THE
TRUCE OF THE MANITOU
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HERE
in the cloudless Northern summer the Beaverfoot
range lies out in
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the
blue |
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| Brooding
and silent, o’er each new-comer its old enchantments
are cast |
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anew.
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He sees in the great plain far below him lake
and river in silver lie,
The winds from the valley lift to blow him chants
of the ages passing by.
Voices
mysterious wild and haunting speak today as they
spoke of old, |
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the humble in the heart and the mind unvaunting
is the message |
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brought
and the secret told. |
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The Indian lad through lonely hours here watched
and fasted to prove his |
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worth, |
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there appeared to his quickened powers one of the
guides of the |
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tribes
of earth. |
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Well he knew that the lower creatures who walk or
swim or voyage the |
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air, |
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their likeness of form or features, gull, crow,
caribou, seal or |
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bear, |
10 |
After
their kind have each its Master, its guiding Sprit,
its tribal Soul,
To save from panic and self-disaster, to temper
with reason and self- |
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control.
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Who drills the ducks in late September, in floating
line or on whistling |
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wing? |
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bids the slumbering bear remember? Who guides the
run of the |
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salmon
in spring? |
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Who teaches the hawk the wondrous curving that builds
his spirals |
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against
the sun? |
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| Who
steers the flock of sea-snipe swerving to dart and
dip and flash as |
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one? |
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Who
but a great and brooding being, taking at will
the image of man, |
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with memory and foreseeing, the Thought of God for
his |
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feckless
clan! |
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The youth has climbed to his lonely station, the
rite is performed, the vigil |
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set, |
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solemn hours of expectation pass,—never one
that he will forget. |
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The sun is gone, and the gold-tipped ranges are
turned to mauve and |
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purple
and blue. |
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dusk comes on, and twilight changes to silence and
stars. The word |
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comes
through. |
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He sees in the dark between the boulders wondering
eyes that glow and |
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stare, |
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great horned heads and thrusting shoulders of a
herd of moose that |
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are
watching there. |
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Then a luminous Presence tall and splendid, in freedom
of beauty and |
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strength
of days, |
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| Took
form and spoke,—as doubt was ended,—searching
the lad with |
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level
gaze: |
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“Fear not, my son, what lies before thee.
I bring thee word from the |
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moose
thy kin. |
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door of their lodge is open for thee; be of good
heart and enter in. |
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“From near and far they are come to know thee,—the
mightiest bulls of |
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many
a herd,— |
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witness the Manitou’s truce and show thee
they too are bound by the |
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uttered
word. |
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“To these in loyalty and compassion shall
thy protection and love be |
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shown, |
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they in their simple strength and fashion shall
return thee caring like |
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thine
own. |
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“Little have they of understanding, being
but folk of the Dawning Mind, |
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to the Will of the All-commanding in goodness of
heart they are not |
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blind. |
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“Toward them thou shalt brook no hurt nor
treason; they are thy brothers |
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from
this day forth. |
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| With
them thou shalt share the Lesser Reason and be given
the |
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Knowledge
of all the North. |
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“I will be with thee in all thy goings, waking
or sleeping by day or night, |
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the rain on its march and the wind in its blowings.
Thy kinsman the |
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moose
will lend thee might. |
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“Thou shalt have eyes where others see not,
a heart for the trail where |
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others
faint. |
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| Ill-willed
nor wanton thou shalt be not, keeping thy senses
clean of taint. |
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“In thine hour of peril when none is near
thee, when evil threatens and |
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help
is far, |
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on thy brothers and they shall hear thee and aid
on the instant |
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wherever
they are. |
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“The Darkness has lightened. The Silence has
spoken. Go, and forget |
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not
and be strong.” |
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vision faded, the spell was broken. And the youth
who had pondered |
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long
and long |
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Arose and went down where the valley waited and
the thin blue morning |
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smoke
upcurled |
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| From
the silent lodges, with heart elated; a splendor
lay over all his world. |
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