September came. Early in the morning Quonab went alone to the
lakeside; there on a hill top he sat, looking toward the sunrise,
and sang a song of the new dawn, beating, not with a tom-tom --
he had none -- but with one stick on another. And when the
sunrise possessed the earth he sang again the hunter's song:
"Father, guide our feet, Lead us to the good hunting."
Then he danced to the sound, his face skyward, his eyes closed,
his feet barely raised, but rythmically moved. So went he three
times round to the chant in three sun circles, dancing a sacred
measure, as royal David might have done that day when he danced
around the Ark of the Covenant on its homeward joumey. His face
was illumined, and no man could have seen him then without
knowing that this was a true heart's worship of a true God, who
is in all things He has made.
Chapter 17. Canoeing on the Upper Hudson
There is only one kind of a man I can't size up; that's the
faller that shets up and says nothing. -Sayings of Si Sylvanne.
A settler named Hulett had a scow that was borrowed by the
neighbours whenever needed to take a team across the lake.
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