So Hugh had brooded, till there came on him
The pity of a slow rain after drouth.
But at the crossing of the Rosebud’s mouth
A shadow fell upon his growing dream.
A band of Henry’s traders, bound down stream,
Who paused to traffic in the latest word—
Down-river news for matters seen and heard
In higher waters—had not met the lad,
Not yet encountered anyone who had.
Alas, the journey back to yesterwhiles!