Clear above them flowed the water,
Clear and limpèd from the footprints
Of the Master of Life descending;
Dark below them flowed the water,
Soiled and stained with streaks of crimson,
As if blood were mingled with it.
From the river came the warriors.
Cleaned and washed from all their war-paint,
On the banks their clubs they buried,
Buried all their warlike weapons.