sparks were reduced to dust, so small a quantity was there that all together there was only enough to fill an acorn cup. Then the other chiefs of the animals and trees and plants and birds gathered around while the wolf took a cup of bark and dipping it with the current of a spring, dropped into the water three tiny grains of the dust of life. This water of life was poured into the mouth of Red Hand and he moved. A compress of the water healed his wounds. Then the chosen band commenced to chant the ritual of the Ancient Guardians of the Mystic Potence. During the night of blackness they sang, reciting the life and adventures of Red Hand. He awoke but lay still with his eyes shut. He listened and learned the song. The wings of the eagles lifted him and bore him to a great waterfall. He heard the rushing of strong waters thundering down upon the craigs below. The whipporwill called and a light floated over the darkness.
Then the circle clustered closer and the brother who is the Bear touched the breast of Red Hand. All stood erect. The Bear grasped the hand of the Leader who was to be raised, though slain The Bear grasped his hand and by a strong grip raised Red Hand to his feet. All was darkness, but Red Hand lived. * * * *
The Ancient Guards called, each with his own peculiar cry. Red Hand recognized his friends. * * * *
Yiewanoh, who has passed through the initiation of the Ancient Guards, tells us the story of Red Hand.
It is a night of darkness inpenetrable. There is no sound save the waterfall and the river. In the forest the Leader, patient and listening, is waiting for the sign promised him. Will it be given? Yes, for the Birds and Beasts do not lie!
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