hery young
cedar, and in the green of the crown they thrust the golden disks of
the flowers of the sun. She lifted the lion skin from the ground and
held it close as a garment, and stood alone against the terrace wall.
The people shrank and half feared to look at her lest the Dawn song be
a witch charm to enchant them.

Po-tzah had brought to Tahn-te the white robe of the priest who makes
sacrifice, and a long knife of white flint for which the sheath was
softest of deerskin, and the symbols painted on it were those of the
Father Sun and Mother Moon.

And while the maid held close the garment he had given her, and
chanted her Dawn song dreamily, Tahn-te lifted from the ground the
wing of the bluebird tossed aside by the medicine women who made her
ready for the sacrifice, and he placed it in the white band about his
own head so that he wore two instead of one, and then he lifted his
voice and spoke, and no other sound was heard but his voice, and the
low song of the witch maid.

"Men of Te-hua," he said. "If I speak not you will not know the
truth;--and it may be that you will live many days ere you believe
this truth! The maid who has come down from the hills is not a
stranger to Povi-whah--and has done no evil. The daughter of
K[=a]-ye-fah is this maid. She is K[=a]-ye-povi, the child who was
lost. All you people know of the years of the grieving of her father
who was strong for that which was good. His child has come back to
find her own people. On the trail she was lost, and evil magic of the
men of iron have made hard your hearts when she came to you. I have
waited until all the people were here to listen. Now I speak. To speak
at Pu-ye to the clan of Tain-tsain would not have been wise. They were
sent by the vision of the white priest to find a witch woman. It is
the child of K[=a]-ye-fah they find, and instead of glad hearts, and
glad speech, she is given by the Te-hua people only the crown of the
sacred pine. Let her own clan of the Towa Toan speak!"

A thrill of wonder ran through the crowd, but no kind faces were
there, and Tahn-te took from his medicine pouch the last seed of the
sacred medicine given to man by the gods. There had been many seeds
when they left Pu-ye. He knew he was daring the gods, and that the
penalty would be heavy. But her fearless face, and the music of her
Dawn song was payment for much.

And to the gods he would answer!

The gray dawn was gone, and the green dawn was merging in