THE ARROW-MAKER A Drama in Three Acts BY MARY AUSTIN _Revised Edition_ AMS PRESS NEW YORK Reprinted from the edition of 1915, Boston First AMS EDITION published 1969 Manufactured in the United States of America Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 70-90082 AMS PRESS, INC. New York, N. Y. 10003 DEDICATED IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT TO H. C. H. AS ONE WHO AMONG MANY PROTESTANTS "MADE GOOD" PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION The greatest difficulty to be met in the writing of an Indian play is the extensive misinformation about Indians. Any real aboriginal of my acquaintance resembles his prototype in the public mind about as much as he does the high-nosed, wooden sign of a tobacco store, the fact being that, among the fifty-eight linguistic groups of American aboriginals, customs, traits, and beliefs differ as greatly as among Slavs and Sicilians. Their very speech appears not to be derived from any common stock. All that they really have of likeness is an average condition of primitiveness: they have traveled just so far toward an understanding of the world they live in, and no farther. It is this general limitation of knowledge which makes, in spite of the multiplication of tribal customs, a common attitude of mind which alone affords a basis of interpretation. But before attempting to realize the working of Indian psychology, you must first rid yourself of the notion that there is any real difference between the tribes of men except the explanations. What determines man's behavior in the presence of fever, thunder, and the separations of death, is the nature of his guess at the causes of these things. The issues of life do not vary so much with the conditions of civilization as is popularly supposed. Chiefest among the misconceptions of primitive life, which make difficult any dramatic presentation of it, is the notion that all human contacts are accompanied by the degree of emotional stress that obtains only in the most complex social organizations. We are always hearing, from the people farthest removed from them, of "great primitive passions," when in fact what distinguishes the passions of the tribesmen from our own is their greater liability to the pacific influences of nature, and their greater freedom from the stimulus of imagination. What among us makes for the immensity of emotion, is the great weight of accumulated emotional tradition stored up in literature and art, almost entirely wanting in the camps of the aboriginals. There the two greatest themes of modern drama, love and ambition, are modified, the one by the more or less communal nature of tribal labor, the other by the plain fact that in the simple, open-air life of the Indian the physical stress of sex is actually much less than in conditions called civilized. When the critics are heard talking of "drama of great primitive passions," what they mean is great barbaric passions, passions far enough along in the process of socialization to be subject to the interactions of wealth, caste, and established religion, and still free from the obligation of politeness. But the life of the American Indian provides no such conditions, and, moreover, in the factor which makes conspicuously for the degree of complication called Plot, is notably wanting,--I mean in the factor of Privacy. Where all the functions of living are carried on in the presence of the community, or at the best behind the thin-walled, leafy huts, human relations become simplified to a degree difficult for our complexer habit to comprehend. The only really great passions--great, I mean, in the sense of being dramatically possible--are communal, and find their expression in the dance which is the normal vehicle of emotional stress. In _The Arrow-Maker_ the author, without dwelling too much on tribal peculiarities, has attempted the explication of this primitive attitude toward a human type common to all conditions of society. The particular mould in which the story is cast takes shape from the manner of aboriginal life in the Southwest, anywhere between the Klamath River and the Painted Desert; but it has been written in vain if the situation has not also worked itself out in terms of your own environment. The Chisera is simply the Genius, one of those singular and powerful characters whom we are still, with all our learning, unable to account for without falling back on the primitive conception of gift as arising from direct communication with the gods. That she becomes a Medicine Woman is due to the circumstance of being born into a time which fails to discriminate very clearly as to just which of the inexplicable things lie within the control of her particular gift. That she accepts the interpretation of her preëminence which common opinion provides for her, does not alter the fact that she is no more or less than just the gifted woman, too much occupied with the use of her gift to look well after herself, and more or less at the mercy of the tribe. What chiefly influences their attitude toward her is worthy of note, being no less than the universal, unreasoned conviction that great gift belongs, not to the possessor of it, but to society at large. The whole question then becomes one of how the tribe shall work the Chisera to their best advantage. How they did this, with what damage and success is to be read, but if to be read profitably, with its application in mind to the present social awakening to the waste, the enormous and stupid waste, of the gifts of women. To one fresh from the consideration of the roots of life as they lie close to the surface of primitive society, this obsession of the recent centuries, that the community can only be served by a gift for architecture, for administration, for healing, when it occurs in the person of a male, is only a trifle less ridiculous than that other social stupidity, namely, that a gift of mothering must not be exercised except in the event of a particular man being able, under certain restrictions, to afford the opportunity. There is perhaps no social movement going on at present so deep-rooted and dramatic as this struggle of Femininity to recapture its right to serve, and still to serve with whatever powers and possessions it finds itself endowed. But a dramatic presentation of it is hardly possible outside of primitive conditions where no tradition intervenes to prevent society from accepting the logic of events. Whatever more there may be in _The Arrow-Maker_, besides its Indian color, should lie in the discovery by the Chisera, to which the author subscribes, that it is also in conjunction with her normal relation for loving and bearing that the possessor of gifts finds the greatest increment of power. To such of these as have not discovered it for themselves, _The Arrow-Maker_ is hopefully recommended. NOTE TO THE SECOND EDITION _The Arrow-Maker_ was first published as produced at The New Theatre, New York, in the spring of 1911. In that edition certain concessions were made to what was thought to be the demand for a drama of Indian life which should present the Indian more nearly as he is popularly conceived. After four years the success of the published play as an authentic note on aboriginal life as well as a drama suitable for production in schools and colleges, seems to warrant its publication in the original form. As it now stands, the book not only conforms to the author's original conception of the drama, but to the conditions of the life it presents. With the addition of notes and glossary it is hoped the present edition will meet every demand that can be made on an honest attempt to render in dramatic form a neglected phase of American life. M. A. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA In the order of their appearance CHOCO } PAMAQUASH } _Fighting men_ TAVWOTS } YAVI _A youth_ SEEGOOCHE _The Chief's wife_ TIAWA _A very old woman_ WACOBA _Wife to Pamaquash_ THE CHISERA _Medicine Woman of the Paiutes_ BRIGHT WATER _The Chief's daughter_ WHITE FLOWER } TUIYO } _Friends of Bright Water_ PIOKE } SIMWA _The Arrow-Maker_ PADAHOON _Rival to Simwa for leadership_ RAIN WIND _Chief of the Paiutes_ HAIWAI _A young matron_ THE ARROW-MAKER ACT FIRST THE ARROW-MAKER ACT FIRST SCENE.--_The hut of the_ CHISERA, _in the foot-hills of the Sierras. It stands at the mouth of a steep, dark cañon, opening toward the valley of Sagharawite. At the back rise high and barren cliffs where eagles nest; at the foot of the cliffs runs a stream, hidden by willow and buckthorn and toyon. The wickiup is built in the usual Paiute fashion, of long willows set about a circular pit, bent over to form a dome, thatched with reeds and grass. About the hut lie baskets and blankets, a stone metate, other household articles, all of the best quality; in front is a clear space overflowing with knee-deep many-colored bloom of the California spring. A little bank that runs from the wickiup to the toyon bushes is covered with white forget-me-nots. The hearth-fire between two stones is quite out, but the deerskin that screens the opening of the hut is caught up at one side, a sign that the owner is not far from home, or expects to return soon._ _At first glance the scene appears devoid of life, but suddenly the call of a jay bird is heard faintly and far up the trail that leads to the right among the rocks. It is repeated nearer at hand, perfectly imitated but with a nuance that advises of human origin, and two or three half-naked Indians are seen to be making their way toward the bottom of the cañon, their movements so cunningly harmonized with the lines of the landscape as to render them nearly invisible._ CHOCO _and_ PAMAQUASH _with two others come together at the end of the bank farthest from the_ CHISERA'S _hut._ CHOCO Who called? PAMAQUASH It came from farther up. CHOCO Yavi, I think. PAMAQUASH He must have seen something. CHOCO By the Bear, if the Castacs have crossed our boundaries, there are some of them shall not recross it! PAMAQUASH Hush--the Chisera--she will hear you! CHOCO She is not in the hut. She went out toward the hills early this morning, and has not yet returned. Besides, if the Castacs have crossed, we cannot keep it from the women much longer. PAMAQUASH (_Who has moved up to a better post of observation._) There is some one on the trail. (_The jay's call is heard and answered softly by_ PAMAQUASH.) CHOCO Yavi. But Tavwots is not with him. (YAVI _comes dropping from the cliffs._) What have you seen? YAVI Smoke rising--by Deer Leap. Two long puffs and a short one. (_The news is received with sharp, excited murmurs._) PAMAQUASH More than a score--and with all our youths we cannot count so many. CHOCO And this business of war leader still unsettled--The Council must sit at once. Go, one of you, and tell Chief Rain Wind that Tavwots has signaled from Deer Leap that more than a score of Castacs are out against us. PAMAQUASH And tell the women to prepare a gift hastily for the Chisera. Who knows how soon we shall have need of her medicine. (_One of the Indians departs on this errand._) CHOCO Never so much need of it as when we have neglected our own part of the affair! Even before the Castacs began to fill up our springs and drive our deer, we knew that the Chief is too old for war; and now that the enemy has crossed our borders we are still leaderless. PAMAQUASH So we should not be if we had followed the tribal use and given the leadership to years and experience. It is you young men who have unsettled judgment, with the to-do you have made about the Arrow-Maker. CHOCO I have nothing against years and experience, but when one has the gods as plainly on his side as Simwa-- YAVI Never have I seen a man so increase in power and fortune-- PAMAQUASH Huh--huh! I too have watched the growth of this Simwa. Also I have seen a gourd swelling with the rains, and I have not laid it to the gods in either case. But the Council must sit upon it. We must bring it to the Council. YAVI (_Hotly._) Why should you credit the gods with Simwa's good fortune since he himself does not so claim it? For my part, I think with the Arrow-Maker, that it is better for a man to thrive by his own wits, rather than by the making of medicine or the wisdom of the elders. PAMAQUASH (_From above._) Tst--st, Tavwots! (TAVWOTS _comes down the cañon panting with speed. He drops exhausted on the bank, and_ YAVI _gives him water between his palms from the creek._) CHOCO Have they crossed? TAVWOTS Between Deer Leap and Standing Rock--more than a score, though I think some of them were boys--but they had no women. CHOCO They mean fighting, then! YAVI Well, they can have it. TAVWOTS But they should not be let fatten on our deer before they come to it. Winnemucca, whom I left at Deer Leap, will bring us word where they camp to-night. In the mean time there is much to do. (_Rising._) CHOCO Much. No doubt Simwa will have something to suggest. TAVWOTS The Arrow-Maker is not yet war leader, my friend. I go to the Chief and the Council. (_He goes._) CHOCO And yet, I think the Chief favors Simwa, else why should he prefer to put the election to lot rather than keep to the custom of the fathers? YAVI (_Going._) There might be reasons to that, not touching the merits of the Arrow-Maker. PAMAQUASH Tavwots has met the women! (_Sounds of the grief of the women in the direction of the camp._) CHOCO They are coming to the Chisera. We should not have let them find us here; they will neglect their business with her to beset us with questions. (_To them enter three women of the campody of Sagharawite, carrying perfect-patterned, bowl-shaped baskets, with gifts of food for the_ CHISERA. SEEGOOCHE, _the Chiefs wife, is old and full of dignity._ TIAWA _is old and sharp, but_ WACOBA _is a comfortable, comely matron, who wears a blanket modestly yet to conceal charms not past their prime._ SEEGOOCHE _and_ TIAWA _wear basket caps, but_ WACOBA _has a bandeau of bright beads about her hair. They show signs of agitation, instantly subdued at sight of the men_.) SEEGOOCHE Is this true what Tavwots has told us, that the Castacs are upon us? CHOCO No nearer than Pahrump. Not so near by the time we have done with them. What gifts have you? TIAWA The best the camp affords. Think you we would stint when the smoke of the Castacs goes up within our borders? WACOBA Where is she? CHOCO Abroad in the hills gathering roots and herbs for to-night's medicine. Wait for her.--We must go look to our fighting gear. (_He goes out in the direction of the campody._) PAMAQUASH (_To_ WACOBA.) My bow case, is it finished? WACOBA And the bow inside it. See that you come not back to me nor to your young son until the bowstring is frayed asunder. PAMAQUASH If you do your work with the Chisera as well as we with Castac, you shall not need to question our bowstrings. (_Going._) SEEGOOCHE Leave us to deal--though if she cannot help us in this matter, I do not know where we shall turn. TIAWA Never have I asked help of her, and been disappointed. WACOBA (_Gathering flowers._) Aye, but that was mere women's matters, weevil in the pine nuts, a love-charm or a colicky child. _This is war!_ SEEGOOCHE (_Still peering about._) As if that were not a woman's affair also! TIAWA You may well say that! It was in our last quarrel with Castac I lost the only man-child I ever had, dead before he was born. When the women showed me his face, it was all puckered with the bitterness of that defeat. You may well say a woman's matter! SEEGOOCHE That was the year my husband was first made Chief, and we covered defeat with victory, as we shall again. It was Tinnemaha, the father of the Chisera, went before the gods for us, I remember. TIAWA Well for us that he taught her his strong medicine. Not a fighting man from Tecuya to Tehachappi but trusts in her. (_Goes to the creek and dips up water to drink in her basket cap._) WACOBA (_Tentatively._) It is believed by some that she makes medicine for Simwa, the Arrow-Maker, and that is why his arrows are so well feathered and fly so swiftly to the mark. SEEGOOCHE Simwa! Why, he scoffs at charms and speaks lightly even of the gods. TIAWA (_Giving the others to drink from her cap._) Aye; Simwa puts not faith in anybody but Simwa. SEEGOOCHE And with good reason, for he is the most skillful of the tribesmen. He has made all the arrows for the fighting men. Do you think they will make him war leader? WACOBA (_Ornamenting the basket she has brought with a wreath of flowers, which she plucks._) Padahoon will never agree to it. TIAWA But if Simwa is the better man? WACOBA The Sparrow Hawk is older, and has the greater experience. SEEGOOCHE Prutt! If age and experience were all, my husband would not ask that a new leader be chosen. Young men are keenest-eyed and quickest afoot. (_She moves up the trail looking for signs of the_ CHISERA.) TIAWA (_Going over to_ WACOBA, _aside from_ SEEGOOCHE.) So the Chief favors Simwa? I would not have thought it. WACOBA (_Significantly._) Seegooche's daughter is not married, and the Arrow-Maker has many blankets. TIAWA Ugh, huh! So the scent lies up that trail? Well, why not? WACOBA Why not? The Chief's daughter and the war leader? A good match. TIAWA (_Going across to the hut._) Aye, a good match!... Do you know, I have never been in the Chisera's house. It is said she has a great store of baskets and many beads. Let us look. SEEGOOCHE No, no; do not go near it. WACOBA (_Alarmed._) _Kima!_ Tiawa, she may be watching you. TIAWA (_By the hut, but not daring to enter it._) What harm to visit a neighbor's house when the door is open. Besides, she makes no bad medicine. SEEGOOCHE We know that she does not, but not that she could not if she would. TIAWA (_Returning reluctantly._) Why should we hold the Chisera so apart from the campody? Why should she not have a husband and children as other women? How can she go before the gods for us until she knows what we are thinking in our hearts? WACOBA (_Jumping up._) I have seen something stirring in the alder bushes. I think the Chisera comes! SEEGOOCHE Do not be seen too near the hut. Come away, Tiawa. TIAWA Have you the presents ready? (_The women take up their baskets hastily._) Hide your basket, Seegooche. It is not well to let all your gifts appear on the first showing, for if she is not persuaded at first, we shall have something of more worth. (_The_ CHISERA _comes out of the trail by the almond bushes, young and tall and comely, but of dignified, almost forbidding, carriage. She is dressed chiefly in skins; her hair is very long, braided with beads. She carries a small burden basket on her back, supported by a band about her forehead. She removes this, and drops it at the hut, coming forward._) THE CHISERA Friends, what have we to do with one another? Seegooche, has your meal fermented? Or has your baby the colic again, Wacoba? SEEGOOCHE We have a gift for you, Chisera. (_The women draw near timidly, each, as she speaks, placing her basket at the_ CHISERA'S _feet, and retire._) THE CHISERA (_Looking at the gifts, without touching them._) The venison is fat and tender; Seegooche, there is no one grinds meal so smoothly as you. The honey is indeed acceptable. (_After a pause, during which the medicine woman looks keenly at them._) TIAWA We do not come for ourselves, Chisera, but from the tribeswomen. SEEGOOCHE From every one who has a husband or son able to join battle. THE CHISERA (_Eagerly._) Is there battle? SEEGOOCHE Even as we came, there was word that the Castacs are camped at Pahrump, and before night our men must meet them. THE CHISERA And you ask me--? SEEGOOCHE (_Approaching appealingly and sinking to the ground in the stress of anxiety._) A charm, Chisera! TIAWA (_Approaching with_ WACOBA.) A most potent medicine, O friend of the gods! WACOBA That our men may have strength and discretion. That their hearts may not turn to water and their knees quake under them-- TIAWA (_Urgently._) May the bows of Castac be broken, and their arrows turned aside-- SEEGOOCHE For the lords of our bodies and the sons of our bodies, a blessing, Chisera! WACOBA That our hearths may be kept alight and our children know their fathers-- TIAWA When the noise of battle is joined and the buzzards come, may they feed on our foes, Chisera-- SEEGOOCHE O friend of the gods, befriend us! (_The women cast dust on their hair and rock to and fro while the_ CHISERA _speaks, lifting up their arms in an agony of entreating._) THE CHISERA Am I not also a tribeswoman? Would not I do so much for my people? But your gifts and your prayers will be acceptable to the gods, for of myself I can do nothing. (_She stoops to the gifts, but hesitates._) Who is this that comes? (_The young girls steal up noiselessly through the bushes, led by the Chief's daughter._ BRIGHT WATER _is lovely and young; her hair, flowing loosely over her shoulders and breast, is mingled with strings of beads and bright berries. Her dress of fringed buckskin is heavily beaded, her arms are weighted with armlets of silver and carved beads of turquoise; about her neck hangs a disk of glittering shell. She walks proudly, a little in advance of the others, who bunch up timidly like quail on the trail, behind her. The women, catching sight of the girls, spring up, frightened, and stand half protectingly between them and the_ CHISERA.) TIAWA It is the Chief's daughter. SEEGOOCHE What do you here? You have neither sons nor husbands that you should ask spells and charms. BRIGHT WATER How, then, shall we have husbands or sons, if the battle goes against us? THE CHISERA Well answered, Chief's daughter. BRIGHT WATER (_Surprised._) You know me? THE CHISERA I have heard that the loveliest maiden of Sagharawite is called Bright Water, daughter of Rain Wind, Chief of the Paiutes. SEEGOOCHE (_Going over to_ BRIGHT WATER.) You should have stayed in the wickiup, my daughter; you are too young to go seeking magic medicine. BRIGHT WATER The more need because we are young, mother. If the loss of battle come to you, at least you have had the love of a man and the lips of children at the breast. But we, if the battle goes against us, what have we? THE CHISERA Ay, truly, Seegooche, there are no joys so hard to do without as those we have not had. BRIGHT WATER Therefore, we ask a charm, Chisera, for our sweethearts; and, in the mean time, may this remind you-- (_She drops a bracelet in the_ CHISERA'S _basket._) WHITE FLOWER (_Going forward._) The scarlet beads from me, Chisera. I am to be married in the time of tasseling corn. TUIYO The shells from me, Chisera. Good medicine! PIOKE Strong Bow is my lover, Chisera. Bring him safe home again. (_The girls retire after dropping their gifts in the_ CHISERA'S _basket._) THE CHISERA (_A little stiffly._) You have no need of gifts. Am I not young, even as you? Should _you_ pray for your lover any more or less for the sake of a few beads? SEEGOOCHE (_Anxiously._) Be not angry, Chisera. They would repay you for the dancing and the singing. (_The_ CHISERA _gathers up the gifts that the older women have brought and goes into the hut. The girls take up their gifts, puzzled._) SEEGOOCHE I am afraid you have vexed her with your foolish quest. BRIGHT WATER Has the Chisera a lover also, that she speak so? SEEGOOCHE It is not possible and we not know of it, for since her father's death if any sought her hand in marriage, he must come to my husband in the matter of dowry. WACOBA No fear that any will come while she is still the Chisera. BRIGHT WATER She is the wisest of us all. TIAWA Wisdom is good as a guest, but it wears out its welcome when it sits by the hearth-stone. BRIGHT WATER She has great power with the gods. WACOBA So much so that if she had a husband, he dare not beat her lest she run and tattle to them. SEEGOOCHE She is our Chisera, and there is not another like her between Tehachappi and Tecuya. If she were wearied with stooping and sweating, if she were anxious with bearing and rearing, how could she go before the gods for us? TIAWA Aye, that is the talk in the wickiups, that we must hold her apart from us to give her room for her great offices, but I have always said--but I am old and nobody minds me--I have always said that if she had loved as we love and had borne as we have borne, she would be the more fitted to entreat the gods that we may not lose. SEEGOOCHE (_As the_ CHISERA _comes out of the hut._) If you are angry, Chisera, turn it against our enemies of Castac. THE CHISERA You know that I cannot curse. TIAWA Is it true, Chisera, that you make no bad medicine? THE CHISERA Many kinds of sickness I can cure, and give easy childbirth. I can bring rain, and give fortune in the hunt, but of the making of evil spells I know nothing. SEEGOOCHE But your father, the medicine man--he was the dread and wonder of the tribes. THE CHISERA Aye, my father could kill by a spell, and make a wasting sickness with a frown, but he thought such powers not proper to women: therefore he taught me none. WACOBA But you will bring a blessing on the battle? Oh, Chisera, they do not tell us women, but we hear it whispered about the camp that the men of Castac are five and twenty, and even with the youths who go to their first battle we cannot make a score of ours. It is the Friend of the Soul of Man must make good our numbers. THE CHISERA Even now I go to prepare strong medicine. WACOBA Come away, then, and leave the Chisera to her work. (_Going._) SEEGOOCHE May the gods befriend you. If we have your blessing, we care little for another's curse. (_Going._) THE CHISERA Stay. After all, we are but women together, and if a woman may give counsel, women may hear it. TIAWA Would we might hear yours to-day! THE CHISERA When the smoke of the medicine fire arises, so as to be seen from the spring, do you come up along the creek as far as the black rock. WOMEN Yes, yes! THE CHISERA When you hear the medicine rattles, stand off by the toyon. WOMEN By the toyon--yes! THE CHISERA But when the rattles are stopped, and the singing falls off, come up very softly, not to disturb the Council, and hear what the gods have said. If the men speak against it, I will stand for you. SEEGOOCHE Our thanks to you, Chisera, for this kindness. TIAWA And though you are a Chisera, and have strange intercourse with the gods, I know you a woman, by this token. THE CHISERA Doubt it not, but go. SEEGOOCHE Come away, girls. (_They go out, the girls with them. But_ BRIGHT WATER _lingers, and comes back to the_ CHISERA.) BRIGHT WATER Chisera-- THE CHISERA Chief's daughter? BRIGHT WATER Call me by my name. THE CHISERA Bright Water, what would you have of me? BRIGHT WATER Can you--will you make a charm for one going out to battle whose name is not spoken? THE CHISERA How shall the gods find him out, if he is not to be named? BRIGHT WATER (_Earnestly._) Oh, he is handsome and strong in the shoulders; the muscles of his back are laced like thongs. He is the bravest-- THE CHISERA (_Laughing._) Chief's daughter, whenever I have made love charms, they have been for men handsome and strong in the back. BRIGHT WATER (_Abashed._) I know not how to describe him. THE CHISERA (_Still smiling._) And his name is not to be spoken? (BRIGHT WATER _continues to look down at her moccasin._) If I had something of his: something he had shaped with his hands or worn upon his person, that I could make medicine upon-- BRIGHT WATER Like this? (_Takes amulet from her neck and holds it out._) THE CHISERA (_Taking it._) Did he give you this? BRIGHT WATER He made it. THE CHISERA (_Examining it._) It is skillfully fashioned. BRIGHT WATER Will it answer? THE CHISERA To make a spell upon? Yes, if you can spare it. BRIGHT WATER Shall I have it again? THE CHISERA When the time is past for which the spell is made. BRIGHT WATER Make it, then; a powerful medicine against ill fortune in battle. And this for your pains, Chisera. (_Holds out bracelet._) THE CHISERA (_Proudly._) I want no gifts. Keep your bracelet. BRIGHT WATER (_With equal pride._) The Chief's daughter asks no favors. THE CHISERA But if a Chisera choose to confer them? (_With sudden feeling._) What question is there between us of Chief's daughter and Chisera? We are two women, and young. BRIGHT WATER (_Uncertainly._) The Chisera is the friend of the gods. THE CHISERA And therefore not the friend of any tribeswoman? (_Passionately._) Oh, I am weary of the friendship of the gods! If I have walked in the midnight and heard what the great ones have said, is that any reason I should not know what a man says to a maid in the dusk--or do a kindness to my own kind--or love, and be beloved? BRIGHT WATER (_Moved._) Therefore take it (_offering bracelet again_) as one woman from another--and you shall make a charm for me for love. THE CHISERA (_Taking the gift._) I shall make it as though I loved him myself. BRIGHT WATER (_Startled._) Oh, I did not say I loved him. THE CHISERA (_Smiling._) No? BRIGHT WATER (_Studying the pattern of her moccasin._) Is it true, Chisera, that you have been called to the Council that decides upon the war leader who is to be chosen in my father's place? THE CHISERA I am to inquire of the gods concerning it. BRIGHT WATER (_Diffidently._) Chisera, I have heard--my father thinks--Simwa, the Arrow-Maker, is well spoken of. (_The first note of the love call is heard far up the cliffs. The_ CHISERA _starts and controls herself._) THE CHISERA (_Coldly, in dismissal._) Simwa needs the good word of no man. It shall be as the gods determine. (_Goes over to hut. The love call sounds nearer._) BRIGHT WATER (_After a moment's hesitation._) Farewell, Chisera. (_She goes._) THE CHISERA (_Looking up the trail._) Ah, Simwa, Simwa, what bond there is between us, when, if I but pronounce thy name in my heart, thy voice answers. (_The love call is repeated far up the cliffs above her hut, and she answers it, singing:_) Over-long are thy feet on the trails, O Much Desired!! Dost thou not hear afar what my blood whispers, Betraying my heart as the whir Of the night-moth's wings betray the lilies? (_As she sings_, SIMWA, _in full war dress, comes dropping down, hand over hand, from the rocks, until he stands beside her._) SIMWA Did you not hear me when first I called? THE CHISERA I heard you, Most Desired. When do I not? Even when I sleep, my heart wakes to hear you. The women have been with me. SIMWA You know, then? THE CHISERA That this very night a war party of ours must go out to meet the Castacs. SIMWA And before that there will be a Council to choose a war leader? Has the Chief told you? THE CHISERA Not since this latest word, but yesterday he bid me prepare a strong medicine, for he thought the election would be made by lot. But I did not tell him, O Much Desired, that I had already made medicine a night and a day to let the choice fall on you. A day and a night by Deer Leap on Toorape, where never foot but mine had been, I made medicine, and the answer is sure. SIMWA That I shall get the leadership? THE CHISERA When have the gods denied me anything that I asked for your sake, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite? SIMWA The Padahoon hunts on a cold trail, and there is nothing for me to do? (_He sits on the bank and the_ CHISERA _sits below him._) THE CHISERA Beloved, there is much to do, for before the shadow which lies between my feet has grown tall again, I must make medicine for the sake of this war; and I have spent so much on you, the power goes from me. Now, you must put your hand upon my heart, and nurse it warm, so that the people lack nothing of their Chisera. SIMWA Is that good, Chisera? (_Puts his arm about her._) THE CHISERA Very good, Friend of my heart. (_She leans upon his arm._) SIMWA (_Quickened by the caress._) Chisera, what did you do before I came? THE CHISERA Oh, then I lived in the dream of you. When I ran in the trails, my heart expected you at every turn, and in the dark of the hut the sense of you brooded on my sleep. But I thought it was all for the gods. SIMWA (_Fatuously._) Until I came. THE CHISERA Did I tell you, Simwa, that day when first you found me dancing in the sun--you had been gathering eagle's feathers for your arrows, do you remember?--I thought that day that you were of the gods yourself, for I was sick with longing, and the spring was in my blood. SIMWA And when I came again, what did you think? THE CHISERA That you were the man most deserving their favor, and that all the medicine I had learned until then was merely that I might persuade them for your sake. SIMWA (_Sitting up._) Chisera, when you go up to the Friend of the Soul of Man, you cannot be always asking for the tribespeople. Do you not sometimes ask for yourself? THE CHISERA What should I ask for when I have your love? SIMWA For friends, perhaps, who are to be rewarded, or those who have done you injuries? (_Watching her._) THE CHISERA (_Laughing._) Once, Simwa, before I was sure of you, I made a singing medicine to draw you from the camp. And you came, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, you came. (_Laying her hands on his bosom._) Did you not feel me draw you? SIMWA Often and often, as it were a tie-rope in my bosom between us. (_Letting go her hands and stretching himself preparatory to rising._) But I did not think it was your medicine. THE CHISERA What then? SIMWA (_Rising and walking about._) Your beauty and the wonder of your dancing. THE CHISERA Tell me, Simwa, in the beginning I know you did not believe; but now you understand the power I have from the Friend of the Soul of Man? SIMWA Surely; now that I am about to be made war leader by means of it. THE CHISERA (_Rising and going back to the feathering of the prayer-stick._) But I have heard the women gossiping at the spring-- SIMWA What did they say? THE CHISERA That Simwa does not believe in charms and scoffs at the gods. SIMWA That was true (_recovering_)--once. But now that I am become the most notable arrow-maker in Sagharawite-- THE CHISERA Now--now you do not scoff at the Chisera? SIMWA (_Embarrassed._) But it is not always well for a man to say what he thinks. If I were to tell in the campody whence my good fortune is, would not Padahoon do me some mischief for it? THE CHISERA But, Simwa, am I never to come to you as other women to the wickiups of their husbands? SIMWA What need, Chisera, when I come so often to yours? THE CHISERA The need of women to serve openly where they love. SIMWA But what service could you do me when you had lost the respect of the tribesmen? You know the tribal custom. It is not for the friend of the gods to dig roots and dress venison. (_Throws himself on the bank beside her._) THE CHISERA I have not found the gods any the less friendly since I have loved, Arrow-Maker; and I know not why it should seem strange to others that I should know love as--as we have known it. Only to-day the girls of the village came to me to buy a charm to keep their lovers safe in war. There was not one but dared to ask, even though she would not speak her lover's name for bashfulness. See, one of them gave me this to make medicine upon. SIMWA (_Taking it._) Bright Water gave you this? THE CHISERA (_Surprised._) How did you know? SIMWA I thought you said--that is, I have seen her wear it. Did she tell you from whom she had it? THE CHISERA Not by his name, but by the way he looked to her. SIMWA How was that? THE CHISERA As every lover looks to every maid--tall and strong and straight of back. Even as you look to me, Beloved. SIMWA (_Relieved, giving back the amulet._) May your medicine preserve him. And, as for me, Chisera, I wish I could persuade the tribesmen to look as favorably on me as you do. THE CHISERA But you have no enemies. SIMWA The Sparrow Hawk, without doubt. Could you give me a curse for him? THE CHISERA (_Rising._) Ah, you should not have asked me that. Never since my father died have I thought to regret that he did not teach me the making of evil medicine. Would I had all the curses in the world! (_Turning piteously to him._) But you do not love me any the less because I have not one little, little curse to give you? SIMWA No, it is nothing. No curse can reach me past your blessing. But I would not have thought the old man would leave you wholly unprotected. Why, even I could wrong you, and, without a curse (_trying to speak lightly_) you could not punish me for it. THE CHISERA If no one does me no more wrong than you, Simwa, I need no cursing. But, in truth, my father did give me--Ah, now I have thought of another gift for you, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite! Before he died, the medicine man, my father--did I not tell you? (_she rummages eagerly in her medicine bag_)--gave me this magic arrow against my evil hour. (_Drawing it out._) See how heavy it is, and how the blood drain is cut in a medicine writing round and round the shaft. SIMWA What magic has it? THE CHISERA That however far and feebly it is shot, it flies straight to the mark, over hills and high mountains, in the dark or light, and death rides upon its shaft. (_Laughing._) Why, you could kill even me with this arrow. See, I have tied it in your quiver, so that you may not mistake it and shoot it away on any slight occasion. It is my latest gift to you, Beloved. SIMWA Thanks for the gift, Chisera. Now give me the quiver. I must join the others before the Council. The fighting men were painting their faces when I came. (_A war-whoop is heard at a distance._) THE CHISERA I hear shouting. SIMWA I must go quickly. I would not have Padahoon find me here. THE CHISERA Yes, he would brood upon it like a sage hen, until he had hatched mischief. Oh, Simwa, though I have prayed the gods until they and I are weary, to keep you safe in this war, yet my heart shakes to see you go. There is a beating in my breast as of the wings of vultures after battle. SIMWA You have wearied yourself too much making medicine. If you have no more faith in the gods, have a little in me. If I can go out of Sagharawite as war leader, I shall come back with the spoil of Castac. (_Shouts are heard nearer than before._) Now I go quickly! (_He turns carelessly from her lingering caress and crosses to the toyon, starting back at the sight of_ PADAHOON, _moving noiselessly through the chaparral, blanketed and watchful._) What! Has the Sparrow Hawk eaten _when-o-nabe_ that he must visit the Chisera on the eve of Council? PADAHOON I come from the Chief--but I had not expected to find Simwa, the scoffer, before me. SIMWA (_Uneasily._) I have been gathering eagles' feathers for my arrows under Toorape. PADAHOON Quite so--and are not the first hunter to find the shortest way past the house of the Medicine Woman. But it is well known that Simwa seeks no charms for himself. The Chief has been asking for you. (_He passes on to the_ CHISERA, _standing stiffly with strained attention by her hut._ SIMWA _hesitates, recovers himself, and passes out with the appearance of indifference._) Chisera, Rain Wind, Chief of Sagharawite, greets you, and bids me say that at the moth-hour he will be here with the fighting men to invite the favor of the gods in this war with Castac. THE CHISERA And before that--? PADAHOON There will be a Council-- THE CHISERA To choose a war leader. PADAHOON So the Chief has said. THE CHISERA And it is the purpose of the Council to put this election to the gods? PADAHOON It may come to that--(_A pause._) Chief Rain Wind is a dotard. What should a woman know of these matters? THE CHISERA All that the gods are thinking in their hearts. PADAHOON The gods, aye! But what word have the gods of the affairs of Sagharawite except as you carry it? Now between us--Chisera-- THE CHISERA What is there between us, Padahoon, that our talk should be otherwise than appears at the Council? PADAHOON There should be a matter of two doeskins, tanned white and fine (_he produces them from under his blanket_) if the gods are friendly. Look, Chisera! (_He spreads them out before the_ CHISERA, _who is seated by the hut, feathering a prayer-stick._) PADAHOON (_Dropping the doeskins negligently._) Oh, the man can make an arrow. THE CHISERA But not lead a war party? PADAHOON A war leader, Chisera, should be neither old and timid, nor young and overbold, but of middle years and discretion; not so hot in his heart that his head cannot reason with it, nor so reasonable that it cools his heart. (_As he stands again, his hands are folded inside his arms; he is not so sure of his errand_.) THE CHISERA Like ... Padahoon. PADAHOON (_Wheedling._) What will the gods think of a blanket of the Navajoes (_he spreads it out before her_)--thick and fine--and four strings of shells--and a cake of mesquite meal--? THE CHISERA Are the gods a-cold, Padahoon, that you bring them a blanket? Is there hunger in their camp, think you? PADAHOON Let the things stay in yours, Chisera; they will remind you to speak well of me when you go before the Friend of the Soul of Man. THE CHISERA Put up your pack, Padahoon! PADAHOON It is a little matter, Chisera; a handful of sticks thrown on the ground. What should the gods care for a handful of sticks? And the blanket is very thick. Shall I leave it a little while, that you may admire it? THE CHISERA Put up your pack, Padahoon, and learn not to think so lightly of the gods, lest they visit it upon you! PADAHOON (_Reluctantly putting up the bribe; after a pause, revolving new measures._) Chisera, this is a man's business which comes before you in the Council. Will you hear man-talk from me? THE CHISERA Is it possible the Sparrow Hawk does so much credit to my understanding? PADAHOON Chisera, we have had peace now at Sagharawite so many summers that scarcely a man of us besides myself has seen battle; also we are a little outnumbered. Have you thought, Chisera, what will come to Sagharawite if we go out under an untried leader? THE CHISERA What will come will be as the gods determine. What reason have you to think they will favor you more than Simwa? PADAHOON It is my experience, Chisera, that the gods are inclined to the better man. And, look you, Chisera, this is perhaps my last chance to serve my people. Comes another war, if there are enough of us left after this to make another war possible, I shall be too old for leadership. And I have that in me which I would prove before I die. This is man-talk, Chisera. Do you understand it? THE CHISERA I understand that you want greatly this election, but I can do nothing except as the gods declare. Put up your pack, Padahoon, I have work to do. (_Rising._) PADAHOON (_Putting up his pack._) How much did Simwa give you? THE CHISERA (_Startled._) Simwa! (_Recovering herself._) The Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite leaves all higher matters where they belong. PADAHOON Simwa put trust in the gods! Simwa believe that by singing and dancing and waving of arms, with a rag of buckskin and a hair of your head and three leaves of a seldom-flowering plant, you can turn the fortunes of war? This will be news for the fighting men, Chisera. THE CHISERA (_Quivering, but controlling herself._) Padahoon, now by this I am minded to prove what the gods can do against tale-bearers and snakes in the grass! (_Balancing her medicine stick for a moment, she seems on the point of invoking the gods against him, but thinks better of it._) Nay, but the gods have greater affairs. (_Sound of the drums in the direction of the camp._) Now I go to prepare strong medicine so that you shall know, Padahoon, how the gods choose between you and the Arrow-Maker. (_She goes into the hut and lets fall the curtain._) (_Enter_ PAMAQUASH, YAVI, _and other youths to prepare for the Council._) PAMAQUASH Is the Chisera advised of the Council? PADAHOON Even now she prepares herself in the wickiup. Where is the Chief? PAMAQUASH He stays only until the fighting men are gathered together. PADAHOON I will join them. See that the Chisera is not disturbed before her time. (_He goes out._) PAMAQUASH Over there in front of the wickiup, one of you light the medicine fire, but do not light it until the Chisera comes. (YAVI _and another prepare the fire._) YAVI How is it that the Chisera will discover the will of the gods? PAMAQUASH Spread a blanket there, where the Chief and the Chisera will sit--(_To_ YAVI.) By the casting of the seven sacred sticks. As the gods will they make the sticks to fall in a sign that she can read. YAVI Is it so that the Medicine Worker sometimes fails? PAMAQUASH Medicine men have died at it before now--and better so, for otherwise they should have died by the law. YAVI Is that the law? PAMAQUASH Surely, surely. For of what use is an advocate with the gods if he cannot get to them. It would be so with the Chisera. (_As the preparations have gone forward, the sound of the drums and rattles, with an occasional subdued whoop, has drawn nearer, and the Fighting Men, led by the_ CHIEF, _in full fighting gear, arrive in single file marching to the drums. The procession halts in the open space before the_ CHISERA'S _hut._) CHIEF Let the Council sit. (_Eleven of the elders seat themselves in a circle about the fire, turning toward the_ CHIEF. _The others stand or sit attentively in the background. The_ CHIEF _at the fire hands the ceremonial pipe to_ YAVI _who lights it._ RAIN WIND _blows a puff of smoke to all the gods, returning to his place in the Council; the pipe passes from hand to hand; when it has passed all about, each tribesman blowing smoke and saluting, the_ CHIEF _rises and stands before the_ CHISERA'S _hut_.) Chisera, Chisera, come to Council! THE CHISERA (_Advancing to his side._) Rain Wind, Chief of Sagharawite, what will you have of me? (PAMAQUASH _lights the medicine fire._) CHIEF To carry a matter too hard for us before the Friend of the Soul of Man. THE CHISERA Nothing that men contrive in their hearts is too hard for the gods. Speak, then! (_Goes and sits beside the_ CHIEF.) CHIEF (_Rising._) Tribesmen, for as many years as a fir tree needs to bear cones, I have been Chief in Sagharawite. Now I am old, and, like a badger, see only my own trail (_grunts of dissent_), and my legs carry me no farther than my eyes see. Therefore, since there is war with Castac concerning the piñon trees which are ours (_grunts and exclamations_), it is right you have a younger man to lead you. But, since it has never happened that there must be a war leader chosen while there is a chief alive and sitting in Council, I think it well to inquire how the gods stand toward us. Tribesmen, what do you say? (_Sits with great dignity._) CHOCO (_Rising and saluting the_ CHIEF _with lifted hand. Speaking with great deliberation and winning sober approval._) Chief Rain Wind has said. The occasion is strange and the candidates of such diverse but equal merit that it is impossible for a just man to choose between them. Let the Chisera carry it to the gods. CHIEF This is truth which Choco says--whom the gods will favor they favor. They are not greatly bound to the choice of men. THE COUNCIL Good counsel! good counsel! (_Assent from the bystanders._) TAVWOTS (_Continuing, with earnestness._) Tribesmen, I am not myself of two minds in this business. I speak freely for Padahoon according to our custom which is, without discredit to the Arrow-Maker, for the leadership of the elder. But at least let us remember that the gods have high affairs; they are not always listening to the gossip of the camp-fire and hut. What word have they of Sagharawite except as the Chisera carries it? If we put the choice to them, let her know what we are thinking in our hearts. Let Simwa and Sparrow Hawk declare it so that we and the gods shall know how they stand toward the conduct of this war. I have said. (_Seats himself amid general approval._) OLD MEN Good counsel! Good counsel! TRIBESMEN Simwa! Padahoon! The Arrow-Maker! Padahoon! CHIEF Padahoon, you have the more years; say what you will do. And do you, Chisera, bear it well in your heart as you go up before the Friend of the Soul of Man. THE CHISERA The trail of the gods is hard and none may walk therein save those that walk sincerely. Speak, then! PADAHOON (_Rising._) Chief and tribesmen, you know me. What I think in my heart, I say; and what I say I do. The piñon trees are ours, since the time of our father's fathers (_general assent_), and this is a vain fight for the men of Castac. Inasmuch as they have crossed our borders, they do evilly, but they are also Paiutes, as we are, and sons of the Bear. Aforetime when the Tecuyas came against us, they were as our brothers. Now, were I war leader, I should leave them at Pahrump and, going up behind the ridge of Toorape, strike at their villages. When we have their women and children and their stores, we can make terms with our brothers of Castac. So shall we save our honor and our allies. INDIANS Good counsel! Ugh! Huh! Padahoon! Good counsel! CHIEF Speak, Simwa! SIMWA (_Rising._) Shall I call a thief my brother, and is a poacher my fellow that I should respect him? Sons of the Bear are the men of Castac? Aye, bastard sons, and the coyote is their mother. (_Grunts and cries of approval._) The Castacs have filled up our springs and driven our deer. They have stalked our hunters in the hills. (_Grunts._) Aye, but we have given the stalkers arrows of ours to keep. (_Grunts of satisfaction._) Shall we go after our arrows, men of Sagharawite, or shall we wait until our "brothers" of Castac come and stroke us? I am not so old as Padahoon, nor so wise, but, by the Bear that fathered us, were I war leader for the space of one moon, there would be no more men of Castac to trouble our harvest. YOUNG MEN Simwa! Simwa! The Arrow-Maker! OLD MEN Padahoon! Padahoon! CHIEF Tribesmen, the wisdom of Padahoon is sound, and such as every man has in his own head; but the speech of Simwa is a water of mirage about our understanding. Shall we try what the gods will do? (_Nods and grunts of approval._) OLD MEN The gods--the Chisera--the Chisera! CHIEF The best of the spoil of Castac is yours, Chisera, if the choice be fortunate. THE CHISERA (_Rising to begin._) I want no spoil; this is also my quarrel. How will you have the venture tried? INDIANS The sticks! The sacred sticks! (_The_ CHISERA _produces the sticks from her medicine bag, and hands them to one of the Old Men. To each of the others who will dance with her (two or three) she gives a fetish from her bag. They have already put on appropriate headdresses and are prepared for dancing. She motions the rattles to begin. Behind her are the Old Men, with the drums and rattles; on each side, the Fighting Men seated on the ground. The dance begins, the_ CHISERA _singing. The Old Men keep up a crooning accompaniment; from time to time the Fighting Men join the singing and exhibit a growing excitement as the dance progresses. At intervals, one and another of them, leaps to his feet and joins the dance. At the last, the_ CHISERA, _whirling rapidly, falls to the ground. Instantly the rattles are stopped, and the people wait in suspense the word of the gods. The women are seen to steal up through the toyon bushes. The_ CHISERA _lifts herself slowly on one elbow, as if waking from a drugged sleep. She stretches out her hand for the sacred sticks. She drops them with a quick turn of the wrist, gathers them up and drops them again, seeking for an augury. She throws up the arm with the medicine stick and begins to chant_.) THE CHISERA The bows of Castac shall be broken. The bowstring shall break asunder. The bows of thy foes shall be broken and the vultures come to the battle. (_Excitement and confusion._) INDIANS The omen, the omen! the war leader! THE CHISERA (_Chanting_) The Maker of Arrows shall lead you. He that makes arrows of eagles' feathers, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, he shall lead you, Simwa shall break the bows of Castac. TRIBESMEN Simwa! (_The Indians break into a great shout for_ SIMWA. RAIN WIND _puts a collar of bears' claws about_ SIMWA'S _neck, lifts his war-bonnet and places it on his head._ SIMWA _raises his war-club with a great shout, dancing about the half-prostrate form of the_ CHISERA, _the Fighting Men one by one falling into the dance with wild exultant movements, chanting_.) The bows of Castac shall be broken! The bowstring shall break asunder! He shall break the bows of Castac! (_As they pass out on the war trail shouting, the women are seen to come to the help of the_ CHISERA.) CURTAIN ACT SECOND ACT SECOND SCENE.--_The campody of Sagharawite, three months later, near the new wickiup of the Arrow-Maker. At the right, the house of_ RAIN WIND, _and behind all a spring under a clump of dwarf oaks. A little trail runs between stones to connect the Arrow-Maker with the rest of the campody, and beyond it the valley rises gently to the Sierra foothills, brooding under the spring haze. A little to the fore of_ SIMWA'S _house lies a great heap of blankets, baskets, and camp utensils, displayed to the best advantage, the wedding dower of the Chief's daughter. By her father's house_ BRIGHT WATER _is being dressed for bridal by her young companions. They braid her hair, paint her face, tie her moccasins, and arrange her beads over the robe of white doeskin; they laugh as they work and are happily important as is the custom of bridesmaids. The older women are winnowing grain and grinding at the metate._ _At the left and front_, SIMWA, TAVWOTS, _and others are gambling with dice made of halves of black-walnut hulls, filled with pitch; the number indicated by bits of shell embedded in the pitch. They are shaken in a small basket and turned out on a basket plaque._ _The older men look on, smoking._ TAVWOTS _is broad-faced and merry, and does not neglect to ogle the girls at intervals, which causes them to giggle and hide their heads in their blankets. The men have on their holiday dress, especially the younger companions of_ SIMWA. TAVWOTS (_Throwing._) Five! SIMWA (_Throwing._) And five again! INDIANS Hi! Hi! TAVWOTS Four! SIMWA Seven! (_Exclamations._) SEEGOOCHE (_Bringing a blanket._) Here, let us spread the blanket where the newly married pair shall sit when first my daughter comes to her husband's house. (_The women assist her, spreading it in front of_ SIMWA'S _house._) TIAWA And this time next year, may you be a grandmother. SEEGOOCHE I pray so. To-morrow I shall go to the Chisera and get a charm to make it sure. WACOBA Does not the Chisera come to the wedding? SEEGOOCHE I wished it so, but Simwa has no faith in magic medicine. He thinks we show her too much respect because of her mumblings and wavings of arms. WACOBA It would have been neighborly to invite her. TIAWA I should be afraid lest some mischief came of this neglect. SEEGOOCHE So am I; but Simwa would not have her asked. (_She passes to her own hut and brings out grain and pine nuts, with which the other women fill their ceremonial baskets._) TIAWA No doubt Simwa feels that the gods have done so much for him that he can afford to dispense with an advocate. HAIWAI (_Who has approached unnoticed._) Small wonder he thinks so when you remember how he brought our men back scatheless with the spoil of Castac. Seegooche, I bring the best of my share to grace your daughter's wedding. (_Offers basket._) SEEGOOCHE (_Taking it and handing it about._) My thanks to you. (_Noticing the papoose which she carries strapped in a basket at her back._) And who is this that comes to my house uninvited? HAIWAI Nay, but he came to mine but five days since; and already he grips like a man! (_Showing him about proudly._) TIAWA Hey, little warrior! TUIYO Ah, let me have him, Haiwai! I will hold him carefully. (_Still seated, she reaches up her arms for the child and coos over it._) BRIGHT WATER Let me! (_Takes the basket from_ TUIYO _and rocks the basket, crooning._) Hey, little dove, hush, little dove, 'Tis the wind rocking Thy nest in the pine tree. Hey, little dove. WHITE FLOWER Chief's daughter, do you think you will be able to do so well by your husband? (BRIGHT WATER _gives back the child to its mother in great confusion_.) SEEGOOCHE Do not plague her. (_The women return to their work._) It is the way with maids, the nearer they are to mothering the less they wish to hear of it. TIAWA Still I would see the Chisera if I were you. It is a pity she is not invited. TUIYO (_Painting_ BRIGHT WATER.) Tell me, Seegooche, do I put the white on her cheeks too, or only on the forehead. SEEGOOCHE (_Alarmed._) No, no white at all, not on her wedding day. It is an evil omen. TUIYO (_Wiping it off hastily._) Then I will take it off again. All the misfortune be on my head. BRIGHT WATER Never fear, mother, I am so defended by happiness no evil could get near me. WHITE FLOWER Besides, the bride of Simwa need fear no omens. The luck of her husband will protect her. TUIYO (_With a final touch._) There, come to the spring and see how lovely you are. (_The girls all rise._) TAVWOTS That's bad medicine you make for us unmarried men. BRIGHT WATER (_Standing forth in her bridal array._) Is it so bad, Simwa? (SIMWA _answers with his eyes_.) TAVWOTS Already he is speechless, and I have staked him my collar of elks' teeth as a charm against it. BRIGHT WATER Tavwots, you have eaten meadowlarks' tongues. If you had a wife, you would keep her in a gambling basket. (_At the spring._) Now I need only flowers for my hair. Let us go get them. (_The girls go out._) TAVWOTS (_Throwing down his collar of elks' teeth._) By the Bear, Simwa, I do not know how it is you persuade the gods to be always on your side. First you are made war leader, then you marry the Chief's daughter, and now you have my collar of elks' teeth to top all. SIMWA (_Gathering up the stakes._) Will you take a chance to have it back again? TAVWOTS I would, if I had anything to stake you; but my luck has left me little but my shirt. SIMWA I will play you for that. TAVWOTS Not until after the wedding. (_Rises._) SIMWA As you like. Your shirt against the collar. Do you play, friends? FIRST INDIAN Not I. YAVI Nor I. The luck is all to Simwa. (_All rise._) TAVWOTS Yes. One would think he had been courting the Chisera. SIMWA (_Who has risen, turning sharply._) How? TAVWOTS I said I could not guess how you manage to be always winning, unless you have made love to the Chisera, and she has persuaded the gods for you. (_Slapping him on the back._) Why, this is the first time you were ever accused of love-making and looked sourly over it! SIMWA (_Smirking._) No fault of mine if the women like a good figure. TAVWOTS No advantage either from this time henceforward. Here comes Chief Rain Wind to marry you to his daughter. CHIEF (_Issuing from his wickiup in full holiday dress, blanketed._) Where is she? SEEGOOCHE She gathers flowers with her young companions. She comes presently. CHIEF Bid the married women prepare to bless the bridal. Are the guests all here? SEEGOOCHE Choco and the others who went out to hunt early this morning have not yet returned. CHIEF I would speak with them when they come. And Padahoon? TAVWOTS I do not know, unless he visits the Chisera. SIMWA (_Startled._) Padahoon? TAVWOTS So often does he go to her house, if he did not have a wife already, I should think he had an eye to her. The best cut of my next kill against my shirt, Simwa, that he goes to find ways to make good against you the loss of the leadership. SIMWA (_Complacently._) Padahoon cannot forgive me the victory at Castac. TAVWOTS Well, if the Tecuya Creek tribes keep up their quarreling, we are all likely to wish you had not killed off so many of their fighting men. SIMWA I shall deal with the Tecuyas as I did with Castac. TAVWOTS The gods were with you. Next time Padahoon may win the Chisera to be on his side. SIMWA (_Suspiciously._) What do you mean? Am I not war leader of Sagharawite? TAVWOTS So long as we and the gods approve you. But if I were the gods, and the Chisera came dancing before me-- CHIEF Tavwots, your wit misleads you. The Chisera is not a subject for jest or the favor of men; she is an advocate with the gods for us. TAVWOTS Well, the gods have a handsome advocate. I should give her anything she asked. (_Looking off._) See, bridegroom, the girls are dancing, and you not with them! (SIMWA _and several of the younger men go out._) CHIEF (_Detaining_ TAVWOTS.) Tavwots, what do you know of this Tecuya Creek matter? TAVWOTS More than I like to spoil a feast-day with. CHIEF Nevertheless, tell it. TAVWOTS They have forbidden all the campodies east of us from fishing in the river. Also they watch all the trails toward Toorape and take toll of passers. CHIEF On what grounds? TAVWOTS None, I think, except that they are able. A bowman of Tehachappi inquired of me how many fell at Castac, and I, thinking to glorify the tribe,--I told him. CHIEF What said he to that? TAVWOTS What I should have expected. He grinned upon me like a sick coyote and said, "They are poor allies, the dead." INDIANS Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! CHIEF Here are the hunters. They will know if there is mischief stirring. (_Enter from the left_, CHOCO, PAMAQUASH, _and others, carrying game._) TAVWOTS And with the Arrow-Maker's own luck! CHOCO So far as the quarry goes. CHIEF But not for the hunters--? CHOCO (_To him._) Send the younger men away. I have a word for you. CHIEF You, Fleet-Foot, Yavi, all of you--carry the game to the women and help them dress it for the feast. (_The young men take up the game and go out, leaving_ CHOCO, TAVWOTS, _and the Old Men with the_ CHIEF.) Let us hear your word, Choco. CHOCO (_Taking a long arrow from under his blanket._) What make you of that? CHIEF (_Examining it._) Tecuya Creek, surely. OLD MEN (_Handing it about._) Tecuya--Tecuya. CHIEF Where did you find it? CHOCO Where I like least to see it--in the body of a friend. MEN Ah--a--a--ah! CHIEF What friend? CHOCO Winnedumah. He went out to the hunt yesterday and was to have joined us this morning at Deer Leap. I found him by the crossing of the trails, with that through him. CHIEF Bad business. What say you it means? CHOCO That the Tecuyas think we dare not avenge it. CHIEF Dare not! Simwa must hear of this, but not on his wedding day. To-morrow we will take counsel. I would I might have a word with Padahoon. TAVWOTS He is there on the _barranca_; I will call him. Oh--ee, Padahoon! PADAHOON (_Appearing on the barranca._) What now? (_Ironically._) Can not the Arrow-Maker so much as take a wife without calling all the tribes to witness? (_Coming down the barranca, noting their gravity._) What has happened? Is the Council called? CHIEF For to-morrow. In the mean time there is this. (_Handing up the arrow._) PADAHOON (_Standing halfway down the bank as he examines it._) An arrow of Tecuya. Blood? Blood of Sagharawite? TAVWOTS Of Winnedumah. PADAHOON (_Blazing forth._) By the Bear that fathered us! It is likely to prove an open wound in the honor of Sagharawite. Not ten sleeps have passed since the last of our fighting men returned from the killing of our blood brothers, and already we have a witness to our folly! The Tecuyas are three to one of us. PAMAQUASH But the luck of Simwa is more than three times that of Tecuya. PADAHOON The fortunes of Simwa! What are they but the accidents of time and weather. A landslip on the trail, a rainstorm that wetted their bowstrings and left ours dry. The damp has slacked your wits, Rain Wind, that you are not able to distinguish between the Arrow-Maker and his luck. CHIEF The witness of the gods in his favor. PADAHOON The gods are not always so attentive. Where was the luck of the Arrow-Maker that it has not saved us from this? (_Shaking the arrow as he descends._) Show me something which we owe to Simwa if you would have me trust in him. CHIEF I will show you the pit of your own heart, Padahoon, and the adder that bites at the root of it. You are jealous of the fame and the office of Simwa, but you shall not sink your venom in the minds of the Fighting Men. PADAHOON I would I could sting them to understand that if Tecuya comes against us, they will not trust so much to luck as to war craft. CHIEF Understand yourself that whatever comes of this business of Tecuya, Simwa is still war leader. You are too old a man, Padahoon, to be told that whoever lessens the credit of the war leader saps at the strength of Sagharawite. PADAHOON Aye, I am an old man and in my dotage when I seek to set years of good faith and experience against the fortunate moments of a fool. CHIEF The Chief has spoken. No more of this until the Council. In the mean time, not a word to the women. It is an ill omen for a feast. (_He goes out, followed by all but_ TAVWOTS, CHOCO, PAMAQUASH, _and_ PADAHOON.) TAVWOTS (_Laying his hand on the shoulder of_ PADAHOON.) By the Bear, Padahoon, I have been on your side in this matter heretofore, but now I think the Chief is right. It is an ill business setting men against the war leader in time of danger. PADAHOON You too, Tavwots--you have looked at the lure of the Arrow-Maker's luck and do not see the snare which his want of wit spreads for your feet? TAVWOTS (_Uncertainly._) But if the fortune of Simwa is not his own, whence is it? PADAHOON Tell me, Tavwots, when another man seeks favor from the gods, by whom does it come? TAVWOTS By the Chisera. But what-- PADAHOON On the morning of the election, when I went from the Chief to advise the Chisera, I met Simwa by her hut. PAMAQUASH I also met him when I came back from Leaping Water to bring word to the women--he said he had been gathering eagles' feathers for his arrows. PADAHOON So he said to me. Feathers for arrows when every man had his quiver full at his back! TAVWOTS But Simwa puts no faith in magic medicine. Why, he has not even asked the Chisera to his wedding! PADAHOON No, not even though the Chief's daughter urged it. (_A pause full of significance._) TAVWOTS No, no! Padahoon! Unless the Chisera owned to it herself, I would not believe it. The Chief is right. The wound of your jealousy festers and corrupts your tongue. (_Turning his back on_ PADAHOON _he claps_ PAMAQUASH _on the shoulder._) Come and dance! CHOCO (_Gathering his blanket around him._) Even if the Chisera owned it, I would not believe it. (_The men move in the direction of the merrymaking and are met by the younger people, laughing and shouting for_ SIMWA. PADAHOON _watches them bitterly for a while, and, revolving many things, draws his blanket up and departs in the direction of the_ CHISERA'S _hut._) PAMAQUASH Come, Arrow-Maker, a speech for your bridal. (_Laughter and approval._) SIMWA (_Drunk with popularity._) The war leader loves deeds rather than talking. TAVWOTS We have seen what your fighting is like. Give us a speech. SIMWA Friends and tribesmen, the fortune of Simwa is Simwa. Does the Bear take weapons against the woodchuck, and shall the sons of the Bear make charms against their enemies? The spoil of Castac is in our camp (_cheers_) and our young men hunt within their borders. (_Applause._) If any of the tribes inquire where are the fullest harvests, the fattest deer, the prettiest maidens (_he flings his blanket about_ BRIGHT WATER), bid him look for the land of Simwa the Arrow-Maker. (_Shouts and laughter._) YOUNG MEN Come, now, a dance, a dance! Tavwots, dance for us! (_The cries increasing_, TAVWOTS _is pushed forward to dance, others cry for_ PAMAQUASH _and_ YAVI, _who join_ TAVWOTS, _laughing, to dance the blanket dance, all the others singing and keeping time with swaying bodies. The girls hover about the dancers, and as at certain points in the dance the Young Men attempt to cast their blankets about the heads of the girls, they duck and squeal. Finally, amid much laughter, each dancer captures a girl, rubbing his cheek against hers, the Indian equivalent of a kiss. With great merriment the crowd moves off in the direction of the mesa, disclosing_ PADAHOON _and the_ CHISERA, _who have come up unobserved_.) PADAHOON Come this way, Chisera. The girls are out on the _mesa_, dancing with the bride, and the women are grinding at the metate for the marriage feast. THE CHISERA But where is Simwa? PADAHOON With the bride, no doubt. Here is his wickiup, and here the marriage dower beside it. THE CHISERA All this? PADAHOON Never so many gifts went to a wedding in Sagharawite. Every woman whose man came back safe from the war gave a basket or a blanket, and Simwa gave all of his share of the spoil of Castac. THE CHISERA And that, I doubt not, is bitter for you to see, Padahoon. PADAHOON Why, as to that, Chisera, it is good to see spoil of our foes in the camp; but the fighting men of Castac were our blood brothers. See, here is the blanket where the newly married pair shall sit to receive the blessings of the fruitful women. THE CHISERA (_Bitterly._) But not the blessing of the Chisera. Never before, in my time, has there been a bride of Sagharawite but sent to ask my blessing. PADAHOON Aye, but Simwa does not believe in charms and spells. (_The_ CHISERA _seems about to break out angrily, but restrains herself._ PADAHOON _watches her narrowly as he speaks._) Look, Chisera! Is not the bride fair? Fit to set a man beside himself with desiring? THE CHISERA She is but a child. Her breasts are scarcely grown. No fit mate for a war leader. PADAHOON (_Watching her._) But a man so well furnished with wisdom need not look for it in a wife. Is it not so, Chisera? THE CHISERA Padahoon, why do you tell me this? PADAHOON (_With the appearance of candor._) As often as I came to your house to get medicine, you asked me for news of the campody, and seemed best pleased with news of Simwa, the war leader; and with reason, since he has become the most notable man of the Paiutes. Yet, when I told you he was to be married to-day to the Chief's daughter, you were slow to believe. Now tell me if I have lied, Chisera. THE CHISERA You have not lied, Padahoon, but Simwa, he has lied. How long have you known this? PADAHOON Since the time of Taboose. THE CHISERA And why not told me? PADAHOON How could I think the Chisera wished to know? It was a thing you might have heard from the women grinding meal or weaving baskets. But the Chisera does not often come to the village, except there is illness. THE CHISERA I have no time to gossip with the women. I have to go before the gods for them and their children. PADAHOON And now that you are told, what will you do? THE CHISERA Is there so much to do? PADAHOON Only to give him your blessing. THE CHISERA (_Bitterly._) Did I not give him that at Castac? (_Begins to search about among Simwa's effects._) PADAHOON What seek you, Chisera? THE CHISERA The arrow! the quiver! Surely Simwa does not dance at his wedding wearing his quiver? PADAHOON No; but when he is not wearing it, no man knows where he hides it. THE CHISERA (_Searching._) The quiver! I must find the quiver! PADAHOON 'Tis said he has a magic arrow in it of such power he would have it fall into no man's hands. THE CHISERA (_Muttering._) Aye, the arrow; the black arrow. PADAHOON Chisera, why does this marriage disturb you? THE CHISERA Padahoon, why should you think it disturbs me? PADAHOON You have come. THE CHISERA Why should not one maid come to the marriage of another? There is scarce two summers' difference between me and the Chief's daughter. PADAHOON Yes, but you come in your blanket. Such has not been your custom when you have come among us on errands of healing; then you dressed sumptuously, as befitted one bearing the word of the gods. Now you come like an angry woman who would hide what is in her heart. THE CHISERA (_With dignity._) Cover your own heart, Padahoon, lest I ask what mischief breeds in it to bid you observe me so much. I have not forgot that you would have paid me a blanket to be made war leader in the room of Simwa. PADAHOON (_With ugly insinuation._) Ugh! huh! Perhaps I had been as fortunate as the Arrow-Maker, if, instead of giving it, I had offered to share it with you. THE CHISERA _Kima!_ Padahoon, you do tempt me to try if I can curse. PADAHOON (_Conciliatory._) I have no wish to anger the friend of the gods, but I am a plain man wishing good to my campody, and it seems not good to me that Simwa has grown suddenly so great. THE CHISERA (_Recovering herself._) What has that to do with the Chisera? PADAHOON I have known this Simwa since he was first tied in a basket, and, though he has grown to be war leader, I think he is most like a pod of rattleweed that is swollen to twice its size at the end of the season, yet has no more in it than at the beginning. And I do not know how, without the help of magic medicine, he has come to be what he is with so little in him. THE CHISERA The Chief's daughter has trusted him. PADAHOON She loves him. (_During this scene bursts of Indian music and singing have been heard at intervals. It grows louder._ PADAHOON _and_ CHISERA _look off._) They come this way, Chisera. You are right. When a man has married so fair a wife, there is not much left to be done for him. THE CHISERA (_With bitter irony, as she moves over against_ SIMWA'S _hut and puts up her blanket._) I am not so sure. TIAWA It is Chisera. SEEGOOCHE (_With alarm._) Where is my daughter? (BRIGHT WATER _enters with the young girls, laughing and talking. Her hair is braided with golden poppies and falls over her shoulders. She sees the_ CHISERA _standing, tall and still, by_ SIMWA'S _hut, her whole figure shrouded in a blanket, which is drawn up to cover all of her face but the eyes._) BRIGHT WATER Who is it comes to my wedding uninvited? How her eyes burn upon me! SEEGOOCHE Hush! She will hear you. It is the Chisera. BRIGHT WATER The Chisera? Never have I seen her like this. But she has come to bring me a blessing. SEEGOOCHE Do not speak to her, my daughter; she is not in the humor for it. BRIGHT WATER Shall I not be courteous to the first guest who has come to my husband's house? Chisera, I am pleased that you have come to bless my marriage. THE CHISERA (_Out of her blanket._) Where is Simwa? BRIGHT WATER He comes soon. (_Going to her._) Last night I thought of you, and how you alone, of all Sagharawite, had kept away from my happiness-- SEEGOOCHE Let be, daughter. (_Pulling her sleeve._) It is ill stirring a coiled snake. (_To the_ CHISERA, _with intent to draw her off._) Come this way, Chisera, and I will show you the wedding presents. THE CHISERA (_Lowering her blanket a little._) Show me the Arrow-Maker. (_The elder men have entered, among them_ RAIN WIND.) CHIEF What is this? TIAWA It is the Chisera asking for Simwa. MEN Ah! ah! ah--ah! (_Exchanging glances of inquiry and amazement._) CHIEF Who is that behind her? WACOBA Padahoon! MEN Ugh! huh! CHIEF So? Why does she cover her face? TIAWA She makes medicine in her blanket. (_The Indians draw close in two groups, the women together and the men on the other side. They watch the_ CHISERA _uneasily._ BRIGHT WATER _stands a little apart, the bridesmaids moving timidly toward the elder women._) THE CHISERA (_Putting down her blanket._) The Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite is slow to the bridal. BRIGHT WATER He comes. He comes. (_The young men enter, with_ SIMWA _in their midst, painted and befeathered as befits a handsome man on his wedding day. Observing the_ CHISERA, _he checks and falters in his walk._) SIMWA Chisera! THE CHISERA Is it you, Simwa, who wed with the Chief's daughter? SIMWA You are come, Chisera--(_Wholly at a loss._) You are come-- THE CHISERA I am come to your marriage, Simwa, though I am not invited. BRIGHT WATER But now that she is here, Simwa, you will ask her to bless us? SIMWA (_Recovering himself with an effort._) Surely, surely. But the married women have not blessed us yet. (_Taking the bride's hand and leading her to the blanket. They seat themselves._) Come, Tiawa, have you no pine nuts in your basket? (_With an effort to carry it off jovially._) What! will you have my wife dig roots before her wedding year is out? (_The married women take up their baskets and begin the ceremony of sprinkling the bride with nuts and seeds in token of fruitfulness._) THE CHISERA (_Warningly._) Simwa! Simwa! (_The women leave off, huddling together, looking fearfully at the_ CHISERA.) SEEGOOCHE (_Getting between her and_ BRIGHT WATER.) What harm to you, Chisera, if the Arrow-Maker weds where he loves? THE CHISERA (_Looking steadily at_ SIMWA.) Aye--where he loves--(_Pleadingly._) Simwa! Simwa! (_She drops her blanket and turns away._) SEEGOOCHE (_Lifting her basket to her shoulder again._) Let us go on with the marriage. PADAHOON (_To the company._) If the Chisera knows any reason why this marriage should not go on, should she not say it openly? A word half spoken breeds suspicion faster than flies at killing time. CHIEF What talk is this of reasons? Have I not the disposing of my daughter in marriage? Reason enough, if I wish it so. PADAHOON That which is most reasonable to men, the gods see otherwise. (_A murmur begins in the camp, but_ SIMWA _takes it up instantly._) SIMWA He is thinking of the war with Castac. Truly, you were not eye to eye with the gods on that occasion, Padahoon. PADAHOON Were I so sure it was of the gods, I had not stood out so against it. CHIEF Was not Simwa approved of the gods through the mouth of the Chisera? THE CHISERA So you think. CHIEF Is there another Arrow-Maker so skilled between Tehachappi and Tecuya? Are any shafts better fashioned to fly straight to the mark? Is there any hunter knows more surely where the herds feed, or strikes quicker the slot of a deer? THE CHISERA As you think. CHIEF Let be this talk of reasons. This is mere woman's mischief, to nod and wink and to make signs with the eyebrows. A woman would have you think reason enough for marrying if she liked or misliked it. Chisera, this is no matter for the gods, but a plain mating of man and maid. THE CHISERA (_Flashing._) Since when have you talked with the gods, that you think to lesson me in their business? CHIEF Since you have been a father, to know reasons for the bestowal of daughters. (_Grunts of appreciation._) THE CHISERA (_Letting her blanket slip to her breast._) Know, then, that if these are your reasons, Rain Wind, there is no more meat in them than in the husk of acorns. If good fortune hangs on all Simwa's movements, it is by reason of the medicine I make that binds him in the favor of the Friend. SIMWA (_Leaning on his elbows, with the manner of being quite at ease._) You are very free with your blessing, Chisera, if it is so; for it is well known in the camp that Simwa, the Arrow-Maker, does not believe in charms, nor seek them. INDIANS (_Grunting in assent._) Ugh! huh! THE CHISERA (_Letting fall her blanket in a burst of indignation._) "Nor seek them!"--Ah! Simwa! Simwa! (_A short pause of embarrassment and consternation ensues. Then_ PADAHOON, _in a manner meant to seem impartial--_) PADAHOON The medicine of the Chisera is very powerful, but one must allow a little credit to the gods. Simwa was chosen war leader by the trial of the seven sticks. As the gods willed, they made the sticks to fall. Is it not so, Chisera? THE CHISERA (_Sullenly, from her blanket._) I do not know. I did not look. (_Letting fall her blanket and speaking proudly._) I had persuaded the Friend to give victory to the war leader. What should I care for the sticks? A day and a night I made medicine, and the sign was sure. I said "Simwa" and the gods confirmed it. (_The Indians remain silent, but draw a little away from_ SIMWA.) BRIGHT WATER (_Rising and turning toward her._) Chisera, why should you make medicine for Simwa? THE CHISERA Chief's daughter, do not ask. BRIGHT WATER Chief's daughter I am, and wife of the war leader. Why should you concern yourself with his affairs? THE CHISERA (_After a pause, with great dignity._) Because he loved me. INDIANS Ah! Ah--ah! Ah! SIMWA (_Laughing._) The Friend of the gods has eaten rattleweed. Does a man love a wild woman who goes muttering and waving her arms, when she should be weaving and grinding meal? Would he take a wander-thought to his bed, and have witless children? Sooner I had a snake in my hut to run and tattle to the gods of me. TAVWOTS (_To_ PADAHOON.) Now, if it is true that he owes his fortune to the gods, they have deserted him, else he would not speak so to a jealous woman. SIMWA (_Looking long at the_ CHISERA, _haggard and unpainted, her blanket trailing, and then to the Chief's daughter, and back again, all the eyes of the campody following._) Is there any comeliness in a witch, that a man should desire her? SEEGOOCHE (_Alarmed._) Simwa, Simwa! If you have no care for yourself, at least remember my daughter! SIMWA (_Rising._) Have no care, mother. If I do not believe she can bless, neither do you believe that she can curse. BRIGHT WATER Mother, let be. If this be true that she speaks, I am already cursed. SIMWA (_Going to his wife._) What have we to do with blessings or cursings? The Chisera is unsound in her mind. I have seen her dancing in the hills sometimes where I went to gather eagle's feathers for my arrows, and her madness has made a curious tale of it. BRIGHT WATER I would I might believe it. SIMWA (_With returning complacency._) Do you find it so hard to have a husband whom other women admire? PADAHOON Chief and tribesmen, if it be true that Simwa values charms so little, let him declare what it is he keeps sewed in his quiver so precious that he must hide it even on his wedding day. (_Murmurs. The_ CHISERA, _in alarm, endeavors to check_ PADAHOON. SIMWA _turns upon him with a snarl._) SIMWA _Kima!_ (_Wildly._) You cannot prove that I had it of the Chisera! PADAHOON (_Suddenly darting out two fingers from his mouth, moving them rapidly in the manner of a snake's tongue, with a hissing sound._) Snake of two tongues! Now I know you for the man you are, braggart and liar! SIMWA Coyote whelp! (SIMWA _grasps a war weapon, a stone tied in a crotched stick, from the heap of wedding gifts, and smites_ PADAHOON _to the earth, standing threateningly over him. The others stiffen into tense attitudes, drawing their blankets tighter, their eyes burning bright._ PADAHOON _draws the knife that hangs in a sheath at his neck._) CHIEF (_Putting_ SIMWA _back with a hand at his breast._) Peace! Though you are made my son by this day's work, you shall not usurp judgment. (_To_ PADAHOON, _as_ SIMWA _moves slowly back, his weapon lowered._) What charge do you make? PADAHOON (_Rising on his elbow to spit blood._) Thou art a liar, if ever there was one in Sagharawite, and have nothing which is not owed to the Chisera. CHIEF Speak straight, Padahoon, or, by the Bear, I shall let him kill you where you lie. PADAHOON Three nights after the return from Tecuya, I saw you at the Chisera's house--and again in the rains--and at the time of Taboose. CHIEF Is it so, Chisera? THE CHISERA It is so. PADAHOON Did you go there for love or profit? (SIMWA _lets slip his weapon from his hand to the ground._) CHIEF Simwa, if you were the son of my body, I should not know which to believe. SIMWA Believe him if you like. (_Sullenly._) If a skunk walk in my trail and leave a stink there, shall I go out of my way to deny that it is mine? No doubt the woman is both mad and shameless. (_Murmurs of indignation._) SEEGOOCHE (_Afraid, but furious._) Then if you are shameless, begone! Stay not to vex the marriage of a maiden. Go! Have to do with your gods, and leave my daughter. BRIGHT WATER Mother! Mother! THE CHISERA Shameless, am I, Seegooche? Then there is one of your blood shall know a greater shame. Great hunter does she think her man? Aye, but she shall come to dig roots for him when he fails of the hunt and be glad of the offal the other women give her for pity. For this I say to you, tribesmen of Sagharawite, that, though I cannot curse, yet I can take back my blessing. BRIGHT WATER All this is of no account, Chisera. No doubt you can contrive against the fame of Simwa and bespeak the gods to neglect him; I wait to hear what proof you have that he loved you. SEEGOOCHE Do not vex her, daughter, lest she turn the gods against you also. BRIGHT WATER No matter, mother. What Simwa bears, I can bear. What proof, Chisera? THE CHISERA What proof? (_She turns toward_ SIMWA, _faltering. He smiles contemptuously._) BRIGHT WATER That Simwa loved you. THE CHISERA (_Slowly, her eyes on_ SIMWA.) He came to my hut--in the night--Chief's daughter (_boldly_), even as he comes this night to yours. BRIGHT WATER (_Impatiently._) But did he love you? THE CHISERA He made me so believe. (_Looking about and noting the lack of conviction._) How else had he held me, since last the poppies bloomed, a lure to snare the favor of the gods? Does he say he was not blessed? Aye, twice blessed. (_She takes from her bosom the amulet._) Was it not this you gave me to make medicine upon, to keep your lover safe in war? Twice blessed he was; but, as I made my blessing, so do I break it. (_Drops the amulet and grinds it underfoot_.) INDIANS (_Moving uneasily._) Ah! Ah! THE CHISERA And this is the proof that I speak truly. From this day, whoever brings me arrows shall have medicine upon them without price, and who would have news of the passing of the deer shall have it for the asking. Only Simwa shall have nothing but his own wit and the work of his hands, and by what befalls, you shall know the truth. BRIGHT WATER By this I know the truth! You never loved him, or you would not now betray him. THE CHISERA (_Moving toward the trail._) And you, Bright Water, that think to lie in your husband's arms this night, know that I have lain there before you. And you shall not dare to laugh as a bride laughs, lest it be to him my voice in the dusk; and if he turns and sighs in his sleep, you shall wonder if he dreams of the Chisera. Long and anxiously you shall look in the trail when he is late from the hunt, and the men shall mock him that he could not keep the blessing he had got. (BRIGHT WATER _turns despairingly and sinks on the ground, holding her mother by the knees and sobbing bitterly. All the Indians draw away from_ SIMWA, _leaving him standing, discomfited, in the middle of the camp. All look with awe and dread at the_ CHISERA. _She produces a small medicine stick from under her blanket and twirls it with menace. Going._) As for you, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, though I cannot curse, yet am I the friend of the gods, and they have regard to me. Look well to yourself, Simwa. Look well. CURTAIN ACT THIRD ACT THIRD TIME.--_One year later._ SCENE.--_The top of Toorape, where the tribe has been driven by their enemies of Tecuya. The women and children hide in holes in the rocks. Off to the right on a jutting boulder, against the sky, stands_ YAVI, _as sentinel; two or three wounded lie about. Crouching over the fire are_ SEEGOOCHE, WACOBA, _and_ TIAWA, _showing in their dress and appearance the marks of a year of distress, as do all the others as they appear upon the scene._ YAVI (_To them._) St--st! WACOBA (_Rising._) Some one on the trail! SEEGOOCHE What is it? WACOBA (_To her._) Hush! YAVI The Sparrow Hawk! SEEGOOCHE News from the Fighting Men! TIAWA The gods grant it be good news! (PADAHOON, _weary and with disordered dress, comes clambering up the face of the cliff._) YAVI (_Calling down in a whisper._) What news? TIAWA Are the gods still against us? PADAHOON As they have been since the day the Chisera took away her blessing from the war leader. WOMEN (_Wailing._) Ai! Ai! (_Others come out of the rocks to join in the general grief._) WACOBA Could you but persuade her to give it back again. (_Hopefully._) PADAHOON If I cannot, then this is like to be the last fight of Sagharawite! WACOBA If you cannot, then must the chief enforce her, for since we were driven from our homes, neither the anguish of the women nor the hunger of the children has moved her. PADAHOON I will speak with her at once. (_He goes up among the rocks, and the women huddle wretchedly together watching._) WACOBA Do you think she will consent? SEEGOOCHE She cannot choose but do it. The men have kept her supplied with venison, but she must know that there is hunger in the camp of the women and children. WACOBA And that the Tecuyas have taken the best of our fighting men. TIAWA But no man of hers. I have always said--but because I am old nobody minds me--that if there was one of her household to go to battle, she would need no persuasion to go before the gods. I would Simwa had given her a child. WACOBA (_Aside from_ SEEGOOCHE.) Then you believe that he was her lover? TIAWA What else? Would any but a jilted woman sit and mope while our wickiups go up in smoke? WACOBA I would she had a child, but not Simwa's. One of that breed is enough. SEEGOOCHE (_Who has moved nearer the hut._) Hush, see the curtain! (_They start._) TIAWA It was the wind. SEEGOOCHE They say she has not made medicine since my daughter's marriage. WACOBA (_Looking off to the right where the mountains dip abruptly valleyward._) And to think that even now they must be fighting under Toorape. SEEGOOCHE Hush! Hush! (PADAHOON _and the_ CHISERA _come out of the hut. The_ CHISERA'S _whole appearance is of heartbreak and neglect. She leans against the boulders at the left, holding her blanket close, and answers_ PADAHOON _sullenly._) PADAHOON And is this all your answer? THE CHISERA The trail is cold between the gods and me. PADAHOON Then you will not make medicine? THE CHISERA And would not if I could. PADAHOON Have you turned renegade, Chisera, and side with our enemies of Tecuya? THE CHISERA No, Padahoon, but I see that no good comes of persuading the gods to do more for man than his natural destiny. PADAHOON You have always persuaded them to our advantage. THE CHISERA What good came of having Simwa made war leader? Had I not persuaded them to meddle with that business, the leadership would have fallen to you as the elder, and we should not now be without allies in our need. PADAHOON I am not sure the gods had so much to do with that: but if the mischief came through them, the gods must repair it. THE CHISERA I will not make medicine. Send the women away. PADAHOON What shall I say to them? THE CHISERA To count themselves already blessed in having those for whom they desire blessing. Tell them that to have loved and given the breast is enough to salve the wounds of loss. PADAHOON You are hard, Chisera. THE CHISERA I am jealous of their griefs. Their very pangs I envy them. Who is there of mine goes to this war that I should grieve for his wounding or look for his return? (_She looks bitterly toward the women who have crept from the caves to peer from the rocks in the direction of the fighting._) Persuade me no more, Padahoon. I will not do it. (_She disappears among the rocks to the left, and_ PADAHOON _turns to the women who crowd around him anxiously._) WACOBA Has she promised? TIAWA Will she help us? PADAHOON The Chisera will not make medicine. WOMEN (_Rocking themselves to and fro._) Ai! Ai! SEEGOOCHE Is it because our gifts are so small? She should consider how hard it is to get venison in war-time. PADAHOON Her heart is so full of bitterness that there is no room in it for the gods. WACOBA That is Simwa's doing--though he is your son, Seegooche, I must say it--there was no better Chisera between here and Tehachappi until he curdled her wisdom with his lies. TIAWA Ah, Simwa! I spit upon his name. (_The women spit between their teeth with sharp hisses._) WACOBA How the Chisera hates him! PADAHOON How she loves him! TIAWA (_Struck with this._) You think so? Yet there is not one word of the evil she said of him a year ago that has not come to pass. WOMEN Ai! Ai! On him and us. PADAHOON And hate would have been satisfied to strip him of his honors, but now she lets the whole tribe go down in the ruin of her love. WACOBA (_Hopefully._) Then if she loves him, perhaps he can persuade her. PADAHOON As well persuade the rattlesnake not to strike him. SEEGOOCHE If the Chief should insist, she would not dare refuse. PADAHOON There is little she would not dare. But you can try. WOMEN Let us bring the Chief. (_They go out._) THE CHISERA (_Reappearing cautiously._) Have they gone? PADAHOON To bring Rain Wind to command you. THE CHISERA Can he command the sap to rise or bid the deer-weed spring when there is no rain? My power is gone from me. PADAHOON Chisera, it is a grave matter to refuse service in time of war--be advised by the word of a friend-- THE CHISERA Has the Chisera indeed a friend? PADAHOON Have I not proved-- THE CHISERA Padahoon, when did you ever visit me for any but your own advantage? For what else did you stir me against Simwa, and why now do you seek my blessing but to make good against him the honor of which he has robbed you? Does any one of you bring me venison except for profit or grind my meal for love? PADAHOON Seeing how little good you had of the love of the Arrow-Maker, why should you desire it? THE CHISERA You spit poison like a toad, Padahoon, but your fangs are drawn. The Arrow-Maker never loved me. PADAHOON (_Approaching her with the manner of having gained a point._) If you have the wit to know so much-- THE CHISERA (_Commanding him from her with a gesture as she seats herself._) Padahoon, there is no more power in me than there is tang in a wet bowstring. (_She rocks her head between her hands._) It is gone from me as the shadow goes up the mountain. As the wild geese go northward at the end of the rains, so is my power--How shall I win it again who cannot win the love of man?... Ah, leave me, Padahoon, leave me! (_She covers her head with her blanket._) (_Enter_ CHIEF RAIN WIND, _stumbling blindly, led by his wife and followed at a respectful distance by the other women. He walks with dignity, in spite of his blindness, and has on all the insignia of rank except the war-bonnet._ SEEGOOCHE _has a hasty, eager manner, ingratiating but timid._) PADAHOON (_To them._) You will get nothing. CHIEF I do not come asking: I command. SEEGOOCHE No, no, do not be harsh with her! Let me speak, we women will understand one another. CHIEF (_Putting his wife aside._) Chisera. (_The_ CHISERA _starts at the tone of authority, but controls herself._) Friend of the gods. (_She makes a movement of protest._) I have that to say to you which should be said but once, which to say at all is shame to you. Great powers have been given you to turn the favor of the gods as a willow is turned in the wind. How is it you have not turned them when your people are in war and bad fortune? We are driven as hunted rabbits to hide in holes in the rocks, and our fighting men are outnumbered; even now we do not know if there be one left alive of them--Our tribe shall be as a forgotten tale unless you intercede for us. THE CHISERA (_Over her shoulder._) What? Is it possible Simwa cannot bring this affair to pass without the gods? SEEGOOCHE (_Breaking in eagerly._) Yes, yes; the gods are very great, there is nothing without them. THE CHISERA (_Still to the_ CHIEF.) Does Simwa ask it? CHIEF The chief commands it. SEEGOOCHE (_Cringingly._) No. No. Chisera, mind him not! He is not himself, the hunger and the loss of battle do distress him. We beg of you, we implore you, Chisera--we will bring gifts to you--gifts, Chisera. (_She looks about despairingly for a suitable gift, snatches a great rope of beads from the Chief's neck and drops it in the_ CHISERA'S _lap._) Spoil of our enemies when the war is over, and this to keep as a reminder--So--if only you will persuade the gods to friend us. THE CHISERA (_Lifting the collar and letting it fall._) And if I will not? (_Still with her eyes on the_ CHIEF, _ignoring Seegooche._) CHIEF Chisera, I am an old man, and I knew your father. We had much good talk together--I am very old--but I am not blind in my judgment as I am in my eyes. In war-time there is but one law for those faithless to the tribal obligation. You know it. THE CHISERA (_Drawing her blanket._) I know it. SEEGOOCHE (_Dropping to the ground and beating the earth with her palms._) Do not, do not refuse it, wise one, friend of the Friend! What has Simwa done that you should destroy us? THE CHISERA _You ask me that, Seegooche?_ SEEGOOCHE I know--you said--Such a small thing, Chisera. To love you a little before he loved my daughter. Young men do often so--and you were very fair and no doubt beguiled him--Ah, who could withstand you, daughter of the gods? (_Wheedling._) But your punishment is heavy upon him. THE CHISERA Is it so? SEEGOOCHE (_Thinking she has gained a point._) It is indeed as you said; he makes no more arrows, and his luck in the hunt is gone from him. And the men mock him. A war leader should not be mocked, Chisera. THE CHISERA No more should a friend of the gods, but Simwa mocked me. SEEGOOCHE (_Loosing hope._) He was mad, Chisera, he had eaten rattle-weed. But my daughter did not mock you. Think of my daughter! THE CHISERA When does your daughter ever think of me? SEEGOOCHE (_Broken and drooping._) Every day she thinks of you. When she is a-hungered, when her man brings her nothing from the hunt--as--you have said, Chisera. When she digs roots with the old women and no one prevents her for the sake of a child to be born. THE CHISERA (_With relish._) Does she dig roots? SEEGOOCHE With the barren women. Also her beauty goes, she is so thin with the famine. THE CHISERA (_Baring her arm._) I also am thin. (_From this moment some perception of the pervasive misery of the situation enters her mind and begins to color her speech._) CHIEF Hunger and sickness and war have come into the camp because you kept not your heart, Chisera. Yet a greater than all these shall come upon you if you forget your tribal obligation. THE CHISERA (_Rising on one knee._) What obligation have I owed, Chief Rain Wind, and not remembered it? CHIEF That which lies upon all that have power with the Friend of the Soul of Man. Only the gods can save us, and only you know the true and acceptable road to them. THE CHISERA (_Rising and moving toward her hut._) I am overweary for the road; let Simwa find it. (_An arrow, with a feather and a fragment of bark attached to it, is shot into the camp from the direction of the fighting._ PADAHOON _takes it up and carries it to the_ CHIEF, _the others crowding about._) CHIEF What was that? PADAHOON A message from the Fighting Men. CHIEF Read me the token. PADAHOON A vulture's feather and a bark of _whenonabe_. Defeat and flight. WOMEN Ai! Ai! (_They throw up their arms in despair._) CHIEF They will not be far behind their arrows. (_All listen. A faint whoop is heard._ PADAHOON _answers with his mouth covered with his hands. The rest of the women and children come out of the rocks. Fighting Men come clambering up the steep. They show torn clothing and streaks of blood. The women bring them the water-bottles as they drop upon the ground._ WACOBA'S _husband_, PAMAQUASH, _with an arrow in his side, leaps once in air and drops dead. His wife sinks on the ground beside him, rocking and moaning. One breaks his unstrung bow across his knees and stamps the pieces in the earth. Finally comes_ SIMWA, _his war-bonnet bedraggled._) SIMWA Ugh! Is it so I find the fighting men of Sagharawite--huddled together like rabbits when the coyotes are after them? WACOBA (_Scattering dust on her head._) Ai! Ai! My man, my man! SIMWA Be still, you fool! Would you call up our enemies with your noise? (_The wailing drops to a moan._) Put out that fire--they can sniff smoke as far as a vulture smells carrion. (CHOCO _stamps out the fire._) You, Choco, do you show your face to me, misgotten whelp of a coyote! It was you who led the fleeing. CHOCO (_Sullenly._) It was Tavwots. TAVWOTS By the Bear, you shall have a wound for that, though you ran too fast to have one in battle. (_He draws the obsidian knife at his belt._) PADAHOON Fools! (_He strikes up_ TAVWOTS' _arm; another Indian jerks_ CHOCO _by the ankles causing him to sit down._) Have you killed so many in battle, Tavwots, that you can afford to lose us a fighting man? (_The men subside, exhausted._) CHIEF Peace! Though I am too old for battle, yet am I master in the camp. What has happened? SIMWA We have shown the Tecuyas what running is like. TAVWOTS The gods send we have run fast enough to throw them off the trail, else they will attack before morning. (_Consternation among the women._) CHIEF (_To them._) _Kima!_ (_Their grief falls off to a whimper. To_ SIMWA.) Where met you? SIMWA Under Waban where they stayed to cook venison they had killed. We had every way the advantage-- TAVWOTS As much as rabbits when they have met with coyotes. They were three to one of us. SIMWA (_Ignoring him with an effort._) We were between them and cover--we were driving them toward Waban--but they sent one out against us armed--Chief and father, how do you think he was armed who put the sons of the Bear to flight? With a stick--a painted stick with feathers on it. (_Angry and protesting murmurs._) An old man with a stick, Rain Wind, and they ran before him like squaws who deserve a beating! Faugh! (_Native movement of disgust._) TAVWOTS (_Rising on his elbow._) You shall be sicker, Simwa, when you have eaten your words. That old man was Tibu, the medicine man of the Tecuyas. I knew him. SIMWA Then it was you, Tavwots, who broke and ran? TAVWOTS He came upon us with charms and spells. He had the gods on his side. CHOCO Our hearts were turned to water because of his evil medicine. CHIEF Are not the gods of Sagharawite stronger than the gods of the Tecuyas? TAVWOTS Not when we have one to lead us who despises their blessings. SIMWA Well, I believe in the medicine of Tibu. He has made old women of you. CHIEF Think no more of that. Let us consider what is to be done. (_Shadows of vultures appear on the rocks, attracted by the dead._ WACOBA _springs up from casting dust upon her head to flap them away with her blanket, which she spreads over the body of her husband._) PADAHOON (_As he motions to the men to move the body near the shelter._) Yes, it is time to take counsel when the birds of the air betray us to our enemies. (_The women gather together about the dead. One of them takes the place of the sentry who comes to Council. The men collect near the_ CHISERA'S _hut with the exception of_ SIMWA, _who remains seated, re-stringing his bow._ BRIGHT WATER _goes to him._) BRIGHT WATER Simwa, how long will you let your pride destroy us? SIMWA Is that a word for a man's wife? BRIGHT WATER It is a true one. Do we not know, you and I, that it is but pride that makes you stand out against the friend of the gods? Look at me, Simwa, is it not proved on my body that she spoke truly when she said that you throve only by her blessing? SIMWA Can you bear to admit so much? BRIGHT WATER Bear? What have I not borne? Have I complained when I dig roots? Have I quivered when I was mocked? Has there been any sign of shame on my face for all the scorne on theirs? Have I said, "Give me children," when the nursing mothers pitied me? Oh, I have borne, I have borne; but this I cannot bear. SIMWA What is now so hard? BRIGHT WATER To know that you and I know the truth and that you will see the tribe wiped out before you will admit it. SIMWA The truth? BRIGHT WATER That you were the Chisera's lover for the sake of what she could do for you, and your denial left her no way to prove it except by taking away the help of the gods from us all. Is not that the truth? SIMWA Would you have me ashamed before all men? BRIGHT WATER When have I not been ashamed since I married you? SIMWA Let her alone! They will kill her if she refuses to make medicine and then we shall be rid of her. BRIGHT WATER And you would permit that? (_He shifts uneasily under her gaze._) Simwa--(_With profound entreaty._) Simwa! SIMWA What is the witch to me? BRIGHT WATER My sister, I think, for she has loved you even as I have, to my sorrow. (_She turns away from him meditating some deep purpose, and from this time on the progress of that purpose in her mind is evident in her bearing toward her husband._) CHIEF (_Coming forward._) Let the Council sit. (_They sit as in_ ACT I.) Simwa, as war leader, what plan have you? SIMWA It wants not plans so much as men to do them. CHIEF Whatever is in any man's mind for the good of the tribe, let it be delivered. Observe not the rule of the elders, but speak at once. (_A moment, during which black looks are cast at_ SIMWA.) Will no one speak? PADAHOON Chief and tribesmen, once I gave counsel and you despised it-- CHIEF No more of that. Give counsel now. PADAHOON It is the same counsel, but time has not mended the occasion. Penned here on the edge of the precipice we can but starve. We must break through our enemies and strike at their women and their stores. TAVWOTS Every trail is watched. Not so much as a weasel can go in and out from Toorape and they not know it. PADAHOON With so many watchers, then, they cannot have much of a fighting force at any point. In an hour it will be dark; we shall go down by Deer Leap with the women and children, and stay not for fighting, but, fleeing for our lives, break through to their villages-- CHOCO But if they move on us to-night? If the vultures have already betrayed us--even now they may be within earshot? TAVWOTS If they come up with us before we reach Deer Leap it is to run into the wolf's mouth. PADAHOON I have thought of that. To-night they expect us to mourn our dead and go before our gods-- CHIEF So should we. PADAHOON That they may think so, leave one behind to sound the medicine drum throughout the night. So they shall fear to attack and expect an easier victory in the morning when we are exhausted with dancing to the gods. TAVWOTS But he that stays, what shall become of him-- CHIEF He shall die as becomes him (_rising_)--as becomes a chief of his people. (_Murmurs of consternation and then silence._) PADAHOON But another--whose counsels we prize less-- CHIEF It is the tribal use. None else too blind for the trail and too feeble for the sortie (_with grim humor_)--but I can drum. (_Solemn grunts of approval._) PADAHOON If we win through Deer Leap, we can make terms for you. Tribesmen, what say you? (_A pause._) TAVWOTS What I say is for myself only; but I go not out against the Tecuyas again unless the Chisera has blessed the going. THE COUNCIL Good counsel; good counsel! He has it! SIMWA There are two or three things to the making of fighting men, Tavwots, beside the blessing of women. TAVWOTS Two or three things, Simwa, that I think you have not: honor to win advantage and wit to keep what you have got. PADAHOON As for me, I am with Tavwots; but (_he looks at_ SIMWA)--the gods have no favors for unbelievers. TAVWOTS Nor have we, by the Bear! INDIANS (_Springing up._) Nor have we! No; by the Bear! Out with him! (_They hustle_ SIMWA. _One snatches off the war-bonnet, another the collar of bears' claws. Even the women strike dust upon him with their feet in an excess of contempt._) CHIEF Peace, tribesmen! TAVWOTS Perhaps we shall have peace when we have a leader against whom neither the gods nor women have a spite. Tribesmen, who shall lead the going out but he who planned it? INDIANS Hi! Hi! Padahoon! Padahoon! (_They fling the collar about his neck._ TAVWOTS _hands him the bonnet._) Hi! Hi! The Sparrow Hawk. PADAHOON Do not count on me too much with the Chisera; all this time I have kept in camp with my wound I have reasoned with her, but still she refuses me. CHIEF There shall be an end to that-- PADAHOON How then--? CHIEF Who denies service to the tribe in extremity must be dealt with as an enemy. (_Consternation._) CHOCO But a friend of the gods-- TAVWOTS Let the gods save her-- CHIEF There are times when the gods must be content to stand still and see what men will do. Who serves not us, serves our enemies. It is the law. PADAHOON (_Reluctantly._) It is the law-- CHIEF Death or good medicine--Speak, tribesmen! (_Above the silence of the Council is heard the deep, excited breathing of the women._) THE COUNCIL (_One after another._) Death. Death. Death or good medicine. It is the law. CHIEF (_To_ PADAHOON.) Bid her come. PADAHOON (_At the hut._) Chisera, come to Council! THE CHISERA (_Issuing, wrapped in her blanket._) Who sends for me? CHIEF Death is hot upon our trail. Stay him with your spells. MEN AND WOMEN Good medicine, Chisera, good medicine! THE CHISERA Have you not a war leader-- (_She stops, noticing the bonnet on_ PADAHOON--_looks from him to_ SIMWA.) PADAHOON Who invites your blessing, Chisera! CHIEF Make spells for thy people! THE CHISERA What have my people done for me that I should weary myself to make medicine for them? CHIEF Are you not respected above all women of the campody? Even in war-time-- THE CHISERA Ah--respect! What have I to do with respect? Am I not as other women that men should desire me? Are my breasts less fair that there should never be milk in them? CHIEF We honor you after the use of medicine men. What more would you have? THE CHISERA The dole of women. Love and sorrow and housekeeping; a husband to give me children, even though he beat me. CHIEF Love you have given, and sorrow you have got. Shame and defeat are your children. So it is always when power falls upon women. The word has passed in Council, Chisera; will you repair this damage, or will you die for it? THE CHISERA (_As her eye travels the circle of the camp._) I do not find the taste of life so sweet that I should turn it twice upon my tongue; but--(_Her gaze halts on_ SIMWA, _and all the attention of the camp seems to hang a moment in suspense as_ SIMWA _ignores her._) Do I die, then? PADAHOON Let Simwa die! INDIANS Ah--ah--! SIMWA What, old fox, are you out of cover at last? PADAHOON By whom trouble came into the camp, let it depart. Who prevented the wisdom of the gods at the throwing of the sacred sticks? By whose counsel were our allies of Castac destroyed? Who hardened the Chisera's heart so that she kept not our foes from us? INDIANS Simwa! Simwa! PADAHOON Sons of the Bear, do you think to win favor of the gods when you have one who mocks them in your midst? Would you see the backs of the Tecuyas? Would you win to your homes again? Let Simwa die! INDIANS Aye, aye. Let Simwa die! A judgment! A judgment! SIMWA (_Aside to his wife._) My quiver, hand me my quiver! CHIEF Simwa, as thou art a son to me, I fear the charge is just. But do you entreat the Chisera to go before the gods for us, then will this evil pass. SIMWA (_Rising._) And if I choose to have it said that when the tribesmen of Sagharawite took a woman to Council, only Simwa stood out against it? CHIEF Then must I give judgment. BRIGHT WATER Simwa! SIMWA (_Folding his arms._) It shall not be said of me that I have borne to take my life of a woman. THE CHISERA Whether you can bear it or not, it shall be said of you, for though I am unhappy, I am still the Chisera, and I declare unto you that neither the life nor the death of a broken man can avail to turn the gods. But you, Chief Rain Wind, and you tribesmen of Sagharawite,--if you must visit the loss of my power, let it be on your own heads, for you only are blameworthy. CHIEF This is no time for riddles, Chisera. THE CHISERA I mean none. What did Simwa other to me than the occasion allowed him? Was it his fault that he found me alone and love-hungry? Was it he who ordered that I should live apart where no woman could see how my heart went and give me counsel? Was it any fault but yours--you that kept me far from your huts lest I should see and carry word to the gods how unworthy you were! You that feared yourselves lessened when I walked among you with my power--Ai! Ai! Did you think at all what became of the woman so long as you had my medicine to help you? TIAWA (_Creeping forward._) So I said, so I said from the beginning. She was taught to be a Chisera, but she was born a woman! (_Excitement among the women._) CHIEF Your words are sharp, Chisera. THE CHISERA The fact is sharper. It has eaten through my bosom. CHIEF We meant the best--we judged you companioned by the gods. THE CHISERA Did ever a woman serve them the less because she had dealt with a man? Nay, all the power of woman comes from loving and being loved, and now the bitterest of all my loss is to know that I have never had it. (_She draws up her blanket._) BRIGHT WATER And not you only-- THE CHISERA You--? (_She turns away confounded._) SIMWA Wife--wife--if she finds the gods again, they will surely kill me. BRIGHT WATER Let them. Though I am your wife, I am the Chief's daughter, and the tribe is still something to me. I will save them if I can. Chisera-- (_The_ CHISERA _listens and turns slowly._) CHIEF Is that my daughter? TAVWOTS Hush! Perhaps she will move her! BRIGHT WATER Do you think yourself aggrieved so much, Chisera? Come, I will match sorrow with you, I and all these (_the women surge forward_), and the stakes shall be the people. Here is my pride that I throw down, in my bride year to know my husband an impostor. Have you any sorrow to match with that? WACOBA Since you wish a man so much, Chisera, here is mine whom the vultures seek. (_The women part to show the dead man stark in his blanket._) HAIWAI Would you have a child at your breast, Chisera, here is mine, for my milk is dried with hunger. (_She holds up her swaddled child which_ BRIGHT WATER _takes and holds toward the_ CHISERA, _who stands confused, for the first time acutely aware of their misery._) BRIGHT WATER (_Measuring the effect of her words._) Chisera, my breast is as fruitless as yours--but you ... you have ... good medicine. TIAWA Lay hold on the gods, Chisera, these are ills from which man cannot save us! (_The_ CHISERA _throws out her hands to signify the loss of her power, her blanket slips to the ground and she covers her face with her hands._) THE CHISERA Gone--gone! It is gone from me! BRIGHT WATER (_Signing to the women to hide the blanket._) By dancing you shall bring it back again--for the sake of the women and children--dance, Chisera! (_Her voice has a kindling sound, and the women echo it with a breath._) THE CHISERA Oh, I have danced until the earth under me is beaten to dust, and my heart is as dry as the dust, and all my songs have fallen to the ground. (_She begins to walk up and down excitedly._) With what cry shall I call on the gods, now my songs are departed? (_She begins to chant._) And my heart is emptied of all But the grief of women. (_The women watch her breathlessly; as she gradually swings into the dance, they seem to urge her with the stress of their anxiety._) All the anguish of women, It smells to the gods As the dead after battle, It sounds in my heart As the hollow drums calling to battle, And the gods come quickly. (_As she falters the tribe surges forward._) TRIBE Dance, Chisera, dance! (_She tries again and no strength comes--the men hold up their hands, palms outward, in the sign of prayer. The drum begins hollowly._) Come, O my power, Indwelling spirit! It is I that call. Childless, unmated-- (_Drums and rattles are brought out, at first cautiously, lest she take alarm and be turned from her purpose, but as the fervor of her dancing increases, with increased confidence._ SIMWA _remains seated at one side, watching her, his foot touching his quiver._ PADAHOON, _who has moved over near him, observes him narrowly in the interval of dancing._ CHISERA _sings._) Nay, I shall mate with the gods, And the tribesmen shall be my children. Rise up in me, O, my power, On the wings of eagles! Return on me as the rain The earth renewing, Make my heart fruitful To nourish my children. (SIMWA _is seen to strip the magic arrow from his quiver._) BRIGHT WATER Simwa, Simwa, what do you do? SIMWA No more than the gods will do to me if they hear her. THE CHISERA This is my song that I make, I, the Chisera, The song of the mateless woman: None holdeth my hand but the Friend, In the silence, in the secret places We shall beget great deeds between us! (_As she rises on the last movement of the dance toward ecstasy, the excitement rises with her, expressing itself in short, irrepressible yelps, at the highest point of which a scream from_ BRIGHT WATER _arrests the dancers._) BRIGHT WATER Chisera, the arrow, the black arrow! (SIMWA _shoots._) THE CHISERA (_Dying._) Ah, Simwa! (_Dies._) (_In the distance is heard the shout of the approaching Tecuyas._) CURTAIN GLOSSARY OF INDIAN WORDS AND PHRASES THE DANCES COSTUMES GLOSSARY OF INDIAN WORDS AND PHRASES The names and phrases used in _The Arrow-Maker_ were chosen from the culture area comprising the central valleys of California, from tribes belonging to or affiliated with the Paiute group. Exact definitions could not always be ascertained and frequently the meaning given by different villages differed widely. Whenever possible the nomenclature of the locality in which the incident occurred is preferred. _Choco._ "Fatty"; a nickname of doubtful origin, possibly from the Spanish _Chopo_. _Pamaquash._ "Very tall"; the Paiute equivalent of Longfellow. _Castac._ "Place of Springs"; a small valley in the southerly Sierra, from which the inhabitants take their name. _Yavi._ A common given name, meaning unknown. _Tavwots._ "Mighty Hunter"; a name given to the rabbit in Paiute lore. _Seegooche._ "Woman who gives good things to eat." Lady Bountiful. _Tiawa._ A familiar title frequently given to old women, like "Grannie." _Wacoba._ "Flower of the Oak"; oak tassel, also the plume of the quail. _Chisera._ Medicine Woman; witch. (See last chapter of _The Flock_ for account of the original Medicine Woman from whom the character was drawn.) _Tuiyo._ "Shining"; very bright. _Pioke._ "Dew drop." _Simwa._ Applied in humorous sense, meaning a "swell." _Padahoon._ The Sparrow Hawk. _Tecuya._ Oak thicket, _encinal_. _Pahrump._ Corn water. A place where there is water enough to grow a crop of corn. _Sagharawite._ "Place of the mush that was afraid." An Indian village named from the quaking, gelatinous mush of acorn meal. _Paiute._ More properly "Pah Ute": the Utes who live by running water as distinguished from the Utes of the Great Basin; one of the interior tribes of the Pacific Coast. "Friend of the Soul of Man." The Great Spirit; the Holy Ghost. _Toorape._ "Captain"; chief; a name given to one of the peaks of the Sierras. "The Sacred Sticks." A number of small sticks with peculiar markings. Divination was practiced by throwing them on the ground and interpreting the pattern in which they fell. _Haiwai._ "The dove." _Winnedumah._ "Standing Rock"; a legendary hero. _Tinnemaha._ Probably "Medicine Water." Mineral spring. Brother of the hero in the legend of Winnedumah. "Eaten meadowlarks' tongues." Said of one nimble of wit. With the idea that like cures like, Indians were accustomed to feed backward or defective children with associated parts of animals. _Whenonabe._ Bitter brush; a decoction of the bark producing colic and griping; a symbol of disaster. "Rattle-weed." _Astragalus_; produces madness when eaten. "Toyon." California Christmas Berry. "Snake-in-the-grass ... tattle to the gods." Snakes are believed to be the messengers and familiars of the gods; therefore the Paiutes tell no important matter in the summer when they are about. "To dig roots before her wedding year is out." A curse equivalent to barrenness. The work of digging roots was not performed by expectant mothers. "Wickiup." A wattled hut of brush, made by planting willow poles about a pit four or five feet deep and six to eight feet in diameter. The poles were then drawn over in a dome and thatched with reeds or brush. "Campody." An Indian village; from the Spanish _campo_. _Barranca._ A bank, the abrupt face of a _mesa_. From the Spanish. THE DANCES All tribal or emotional occasions among Indians are invariably accompanied by singing and dancing. These are frequently derived from the movements of animals and are both pantomimic and symbolic. The object of the medicine dance is to work up the dancer to a state of trance, in which he receives a revelation in regard to the matter under consideration. Some of these medicine dances are ritualistic in character and must be performed with great strictness, but in the case of the Chisera the dance is assumed to be made up of various dance elements expressing the emotion of the moment, combined by individual taste and skill. Power is supposed to descend upon the dancer as he proceeds. Sometimes the dance lasts for hours, and even for days before the proper trance condition is attained. Even then the revelation may not come until a second or third climax has been reached. The blanket dance is common throughout the Southwest, and possibly elsewhere. It is accompanied by a song which says, in effect, "How lovely it will be when you and I have but one blanket." By the young people it is not taken any more seriously than "drop the handkerchief" and other courtship games. COSTUMES While the scene of this play is laid among the Paiute peoples, there is nothing which makes it absolutely unlikely among any of the hunting tribes. Considerable latitude is therefore permissible in costume and accessories. The only indispensable thing is that all these should be kept within a given culture area. Every article of Indian use or apparel is determined by some condition of living, and it is a mistake to mix costumes from various tribes. Concessions must be made to the objections of the modern audience to the state of nudity which would be natural to the time in which the story is laid. But even making allowance for this, the tendency is always to overdo, to have too many beads and fringes and war-bonnets. No more than his white brother did the Indian wear all his best clothes every day. The blanket is the most considerable item of Indian equipment. At once by its quality, its color, and its pattern it announces something of the wearer's rank and condition. The way in which it is worn betrays the state of his mind as does no other garment. It is drawn up, shrugged off, swung from one shoulder, or completely shrouds the figure according as his mood runs, or it is folded neatly about the body to get it out of the way of his arms when he has need of them. Blankets would be worn to Council, but not going to battle. They would be worn by young and modest women on public occasions, but by old women only for warmth and protection. They are also worn as an advertisement of the desire for privacy. When an Indian is seen completely shrouded in his blanket, standing or sitting a little apart from the camp, he either has a grouch or he is praying. In either case it is not good manners to interrupt him. As far as possible the use of the blanket is indicated in the text. Always it may be safely taken as an indication of the wearer's attitude toward whatever is going on about him. --- Provided by LoyalBooks.com ---