Then of the gods they sang,—a moonlight song:
"Sleep, O soft little winds,
Restless whispering grass,
Reeds of the water-ways sway not,
Sleep, that the gods may pass.
"Deepen, you dreams of the sleepers,
Veil you, O fire of the moon.
Darken, you silver of stars,
Sleep, for the gods come soon.
"Sleep, for the gods who sleep not
Pass on the midnight's breath;
Mystical, magical, secret,
Sleep, for to wake is death."
And after singing came the dance; the brown
Lithe women decked with bright fantastic hues
Wavered into the circle of the light.
Kneeling, they wove their spells. As gracious flowers
Swayed by the winds of evening, they were blown
By breezes of desire. The eye was filled
With luxury of soft motion and the sound
Of soft monotonous chanting charmed the ear.
Then in their midst came Taka, and she stood,
Waiting the signal. Slow she raised her arms,
Slow as tho' ages hung upon her hands
Heavy with burdened love. The music hushed.
Deep in the mystery of her steady eyes
Lingered the secret of the world, and then
Laughter and light came dancing from her smile.
Her fingers fluttered on the harp of love,
And every chord uttered itself again
Within some dusky heart. The earth was still.
The warm night air was strong with heavy scent
Of oil upon the dancers and the flowers
That decked their breasts and hair. Malua's soul
Fainted beneath the load of so much love,
And when the dance was finished, and her eyes
Held him for one long second ere she smiled
And stole away, he knew for death or life
His spirit lay within her golden hands.
Woe for Uhila! As the twilight glow
Faded in soft immeasurable plains
Of darkness, so the beauty in his heart
Faded in clouds of wrath. The great fire blazed—
A ruby in the raven hair of night—
And clear across the flames Uhila saw
His rival, garlanded with blossoms, pale,
Calm as a happy lover. Could he smile
Over his empty hands and meekly bow—
Uhila bow!—to taste a stranger's whip!
Death snapped the sparks, and Vengeance hurled the flames.
Like blood the fire fell o'er the bare young heart,
And he who watched in one mad bound foresaw
How blood indeed might flash across that breast.
The high resolve grew dim in that fierce light,
"'Tis noble, strong;" then, in a stab of keen
Humor, he saw again a native brave
Decking his naked body with the coat
Crowned with the hat of some sea-faring man,—
Aping the civilization of his stride
Till his new prowess fell to comrade's jeers.
So with a tiger heart it were to wear
A grave forgiveness of this wanton wrong.
The primal lust had burst the slender bar,
Weak white man's morals. Now to slay and slay.
Darkling, he fixed Malua with his eyes,
Noting each shadow of his changing thoughts,
When the dear dreams centred on Taka, dreams
Dimming his sight. Holding his lips apart,
He slowly rose, Uhila following,
For in the dark the music of her face
Smote on the boy till he could bear no more
The feasting and the firelight; silently
He rose and stole away. The night was still,
And "Taka, Taka, Taka," rang his soul
Against the stars. He felt infinity
Above him brood, and knew the mighty gods,
Who once in every lifetime drop an hour
Of their remembrance fraught with godlike bliss
To luckless man, had turned on him their eyes.
Unconsciously his feet retraced the path
To the dark pool where joy had birth that day.
The scents that wake when the cool dusk begins
Lapped him luxuriously; the heavy sweet
Of passionate gardenia,—kiss made flower,—
White as his turbulent love, was as the crown
And climax of the jasmine stars that breathed
His love in placid day, and when he paused
Beside the pool, the forest held its breath.
"O sweet, O beautiful!" Malua cried,
His young eyes blazing to the tropic night.
"Never before, since all the gods were young,
Was woman loved as I love Taka." Then,
Caught in a very ecstasy of love,
He laid his arms about a slender tree,
White in the moonlight, and his fevered cheek
Pressed on its cooling stem. With broken music
Shaken from his breast, he cried on Taka,—
Little happy words that mothers whisper
Above their sleeping babes. "If love could find
A way to utter love without her lips!"
Her lips, her eyes, the music of her voice—
Death would be easy on her golden heart.
He pictured her at twilight in the door
Of their far home, with eager arms outstretched
To welcome him from toil; how she would stand
A queen among the other women, crowned
With crimson flowers. How had he won her, he
A stranger to her people and her blood!
For in her veins the stream ran pale, but, "Ah,"
He cried, "my kiss shall burn it red again.
White she may be, a queen, my queen, she is,
And still my slave in fetters of my love."
Uhila watched him from the shadow.
Gods!
How young he was! as Vave, the swift-footed
Splendidly strong, an innocent god of war.
The morn with chilly lips laid myriad kisses
About his beauty, slipped thro' jealous leaves
Dripping with silver and fantastic fingers
Reached to caress him from the amorous trees.
Hither and forth he paced; Uhila's eyes
Ached with his hatred of the sight; at length
"Taka," Malua cried, and stretched his arms
Rigid in air, his face against the sky.
The goad was in Uhila's soul, he leapt
Into the moonlight and upon his foe.
Fixed to the ground, they strove as giant trees
Tossing fierce branches in a storm; their wrath
Smote on them like a tempest, hot with hate.
Malua knew a curse was in the hands
That sought his throat, and in the blazing eyes
Close to his own. Life would defend fair life
As chief and Taka's lover. Round the shoulders
Dark and strong, straining to his heaving breast,
He threw his arms, and locked in that embrace
They stood a moment, breathing with the quick
Sharp catch of weary runners. Then a turn—
Raising his knee, Uhila strove in vain
To throw his enemy. Upon their heads
And swaying bodies lay the silver light
Of the bright moon. The great night seemed to pause
Chin upon hand to watch the struggle, air
Hushed to retain the hoarse and laboring sobs
Such strain brought forth. Their shining bodies, oiled
In honor of the feast, granted no hold
To the fierce gripping arms.
Then suddenly
Uhila sprang aside and grasped a branch,
A rough, harsh weapon—for they were unarmed.
Wary they watched each other's eyes, like beasts
Stealthy, retreating, circling with heads low,
Bodies bent for the catch. Malua sprang
Close to Uhila, caught his murderous hand,
And with the branch between them, all its thorns
Tearing their breasts, they strove once more. The moon
Glittered in troubled ripples, they had come
Under the shadow of the trees, the dark
Goaded Uhila's soul anew, his blood,
Blazing with conflict, gave him mad-man's strength
And devil's skill. His straining form relaxed,
Heavily slipping earthward; ere Malua
Could gain fresh hold upon his fainting foe,
Uhila with a twist had laid him low,
Knee on his breast, lean fingers at his throat
Seizing his life.
Malua's eyes grew dim,
The gentle stars seen faint thro' hanging leaves
Wavered uncertainly; his brain seemed black,
Confused with horrid death, the dewy moss
He lay on failed beneath him. Suddenly
Hanging upon the brittle rim of death,
His outstretched hand, gripping the scattered leaves,
Closed on a sharp stone, instinct more than brain
Showed him the way; he raised his weapon, struck
And struck and struck again.
The night looked down
Waning, and saw thro' tangled boughs a still,
Dead figure on the troubled earth. All stained
With crimson blood, there lay a crimson wreath,
And thro' the forest stole a dusky shade
Fleeing he knew not where save that he 'scaped
Death, that was lying by the forest pool.