was exactly
above the point where the light was set ceremonially and regularly to
light the Indian god back to his own people!

A point of white flame above that shrine of centuries!

No eyes but his saw it at exactly that angle--of course it was not
meant for other eyes. It was meant that it should be seen by him alone
on his first night with the people he meant to work for! With the
memory of the prophecies in his ears had he seen it. It could mean
only that the god himself set it there as a proof that the devotion of
Tahn-te was acceptable--and that he had been born of his mother that
the prophecies might be fulfilled at the right time--and that the
light of the moon on his face had meant----

His thought came so quickly that all the air of the night appeared
alive with the unseen--and the unseen murmured in his ears, and his
memories--and in his heart!

Suddenly he stretched his open hands high to the stars, and then ran
across the level to the foot of the bluff. It was high and very steep,
but wings seemed his--his heart was on the summit, and his body must
follow--must get there before the white flame sank into the west--must
send his greeting to answer the greeting of the god!

In the pouch at his girdle was the fire flint, and a wisp of the silky
wild flax of tinder. Two sticks of dead scrub pinyon was there; he
broke them in equal lengths and laid them in the cross which is the
symbol of the four ways, and of the four winds from which the sacred
breath is drawn for all that lives--the symbol also of union by which
all human life is perpetuated. All fires of sacrifices,--or of magic
power, must commemorate these things which are sacred things, and
Tahn-te placed them and breathed upon them, and touched them with the
spark from the white flint, and then arose in joy and faced the moon
yet visible, knowing that the god had seen his answering flame on the
shrine--and that it meant a dedication to the Things of the Spirit.

And as he stood there on the mesa's edge, exalted at the wonder of the
night, he did not speak, yet he heard the echo of words in his own
voice:--"_No one but Tahn-te shall gather the woods for the fire to
light Po-se-yemo back;--and when he sees the blaze, and comes back,
you will tell him it was his son who kept the fire!_"

Like a flash came the memory of that other time at the edge of that
other mesa in Hopi-land! He had said those words to his mother--and
had forgotten them. He coul