the water
Might act on the blood-stained arrow.

As the blood-stains from it melted,
Blood of Pale-Face shed by Red Man,
Slowly, while he watched and waited,
_All the sparkling water vanished;_
Dry became the magic fountain,
Leaving bare the silver arrow.

Was it thus the spell would weaken
Which had wrought his love such evil?
Would she be again awakened
When he sought her in the thicket?
Must he shoot this arrow at her
To restore her throbbing pulses?
Must he seek again We-nau-don
To make warm her icy beauty?

While he of himself sought guidance,
Sought to know the hidden meaning
Of the mysteries he witnessed;
Lo! another mystic wonder
Met his eyes as he sat musing.

From the arrow made by Pale-Face,
As th' enchanted water left it,
Sprang a tiny shoot with leaflets
Pushing upward to the sunlight.

Did the arrow dry the fountain
With the blight of death it carried?
Or in going, had the water
Left a charm upon the arrow?
Did the heart-blood of the Pale-Face
From the arrow in the water
Cause the coming of the green shoot,
Which reached upward to the sunlight?

All O-kis-ko's love and courage
Could not give him greater knowledge.
Savage mind could not unravel
All the meaning of this marvel.
Fear forbade him touch the arrow
Lest he should destroy the green shoot;
So he left the tender leaflets
Reaching upward to the sunlight,
Sought again the lifeless maiden
For whose love his soul had hungered;
Knelt beside her in the forest,
With the awe of death upon him,
Which in heathen as in Christian
Moves the human soul to worship.

All his faith in savage magic
Turned to frenzy at his failure;
And the helplessness of mortals
Pressed upon him like a burden;
While a mighty longing seized him
For a knowledge of the Unknown,
For a light to pierce the Silence
Into which none enter living.
And unconsciously his spirit
Rose in quest of Might Supernal,
Which should rule both dead and living,
Leaving naught to chance or magic;
Which should seize the throbbing pulses
Ebbing from a dying mortal,
And create a higher being
Free from thrall of earthly nature;
Almost grasping in his yearning
Knowledge of the God Eternal,
In whose hand the earth lies helpless,
In whose heart all souls find refuge.

But no light came to O-kis-ko;
Still the burden pressed upon him,
And a pall of hopeless yearning
Wrapped his soul in voiceless sorrow
As he gazed upon the maiden
With death's mysteries enfolded.
Then he made