He stood in front of the woman.
"Listen," he said. "I speak to the white thrush. She cannot
understand my words, but her heart has called to my heart, and that
will teach her to know my meaning. Brethren, bear witness. An eagle
cares naught for a partridge, but an eagle calls to an eagle though
there be much water and many high rocks between. You know the lodge of
Onanguisse. It has fire, but no warmth. I am old, and age needs love
to warm it, but I am alone. First my wife, then my two sons, last of
all, at the time the chestnuts were in blossom, my daughter Mimi,--the
Master of Life called them one by one. I have washed my face, and I
have combed my hair, yet who can say I have not mourned? My life has
been as dead as the dried grass that thatches the muskrat's lodges.
When have any of you seen Onanguisse smile? Yet think not that I
stretch out my hands to the country of souls. I will live, and sit at
the council fire till many of you who are before me have evaporated
like smoke from a pipe. For I am of the race of the bear, and the bear
never yields while one drop of blood is left. And the Master of Life
has been kind. He has brought me at last a woman who has an eagle's
eyesight and a bear's endurance.
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