Part 8 (1/2)

THE CHISERA

Beloved, there is much to do, for before the shadow which lies between my feet has grown tall again, I must make medicine for the sake of this war; and I have spent so much on you, the power goes from me. Now, you must put your hand upon my heart, and nurse it warm, so that the people lack nothing of their Chisera.

SIMWA

Is that good, Chisera? (_Puts his arm about her._)

THE CHISERA

Very good, Friend of my heart. (_She leans upon his arm._)

SIMWA

(_Quickened by the caress._) Chisera, what did you do before I came?

THE CHISERA

Oh, then I lived in the dream of you. When I ran in the trails, my heart expected you at every turn, and in the dark of the hut the sense of you brooded on my sleep. But I thought it was all for the G.o.ds.

SIMWA

(_Fatuously._) Until I came.

THE CHISERA

Did I tell you, Simwa, that day when first you found me dancing in the sun--you had been gathering eagle's feathers for your arrows, do you remember?--I thought that day that you were of the G.o.ds yourself, for I was sick with longing, and the spring was in my blood.

SIMWA

And when I came again, what did you think?

THE CHISERA

That you were the man most deserving their favor, and that all the medicine I had learned until then was merely that I might persuade them for your sake.

SIMWA

(_Sitting up._) Chisera, when you go up to the Friend of the Soul of Man, you cannot be always asking for the tribespeople. Do you not sometimes ask for yourself?

THE CHISERA

What should I ask for when I have your love?

SIMWA

For friends, perhaps, who are to be rewarded, or those who have done you injuries? (_Watching her._)

THE CHISERA

(_Laughing._) Once, Simwa, before I was sure of you, I made a singing medicine to draw you from the camp. And you came, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, you came. (_Laying her hands on his bosom._) Did you not feel me draw you?