On either side of the village, forming a vast semicircle, stood innumerable lodges and hogans, temporary structures erected by the inhabitants of the other villages, who had come to show homage to the Princess and the White Chief, as the Captain was called.

While gazing in the direction of the village which was too far distant for them to distinguish more than an indistinct outline of objects, they beheld two dark columns of horsemen issue forth from the center of the great semicircle of lodges and move slowly in their direction. Chiquita guessed their meaning. As a child she had witnessed the ceremony when her father, the Whirlwind, was proclaimed Chief of the nation.

Without pausing, they came trailing across the valley in two separate columns, thousands of horsemen and women, the men on the right hand, the women on the left; all riding bareback with simple riatas twisted around the horse's lower jaw. Save for their sandals and the skins of the panther and ocelot and jaguar, the Mexican leopard, which they wore clasped at the left shoulder by a golden, jeweled clasp, and which fell diagonally down across the body to the right knee, leaving the arms and shoulders and the greater part of the body bare and the left leg exposed to the hip, the women were as naked as the men who wore sandals and loin-skins only. Heavy clasps and bracelets and girdles of gold and silver, set with pearls and opals, and turquoise and topaz, and emeralds and sapphires, adorned their arms and waists.

Among the Tewana there was no distinction in authority between man and woman. Like the Amazons of old, the women carried long steel-tipped lances and shields and bows and quivers of arrows slung across their backs as did the men. The head of each Cacique or Chieftain of a hundred warriors or Amazons was adorned with a circlet of gold with a clasp of precious stones on the left side of the head holding a single eagle's feather that slanted downward across the left shoulder.

On they came, the half-wild horses prancing and plunging and snorting and neighing, their manes and the long black hair and braids of the men and women flying in the breeze; the lance tips and jewels and their naked, bronze bodies flashing and glistening in the sun; a wonderful, wild, picturesque, barbaric pageant, a voice from the past; magnificent specimens of manhood and womanhood; free men, exemplifying the fullness of life—the life that is worth living. The jewels and precious metals which they wore represented incredible wealth, but were regarded by them as objects of beauty only, for these were the Tewana, the people, who for the sake of freedom, had trampled material wealth under foot; had held Montezuma in check and resisted the encroachments of the Spaniard ever since the days of Cortez, knowing themselves to be a superior people and of more ancient origin.

A wild, weird chant that rolled and swelled in great undulatory waves of melody down the long lines of warriors, was borne to them on the breeze. The whole valley was filled with the song, the hills and mountains, reverberating and resounding, echoed back the refrain.

"'Tis the ancient chant of the kings!" explained Chiquita. "Of course we no longer go to war thus. Nevertheless, it is the ancient rite that must be performed so long as the Tewana remain a nation."

Nearer and nearer drew the advancing host, the volume of sound swelling and increasing, until splashing through the river and sweeping up the slope to where they stood, the leaders drew rein before them, and raising their lances on high, a mighty shout burst from the throats of the warriors, interrupting the song. Again and again the valley and mountains echoed and reverberated with the prolonged shouts and acclamations until the chant was taken up once more.

An eagle with widespread wings soared above them in the blue of heaven and seemed to accompany them as they swept along between the lines in the direction of the village; each company of warriors and Amazons, without interrupting the chant, raising their lances in salute as they passed. There was no doubt in the minds of the Tewana regarding Captain Forest's ability to rule as they gazed upon the man and the horse he rode. He was as tall and deep chested as the Whirlwind, while his piercing, hawklike gaze and face shone with the strength and determination of one born to command. The Chestnut tossed his great white mane in the air and neighed and plunged and curveted between the lines.

Truly the White Cloud had read the future well—the White Chief had come with the Princess.

On they rode, the song and acclamations of the warriors ringing in their ears, their gaze now scanning the faces of these wonderful people, now lifted heavenward to the eagle which floated overhead and continued to accompany them. Their souls thrilled with the exquisite joy of living which the scene and the surroundings inspired in them. A scene which men have dreamed of during moments of spiritual uplift, and have longed to behold and imitate and become a part of, and escape from the sordidness and pettiness of mundane existence and live the life of men where life is life and every breath is freedom; where the desire to live is dominant and the future holds no terrors, and each new day and sun and moon and procession of the stars are greeted with the joy that is born of living and hailed as emblems of the creative force that marks and animates the passing of the seasons.

At the end of the lines, on a slight eminence before the village, in front of a great gathering of aged men and women and children, stood the tall, erect figure of an ancient warrior and patriarch with long, snow-white hair that fell over his shoulders. Like the Amazons, he was clad in a jaguar's skin held in place by a golden girdle and clasps studded with jewels, and wore sandals on his feet. A circlet of gold wrought with runic symbols, to the left side of which was attached a raven's wing, encircled his head, while in his right hand he held a long willow staff or wand to which were attached seven eagle feathers that fluttered in the breeze.

It was the great Sachem, the White Cloud. A hundred winters sat upon his clear, broad arching brow, and yet the years seemed to rest lightly upon him. His benign, beaming countenance shone with an almost supernatural radiance that bespoke the gift of the seer. Without altering his position, he quietly signed to Chiquita and the Captain to dismount and approach. Meanwhile the warriors had gathered in a great semicircle in front of them. For some time the White Cloud continued to gaze at them in silent scrutiny, his large, dark, piercing eyes roving from Chiquita's face to the Captain's, in the seeming effort to fathom their thoughts and the very depths of their souls, as though to reassure himself of the truth of his prophecy.

"It is done. You have come at last, my children—the prophecy is fulfilled!" he began at length. Then, raising the staff which he held in his right hand and pointing directly upward to where the eagle continued to soar in great circles, he cried in a deep sonorous voice that all might hear: "Behold the sacred bird, God's sign and symbol; the sacred witness to the consecration of His chosen ones! For was it not written in the ancient runes that, after the coming of the White Child with a face like the sun, the ancient spirit of Hiawatha, the Red Man's Messiah, would revisit the world of men once more upon the back of an eagle to verify the truth of those words uttered by the White Child?

"Since the dawn of man's birth the centuries have waited for this day! Henceforth," he continued, addressing the Captain, "you shall be known unto all men as Soaring Eagle, the Winged Spirit! And you, Flaming Star, as the Giver of Life!" Then, planting the wand upright in the ground between them, he bade them take hold of it; Chiquita with the left hand and the Captain with the right, his hand above hers.

"By the power and sacred symbolism represented by this staff," he continued, "I invest you both with the supreme authority. And further, I call all men to witness that, the hand of Soaring Eagle rests above that of the Giver of Life, which signifies that his word shall outweigh all others in the Councils of the People." He ceased speaking and turned to the Captain as if awaiting his reply.

A prolonged silence ensued, during which the latter's gaze swept the vast conclave of horsemen and forest of lances that glittered in the sunlight and the wild mountains beyond which towered above the valley and had looked down upon the Tewana in the ancient days when his race was in the cradle of its infancy. Beside him stood the beauteous woman who seemed endowed with all the wit and graces the poets of the ages had attributed to the ideal woman. An inspiring, uplifting spectacle, far surpassing in its reality the vision of his dreams.

He had attained the goal. The responsibility had been laid upon him, and without hesitation he accepted the charge, and spake; his words being translated by Chiquita, were repeated in turn to the multitude by the White Cloud.

"Tewana, we accept the charge which you have imposed in us," he began quietly. "But understand, we come not to rule you; we come to guide you. It is time that you should learn to rule yourselves.

"The days of rulers have passed. Woe unto them that seek to rule, and woe unto the people that bows its neck to rulers! The message which we have come to deliver unto you, we deliver likewise unto all men and it shall go forth unto the uttermost confines of the earth." He paused, then raising his voice on high once more, he continued:

"Tewana, do you accept the terms? We come to guide you, not to rule you!"

A profound silence followed his speech. No sound was heard save the sighing of the wind among the warriors' lance tips and shields and their arrow-filled quivers, and the rustling of the seven eagle feathers attached to the White Cloud's staff.

"Tewana," he asked again. "Do you accept the terms?"

Again all was silence. Then, all of a sudden, a vibrant, ringing note, audible to all, the scream of the eagle, came floating downward, clear and bell-like, from out the sky.

"'Tis the warning voice of the bird; the wisdom of the Ancient Ones!" cried the White Cloud. "The spirit of the Great Mystery has spoken once more!

"We accept—we accept!" And seizing the staff with his right hand, he raised it and made the sign of the cross above their heads. Then turning and facing the warriors, he raised the staff on high once more and cried in a loud voice:

"Tewana, earth-born Children of the Sun, salute your Chieftains!" A mighty shout went up from the entire multitude. Ten thousand bow-strings twanged on the air, and ten thousand arrows flew upward toward the sun.

Again and again the shouts of acclamation broke from the assembled multitude and swept over them in great waves of sound until valley and hills and mountains resounded with the cry, and then the people again took up the ancient chant of the kings whose refrain, filling the valley, swelled ever outward and upward to the great sacred bird that soared high aloft with widespread pinions in the pale azure of heaven.

"It is done—it is done!" echoed and reËchoed the refrain. Few there are to whom the vision has been given, and fewer still that heed it.

THE END