought or possession. The traditions of all nations and all peoples, from time immemorial, tell of this state when men were free. They also predict the destruction of present-day society. The Utopias and Golden Ages depicted by poets and dreamers, though beautiful to dwell upon in fancy, are of the tissue of dreams. They will not bear analysis. They are merely other names for different forms of bondage; the same old romantic fallacies which we are forever meeting in works of fiction."

"And how long shall the world we know continue until the new dispensation comes to pass?"

"Until men overcome the fear of death! Then shall they be born anew and come into their rightful heritage. Then shall they grasp the spiritual significance of the Golden Age as voiced by the Prophet: When first the foundations of the Earth were laid; when the morning stars sang together and all the Sons of God shouted for joy, for we are they!"



XLI

On either side of the village, forming a vast semicircle, stood innumerable lodges and hogans, temporary structures erected by the inhabitants of the other villages, who had come to show homage to the Princess and the White Chief, as the Captain was called.

While gazing in the direction of the village which was too far distant for them to distinguish more than an indistinct outline of objects, they beheld two dark columns of horsemen issue forth from the center of the great semicircle of lodges and move slowly in their direction. Chiquita guessed their meaning. As a child she had witnessed the ceremony when her father, the Whirlwind, was proclaimed Chief of the nation.

Without pausing, they came trailing across the valley in two separate columns, thousands of horsemen and women, the men on the right hand, the women on the left; all riding bareback with simple riatas twisted around the horse's lower jaw. Save for their sandals and the skins of the panther and ocelot and jaguar, the Mexican leopard, which they wore clasped at the left shoulder by a golden, jeweled clasp, and which fell diagonally down across the body to the right knee, leaving the arms and shoulders and the greater part of the body bare and the left leg exposed to the hip, the women were as naked as the men who wore sandals and loin-skins only. Heavy clasps and bracelets and girdles of gold and silver, set with pearls and opals, and turquoise and topaz, and emeralds and sapphires, adorned their arms and waists.

Among the Tewana there was no distinction in authority between man and woman. Like the Amazons of old, the women carried long steel-tipped lances and shields and bows and quivers of arrows slung across their backs as did the men. The head of each Cacique or Chieftain of a hundred warriors or Amazons was adorned with a circlet of gold with a clasp of precious stones on the left side of the head holding a single eagle's feather that slanted downward across the left shoulder.

On they came, the half-wild horses prancing and plunging and snorting and neighing, their manes and the long black hair and braids of the men and women flying in the breeze; the lance tips and jewels and their naked, bronze bodies flashing and glistening in the sun; a wonderful, wild, picturesque, barbaric pageant, a voice from the past; magnificent specimens of manhood and womanhood; free men, exemplifying the fullness of life—the life that is worth living. The jewels and precious metals which they wore represented incredible wealth, but were regarded by them as objects of beauty only, for these were the Tewana, the people, who for the sake of freedom, had trampled material wealth under foot; had held Montezuma in check and resisted the encroachments of the Spaniard ever since the days of Cortez, knowing themselves to be a superior people and of more ancient origin.

A wild, weird chant that rolled and swelled in great undulatory waves of melody down the long lines of warriors, was borne to them on the breeze. The whole valley was filled with the song, the hills and mountains, reverberating and resounding, echoed back the refrain.

"'Tis the ancient chant of the kings!" explained Chiquita. "Of course we no longer go to war thus. Nevertheless, it is the ancient rite that must be performed so long as the Tewana remain a nation."

Nearer and nearer drew the advancing host, the volume of sound swelling and increasing, until splashing through the river and sweeping up the slope to where they stood, the leaders drew rein before them, and raising their lances on high, a mighty shout burst from the throats of the warriors, interrupting the song. Again and again the valley and mountains echoed and reverberated with the prolonged shouts and acclamations until the chant was taken up once more.

An eagle with widespread wings soared above them in the blue of heaven and seemed to accompany them as they swept along between the lines in the direction of the village; each company of warriors and Amazons, without interrupting the chant, raising their lances in salute as they passed. There was no doubt in the minds of the Tewana regarding Captain Forest's ability to rule as they gazed upon the man and the horse he rode. He was as tall and deep chested as the Whirlwind, while his piercing, hawklike gaze and face shone with the strength and determination of one born to command. The Chestnut tossed his great white mane in the air and neighed and plunged and curveted between the lines.

Truly the White Cloud had read the future well—the White Chief had come with the Princess.

On they rode, the song and acclamations of the warriors ringing in their ears, their gaze now scanning the faces of these wonderful people, now lifted heavenward to the eagle which floated overhead and continued to accompany them. Their souls thrilled with the exquisite joy of living which the scene and the surroundings inspired in them. A scene which men have dreamed of during moments of spiritual uplift, and have longed to behold and imitate and become a part of, and escape from the sordidness and pettiness of mundane existence and live the life of men where life is life and every breath is freedom; where the desire to live is dominant and the future holds no terrors, and each new day and sun and moon and procession of the stars are greeted with the joy that is born of living and hailed as emblems of the creative force that marks and animates the passing of the seasons.

At the end of the lines, on a slight eminence before the village, in front of a great gathering of aged men and women and children, stood the tall, erect figure of an ancient warrior and patriarch with long, snow-white hair that fell over his shoulders. Like the Amazons, he was clad in a jaguar's skin held in place by a golden girdle and clasps studded with jewels, and wore sandals on his feet. A circlet of gold wrought with runic symbols, to the left side of which was attached a raven's wing, encircled his head, while in his right hand he held a long willow staff or wand to which were attached seven eagle feathers that fluttered in the breeze.

It was the great Sachem, the White Cloud. A hundred winters sat upon his clear, broad arching brow, and yet the years seemed to rest lightly upon him. His benign, beaming countenance shone with an almost supernatural radiance that bespoke the gift of the seer. Without altering his position, he quietly signed to Chiquita and the Captain to dismount and approach. Meanwhile the warriors had gathered in a great semicircle in front of them. For some time the White Cloud continued to gaze at them in silent scrutiny, his large, dark, piercing eyes roving from Chiquita's face to the Captain's, in the seeming effort to fathom their thoughts and the very depths of their souls, as though to reassure himself of the truth of his prophecy.

"It is done. You have come at last, my children—the prophecy is fulfilled!" he began at length. Then, raising the staff which he held in his right hand and pointing directly upward to where the eagle continued to soar in great circles, he cried in a deep sonorous voice that all might hear: "Behold the sacred bird, God's sign and symbol; the sacred witness to the consecration of His chosen ones! For was it not written in the ancient runes that, after the coming of the White Child with a face like the sun, the ancient spirit of Hiawatha, the Red Man's Messiah, would revisit the world of men once more upon the back of an eagle to verify the truth of those words uttered by the White Child?

"Since the dawn of man's birth the centuries have waited for this day! Henceforth," he continued, addressing the Captain, "you shall be known unto all men as Soaring Eagle, the Winged Spirit! And you, Flaming Star, as the Giver of Life!" Then, planting the wand upright in the ground between them, he bade them take hold of it; Chiquita with the left hand and the Captain with the right, his hand above hers.

"By the power and sacred symbolism represented by this staff," he continued, "I invest you both with the supreme authority. And further, I call all men to witness that, the hand of Soaring Eagle rests above that of the Giver of Life, which signifies that his word shall outweigh all others in the Councils of the People." He ceased speaking and turned to the Captain as if awaiting his reply.

A prolonged silence ensued, during which the latter's gaze swept the vast conclave of horsemen and forest of lances that glittered in the sunlight and the wild mountains beyond which towered above the valley and had looked down upon the Tewana in the ancient days when his race was in the cradle of its infancy. Beside him stood the beauteous woman who seemed endowed with all the wit and graces the poets of the ages had attributed to the ideal woman. An inspiring, uplifting spectacle, far surpassing in its reality the vision of his dreams.

He had attained the goal. The responsibility had been laid upon him, and without hesitation he accepted the charge, and spake; his words being translated by Chiquita, were repeated in turn to the multitude by the White Cloud.

"Tewana, we accept the charge which you have imposed in us," he began quietly. "But understand, we come not to rule you; we come to guide you. It is time that you should learn to rule yourselves.

"The days of rulers have passed. Woe unto them that seek to rule, and woe unto the people that bows its neck to rulers! The message which we have come to deliver unto you, we deliver likewise unto all men and it shall go forth unto the uttermost confines of the earth." He paused, then raising his voice on high once more, he continued:

"Tewana, do you accept the terms? We come to guide you, not to rule you!"

A profound silence followed his speech. No sound was heard save the sighing of the wind among the warriors' lance tips and shields and their arrow-filled quivers, and the rustling of the seven eagle feathers attached to the White Cloud's staff.

"Tewana," he asked again. "Do you accept the terms?"

Again all was silence. Then, all of a sudden, a vibrant, ringing note, audible to all, the scream of the eagle, came floating downward, clear and bell-like, from out the sky.

"'Tis the warning voice of the bird; the wisdom of the Ancient Ones!" cried the White Cloud. "The spirit of the Great Mystery has spoken once more!

"We accept—we accept!" And seizing the staff with his right hand, he raised it and made the sign of the cross above their heads. Then turning and facing the warriors, he raised the staff on high once more and cried in a loud voice:

"Tewana, earth-born Children of the Sun, salute your Chieftains!" A mighty shout went up from the entire multitude. Ten thousand bow-strings twanged on the air, and ten thousand arrows flew upward toward the sun.

Again and again the shouts of acclamation broke from the assembled multitude and swept over them in great waves of sound until valley and hills and mountains resounded with the cry, and then the people again took up the ancient chant of the kings whose refrain, filling the valley, swelled ever outward and upward to the great sacred bird that soared high aloft with widespread pinions in the pale azure of heaven.

"It is done—it is done!" echoed and reechoed the refrain. Few there are to whom the vision has been given, and fewer still that heed it.

THE END



Transcriber's note:

Minor typographical corrections are documented in the associated HTML version.