ith the insolence which refused to
grow old though she had been mistress of many centuries.

Tahn-te the dreamer,--the student of mystic things, was subtly
conscious of that almost personal--almost feminine appeal of
Te-gat-ha. Strong in its beauty as in its battles--it yet retained a
sensuous atmosphere that was as the mingling of rose bloom and wild
plum blossom, of crushed mint grown in the shadows of the moist
places, and clinging feathery clematis, binding by its tendrils green
thickets into walls impregnable.

He could hear the beating of the tombe while yet out of sight of the
sentinel on the western wall of the terrace. Medicine was being made,
or dances were being danced.

While he ran through the forest his thoughts had drifted again and
again to the vision of the bluebird maid. Was she the earth form of
the God-Maid on the south mesa where the great star hung low? Was she
the Goddess Estsan-atlehi who wore for him the color of the blue earth
jewel sacred to her?--was she the shadow of the dream-maid of all his
boy days--the K[=a]-ye-povi who had gone from earth to the Light
beyond the light? All the wild places spoke of her, each stream he
crossed made him see the young limbs pictured in the pool--each bird
song made him remember the symbol sent to him by the vision--the world
was a sweeter place because of the vision.

It came even against his will between himself and the priest of the
robe who had called him "Sorcerer"--and who was the real general he
would have to do battle with in the near days. The others he scarcely
thought of, but that one of the wise tactful speech he must think of
much.

Then while he told himself that the thought of the men of iron must
never be forgotten for even the sweetest of forest dreams;--in that
same moment the rustling of the wind in the pinyons made him thrill
with the closeness of the remembered vision as no sight of living maid
had ever made him thrill:--might it be magic from Those Above to try
his strength? Might the memory of the maid and the pool, be akin to
that temptation of the babe and the arms of the mother outlined on the
shadows of the ancient graven stone?

That had plainly been false enchantment--and he had danced it away in
the prayer dance to the Ancient Father. It had not returned even in
his dreams. But the maid of the bluebird had not ever gone quite away.
So close she seemed at times that if he turned his head quickly in the
places of shadows h