Now these Indians, who were the honestest fellows in all the world, and
never did harm to any one save their enemies, were in a sorry pickle.
For it is a bad thing to have nothing but water to drink, but to want
that is to be mightily dry. And the great Glooskap, who knew all that
was passing in the hearts of men and beasts, took note of this, and
when he willed it he was among them; for he ever came as the wind
comes, and no man wist how.
And just before he came all of these good fellows had resolved in
council that they would send the boldest man among them to certain
death, even to the village which built the dam that kept the water
which filled the brook that quenched their thirst, whenever it was not
empty. And when there he was either to obtain that they should cut the
dam, or do something desperate, and to this intent he should go armed,
and sing his death-song as he went. And they were all agog.
Then Glooskap, who was much pleased with all this, for he loved a brave
man, came among them looking terribly ferocious; in all the land there
was not one who seemed half so horrible. For he appeared ten feet high,
with a hundred red and black feathers in his scalp-lock, his face
painted like fresh blood with green rings round his eyes, a large
clam-shell hanging from each ear, a spread eagle, very awful to behold,
flapping its wings from the back of his neck, so that as he strode into
the village all hearts quaked.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142