Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 73: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE SON OF THE RED GOD. again the forest heard a shout, deep, full- throated, from the warriors: “Long life to thee and thy bride! Long life and honor and happiness to Na-t’san, our leader, Great Chieftain of the tribe of Ta-an, the Son of the Red God!” A month had passed; the Long Cold had closed in, and the days were growing shorter; Co-sa, the Ice, had locked the streams and built his bridges, cold and hard and glittering, over the pools; Sa, the Snow, had come in flurries, drifting among the rocks, heaped by the wind in piles that shone white in crannies and crevices; long since the squirrels had stored their winter’s food, and Mo, the bear, had hidden himself for his long sleep; the Long Cold was upon the People of the Mountain Caves. The sun was sinking toward the western hills when the Great Chief of the Ta-an, the Son of the Red God, climbed the moun- tain toward the altar whence—ages ago, it seemed—he had rescued Va-m’rai. He wished to be alone, to think and plan, and, reaching the altar, he seated himself upon a stone, his elbows on his knees, his chin sup- ported in his hands, gazing abroad over the fair valley that lay below him, stretching far and wide on either hand, rolling down, then rising once more with gentle sweep to the distant hills that, a far blue wall, stood outlined against the deeper blue of the sky. But the chieftain, seated, did not bend his mind to labor; a mood of reverie took him, and, sitting there, he drifted back over the happenings of the past few months, busy months, filled with struggle and effort, with danger, trial, battle, and, in the end, tri- umph. He smiled proudly as he thought of the shouts of the tribesmen, the triumphal journey homeward, the finding of his cave, whence the sealing rocks had been rolled away. And then he thought of Meng, and his muscles tightened and his eyes flashed as he remembered the great fight, and the blow that had brought him victory, and from the Bison his mind drifted to Nu-kzen, faithful, as he had sworn, even to death, and some- thing rose in his throat and choked him as (The 223 he remembered how the little negro had pressed the hand of his kneeling master and had smiled even. as the bloody foam rushed to his lips and his brave spirit started on its journey into the Long Dark. By now.the sun had set, and it was growing dark, and below him, dotting the slope of the mountain, the chieftain could see the twinkling fires of the tribesmen, for each man had got him a flint and hammer- stone and had learned the secret of calling the Red God to life; it was no part of the chieftain’s plan to keep this knowledge to himself; he felt within him the power of invention, the power to lead and to com- mand, and he meant to give this and all other knowledge freely to his people, that they might grow in strength and wisdom. And now the mood of reverie left him and the spirit of prophecy came upon him, so that he saw visions; the valley and the fires drew back and faded before his eyes as though a veil were drawn across, and through this veil the chieftain saw dimly vague forms, crowding, thronging, fighting great battles, doing great works, armed with strange weapons, using strange tools: a pressing, mighty nation, spreading to the uttermost limits of the world, rich and pow- erful, strong and great. He thrilled, his bosom heaved, his breath came hard, and he rose to his feet; erect he stood, raising his arms to the heavens. “Oh, Great Father,” he prayed aloud, “let Thy spirit descend upon me; grant me strength and patience, wisdom and might, that I may in very truth be deserving of this great honor that is mine; that well and truly may I serve my people to the end of life!” And as if in answer to his prayer the wind * was stilled, and in the silence, the utter silence of the lonely mountain, the chieftain felt a great peace descend and wrap him about, enfolding him, filling his bosom and flooding through his_veins. And slowly the vision faded, and slowly, with bent head, humbly yet proudly, Na- t’san the Son of the Red God, guided by the gleaming, twinkling fires of his people, took his way down the mountain to the cave where Va-m’rai, the tender, the brave, the true, awaited his coming. End.) ECORICLOOOLK (C@