It was
softly done, and very low, but Rolf was close, for almost the
first time in any long rendition, and he got an entirely new
notion of the red music. The singer's face brightened as he
tummed and sang with peculiar grace notes and throat warbles of
"Kaluscap's war with the magi," and the spirit of his people,
rising to the sweet magic of melody, came shining in his eyes.
He sang the lovers' song, "The Bark Canoe." (See F. R. Burton's
"American Primitive Music.)
"While the stars shine and falls the dew, I seek my love in bark canoe."
And then the cradle song,
"The Naked Bear Shall Never Catch Thee."
When he stopped, he stared at the fire; and after a long pause
Rolf ventured, "My mother would have loved your songs."
Whether he heard or not, the warm emanation surely reached the
Indian, and he began to answer the question of an hour before:
"Her name was Gamowini, for she sang like the sweet night bird at
Asamuk. I brought her from her father's house at Saugatuck. We
lived at Myanos. She made beautiful baskets and moccasins. I
fished and trapped; we had enough. Then the baby came.
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