ТОП просматриваемых книг сайта:
The Arrow-Maker: A Drama in Three Acts. Mary Hunter Austin
Читать онлайн.Название The Arrow-Maker: A Drama in Three Acts
Год выпуска 0
isbn
Автор произведения Mary Hunter Austin
Издательство Public Domain
(Giving the others to drink from her cap.) Aye; Simwa puts not faith in anybody but Simwa.
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?
(Ornamenting the basket she has brought with a wreath of flowers, which she plucks.) Padahoon will never agree to it.
But if Simwa is the better man?
The Sparrow Hawk is older, and has the greater experience.
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.)
(Going over to Wacoba, aside from Seegooche.) So the Chief favors Simwa? I would not have thought it.
(Significantly.) Seegooche's daughter is not married, and the Arrow-Maker has many blankets.
Ugh, huh! So the scent lies up that trail? Well, why not?
Why not? The Chief's daughter and the war leader? A good match.
(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.
No, no; do not go near it.
(Alarmed.) Kima! Tiawa, she may be watching you.
(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.
We know that she does not, but not that she could not if she would.
(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?
(Jumping up.) I have seen something stirring in the alder bushes. I think the Chisera comes!
Do not be seen too near the hut. Come away, 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.)
Friends, what have we to do with one another? Seegooche, has your meal fermented? Or has your baby the colic again, Wacoba?
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.)
(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.)
We do not come for ourselves, Chisera, but from the tribeswomen.
From every one who has a husband or son able to join battle.
(Eagerly.) Is there battle?
Even as we came, there was word that the Castacs are camped at Pahrump, and before night our men must meet them.
And you ask me – ?
(Approaching appealingly and sinking to the ground in the stress of anxiety.) A charm, Chisera!
(Approaching with Wacoba.) A most potent medicine, O friend of the gods!
That our men may have strength and discretion. That their hearts may not turn to water and their knees quake under them —
(Urgently.) May the bows of Castac be broken, and their arrows turned aside —
For the lords of our bodies and the sons of our bodies, a blessing, Chisera!
That our hearths may be kept alight and our children know their fathers —
When the noise of battle is joined and the buzzards come, may they feed on our foes, Chisera —
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.)
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.)
It is the Chief's daughter.
What do you here? You have neither sons nor husbands that you should ask spells and charms.
How, then, shall we have husbands or sons, if the battle goes against us?
Well answered, Chief's daughter.
(Surprised.) You know me?
I have heard that the loveliest maiden of Sagharawite is called Bright Water, daughter of Rain Wind, Chief of the Paiutes.
(Going over to Bright Water.) You should have stayed in the wickiup, my daughter; you are too young to go seeking magic medicine.
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?
Ay, truly, Seegooche, there are no joys so hard to do without as those we have not had.
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.)
(Going forward.) The scarlet beads from me, Chisera. I am to be married in the time of tasseling corn.
The