Of the speechless days that shall be.
On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in these graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off.
Turns to deerskin, and points with an arrow to different symbols, as he names them.