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INDIANS
The sticks! The sacred sticks!
(_The_ CHISERA _produces the sticks from her medicine bag, and hands them to one of the Old Men. To each of the others who will dance with her (two or three) she gives a fetish from her bag.
They have already put on appropriate headdresses and are prepared for dancing. She motions the rattles to begin. Behind her are the Old Men, with the drums and rattles; on each side, the Fighting Men seated on the ground. The dance begins, the_ CHISERA _singing. The Old Men keep up a crooning accompaniment; from time to time the Fighting Men join the singing and exhibit a growing excitement as the dance progresses. At intervals, one and another of them, leaps to his feet and joins the dance. At the last, the_ CHISERA, _whirling rapidly, falls to the ground. Instantly the rattles are stopped, and the people wait in suspense the word of the G.o.ds. The women are seen to steal up through the toyon bushes. The_ CHISERA _lifts herself slowly on one elbow, as if waking from a drugged sleep. She stretches out her hand for the sacred sticks. She drops them with a quick turn of the wrist, gathers them up and drops them again, seeking for an augury. She throws up the arm with the medicine stick and begins to chant_.)
THE CHISERA
The bows of Castac shall be broken.
The bowstring shall break asunder.
The bows of thy foes shall be broken and the vultures come to the battle.
(_Excitement and confusion._)
INDIANS
The omen, the omen! the war leader!
THE CHISERA (_Chanting_)
The Maker of Arrows shall lead you.
He that makes arrows of eagles' feathers, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, he shall lead you, Simwa shall break the bows of Castac.
TRIBESMEN
Simwa!
(_The Indians break into a great shout for_ SIMWA. RAIN WIND _puts a collar of bears' claws about_ SIMWA'S _neck, lifts his war-bonnet and places it on his head._ SIMWA _raises his war-club with a great shout, dancing about the half-prostrate form of the_ CHISERA, _the Fighting Men one by one falling into the dance with wild exultant movements, chanting_.)
The bows of Castac shall be broken!
The bowstring shall break asunder!
He shall break the bows of Castac!
(_As they pa.s.s out on the war trail shouting, the women are seen to come to the help of the_ CHISERA.)
CURTAIN
ACT SECOND
ACT SECOND
SCENE.--_The campody of Sagharawite, three months later, near the new wickiup of the Arrow-Maker. At the right, the house of_ RAIN WIND, _and behind all a spring under a clump of dwarf oaks. A little trail runs between stones to connect the Arrow-Maker with the rest of the campody, and beyond it the valley rises gently to the Sierra foothills, brooding under the spring haze. A little to the fore of_ SIMWA'S _house lies a great heap of blankets, baskets, and camp utensils, displayed to the best advantage, the wedding dower of the Chief's daughter. By her father's house_ BRIGHT WATER _is being dressed for bridal by her young companions. They braid her hair, paint her face, tie her moccasins, and arrange her beads over the robe of white doeskin; they laugh as they work and are happily important as is the custom of bridesmaids. The older women are winnowing grain and grinding at the metate._
_At the left and front_, SIMWA, TAVWOTS, _and others are gambling with dice made of halves of black-walnut hulls, filled with pitch; the number indicated by bits of sh.e.l.l embedded in the pitch. They are shaken in a small basket and turned out on a basket plaque._
_The older men look on, smoking._ TAVWOTS _is broad-faced and merry, and does not neglect to ogle the girls at intervals, which causes them to giggle and hide their heads in their blankets. The men have on their holiday dress, especially the younger companions of_ SIMWA.
TAVWOTS
(_Throwing._) Five!
SIMWA
(_Throwing._) And five again!
INDIANS
Hi! Hi!
TAVWOTS
Four!
SIMWA
Seven! (_Exclamations._)
SEEGOOCHE
(_Bringing a blanket._) Here, let us spread the blanket where the newly married pair shall sit when first my daughter comes to her husband's house.
(_The women a.s.sist her, spreading it in front of_ SIMWA'S _house._)
TIAWA
And this time next year, may you be a grandmother.
SEEGOOCHE
I pray so. To-morrow I shall go to the Chisera and get a charm to make it sure.
WACOBA
Does not the Chisera come to the wedding?
SEEGOOCHE
I wished it so, but Simwa has no faith in magic medicine. He thinks we show her too much respect because of her mumblings and wavings of arms.
WACOBA
