Then the girl went into another room and brought forth her finest dresses, and these, garment after garment, she put on—not one dress, but many. Upon her shoulders she placed four mantles of snow-white embroidered cotton. Then she said to the Eagle: “Wait a moment; I have yet to think of our children in the Home of the Eagles.” Therefore she brought forth her basket-bowls of fine meal with which she had been accustomed to powder her face. There was meal of the yellow corn, the blue corn-meal, the red corn-meal, the white corn-meal, the speckled corn-meal, and the black corn-meal. “See,” said she, as she regarded the various vessels of meal; “my children, by means of these shall ye beautify flesh; by means of these be precious against evil; by means of these shall ye finish preciously your roads of life. I am to be no more. Far off and to an unknown region go I. Possibly I may reach it, and live; probably not reach it, and die. These do I leave as your inheritance. My children, good-by.”[40]
[40] The maiden here addresses mankind generally. [Back]
Then the Eagle descended. The drum began to sound outside; the dance was coming—for the first time, mind you, not the fourth. Then said the Eagle, as he lowered himself: “Place thyself upon my back; grasp me by the shoulders.” And the girl did as she was bidden. She reclined herself lengthwise on the back of the Eagle, and grasped with her left hand his shoulders. “Now, place one foot on one of my thighs and the other on the other.” She placed one foot on one of his thighs and the other on the other; and the Eagle spread his tail and raised it that she might not fall off. “All ready?” asked he, as the drum of the coming dance sounded outside.
“Yes,” said the girl; and they arose.
“Open the wicket!” and shoa! the Eagle spread his wings and away off up into the sky he sprang with the maiden. Round and round, round and round, they circled in the sky, but those below saw nothing as they danced in the shadows of the great houses. The dancers retired. Then they came forth again. Again they retired and came forth. Then the girl said: “Father, slower. Let me sing a farewell song to my people, my children of Earth, that they may know I am going.”
The Eagle spread his wings and sailed gently through the air as the maiden sang. Then the people in the plaza below heard the song, and said: “Alas, alas! ye Twain!” said they to the two gods who led the dance. “Our mother, our child, away off through the skies goes she! Ye are fools that ye have let her escape and deceive us!”
Some listened to the song and learned it. Others did not. For the third time the dancers came forth. “Once more have we to dance,” said the two gods. “Where are they now?”
“In the mid-heavens,” said the people.
“Take it easily, my child,” said the Eagle. “Once more are they to come forth. Possibly we will yet have the great good fortune to reach the home of our father.” And they sped along through the air, nearer and nearer to the home of the Sun-father, while the dancers below danced harder and harder—many so joyful that they listened not to the complainings of the people around, but danced only more vigorously.
Then the dancers retired and came out for the fourth and last time. In the van danced the two gods, their faces blackened with the paint of war, their hands bearing bows and arrows with which to destroy the daughter of the priest-chief.