“It could not be more lovely than it is here,” Virginia replied; “but please go on and tell me what became of Battao.”
Iosco was happy for the present; at least he had made Owaissa forget the white tribe, and the canoes with pinions like wings, that she had said she was sure would come. So he went on gladly:—
“One day, when Battao, with her lover in her canoe, and all her maids in their canoes, were going back from the beautiful island, as they came to the deep part of the water, Battao’s lover said some words to her in a strange language that the maiden could not understand, then sprang into the water. Battao did not cry out, she only looked down where her lover had disappeared; so did her maidens. But he did not rise, nor could they see anything of him, and they went home to their people. When they told the strange story, all the people said Battao’s lover had drowned himself, and other men began to come every hour. But Battao would not look at them or their presents, saying that her lover was not dead, that he said before he jumped into the water he would come back in twelve days. None of her people believed Battao; and her maids went into the wood, wailing and mourning for her loss. But every day when the sun was half-way on its journey, she would call her maids from the wood and lead them down to the water. Then they would paddle their canoes to the place where Battao’s lover had disappeared, and she would look down into the water, in which she could see the clouds, the sun, and even the trees and mountains, all looking at themselves. She saw not the brave and handsome lover until the twelfth day came. And then, while she looked down, he sprang up out of the shining water into Battao’s canoe.”
“Oh, how happy she must have been!” cried Virginia.
“Yes, very happy,” continued Iosco, “and all of Battao’s people; for her lover brought many presents with him, rare and wonderful flowers that grow in the sea, and large pearls. For Battao he brought beautiful coral. Then there was a great happiness among all the people; for Battao and her lover were married. As they paddled out in their canoe one day soon after, Battao asked her lover where he went to down in the water. He told her his people lived there, and he wanted her to go and see his tribe, where they hunted whales and seals, and gathered pearls and coral and beautiful shells, such as she had never seen. She took his hand, and together they sprang into the shining water. All the maidens, seeing the water swallow Battao up, gave a great cry that shook the whole forest. But she called out to them that she would come back to see her father. All her people mourned for her, and said some evil spirit must have taken her, and she must now be a fish in the water. But on the twelfth day she came to her people and to her father’s wigwam, and told great and wonderful stories of the things she had seen. And she brought beautiful presents to her father, and to all her people. When she would go back, her father bowed down and grieved so that he would have died, but that she put her hand on his breast and promised him that while he lived his daughter would be with him six moons every year. And so she was; the rest of the time she was with her husband in the big sea-water. But she still remembered and loved her people, and warns them of storms, even to this day, our captive said. She is seen over the place where she and her lover went down, and she looks tall and misty. No one dares come near her, for something dreadful has happened to all who have ever tried; before every dreadful storm she comes, and the people call the island to which she and her maidens went to listen to the lover’s wonderful stories, the island of Battao.”
They sat silently for a few moments, when Iosco had finished the story; then Virginia asked, “Do you think, Iosco, that all can tell whether they will love each other when they look at each other for the first time?”
There was a strange look in Iosco’s eyes, as he answered, “Iosco can tell little about such things, Owaissa; some people surely could.”
After another pause, Virginia said, “Your stories are so beautiful, Iosco, and I love them; but they make me wish that I knew more of the stories of my people; there must be many that I have never heard, and even some of those my mother told me I have forgotten. I ought to have remembered them, and then I could tell you them, and teach you more about our God. I speak of him only to you, Iosco, for I know so little; I cannot even remember for myself; and when I try to talk to Mistress Wilkins about him, she shakes her head and says, ‘Oh! he has forgotten us. If he loved us he would take us from this place; don’t speak to me about him, child, this is not his land. He cannot hear us when we speak to him. There is no priest or altar to hallow the land.’ But, Iosco, when I am alone in the forest sometimes, and all is still, I can almost hear him speaking to me, and I feel and know that he is close to me, and I want so much to know him. I can only kneel down and say as mamma used, ‘Dear Lord,’ and I know he hears me. Beth or Patience or any of the others does not know as much as I: they have forgotten, or were never taught as I was, and you know I could not ask any of the men. Patience says they are the very worst that came over from England. I wish you knew, Iosco.”
He did not reply; and they sat quietly together, only the song of the little birds above, and the sound of the falling water broke the perfect stillness.