When dreams come true

by Ritter Brown

No more shall thy daughters sit in the shadow of thy vines where nesteth the dove, and glorify thee in idle jest and laughter and song, and longingly wait for the coming of the night, for they shall be bereft of their silks, and their girdles, and anklets, and bracelets of gold and jewels. Thy songs and pæans of triumph and victory shall cease with the tainted stream of thy desires, and the walls of thy temples shall crumble to dust. Thy stars shall pale, and the sun and the moon shall illumine thee no longer, for the day approacheth when thy blandishments shall fail to allure.

Babylon, Babylon, thou proud city, thou who sitteth upon many waters, thou whose sway encompasseth the earth, how hast thou fallen!

XL

On the afternoon of the fifth day they drew rein on a high, shelving, terracelike stretch of ground overlooking a broad valley, and almost opposite the chief Tewana village which nestled at the foot of the Sahuaripa range, running north and south until lost on the horizon.

Back of the village a cataract flung itself downward over the mountain's side into the valley, its clouds of spray reflecting innumerable rainbow tints in the sunshine. Great forests, abounding in wild animal life, clothed the mountain's slopes.

It was a peaceful, fruitful valley upon which they gazed; the land where Chiquita formerly dwelt. The grass grew knee-deep in the meadows. Willows and water-birch and sycamore and alders and poplars, interspersed with pines and oaks, grew in clusters along the banks of the broad, rushing stream that ran between them and the distant village whose low, vine-clad walls glowed golden and rose and purple and gray in the rays of the afternoon sun. The diminutive city was a mass of trees and foliage and seemed a part of the landscape; so small were the houses and so harmonious its setting. Fields of flax and melons, and beans and squash, and corn and tobacco, and small orchards and vineyards already harvested, dotted the valley close to the meadows which bordered the tree-fringed stream. Herds of horses and cattle and flocks of sheep and goats, intermingled with wild herds of deer and antelope, browsed on the meadows and slopes above the river where they stood. Wild ducks and geese and swan swam in the river, and grouse and wild turkeys and quail and plover roamed the forests and uplands. There was no promiscuous killing of wild animals allowed among the Tewana; they were shared in common like the domesticated animals. Innumerable canoes, used for fishing, were drawn up on the banks of the river.

The Tewana were an independent, self-supporting people. At all seasons of the year were heard the sounds of the hand-loom and the smith's anvil—the fashioners of iron and precious metals. The weavers of cloth and baskets, and potters and tanners fashioned their wares in the open in the shade of their walls and trees.

The life these people led, free from the harassing cares and anxieties of the White man, was almost ideal. During the spring and summer months they tended their fields, and after the harvests were gathered in the autumn and the surplus produce stored in public granaries, they engaged in the chase; hunting only with the bow and spear—camping in the open, in the forests and plains until the advent of winter. During the ensuing months, until the coming of spring, the children were instructed by their parents in the industrial arts; taught the traditions of their people, and how to read and write, and to observe the courses of the stars and to forecast the weather and predict the nature of the seasons. With the coming of the seedtime, they entered the fields with their elders and learned to sow and tend and reap the crops.

Thus, by the time the child had attained the age of sixteen, he was thoroughly conversant with all that was necessary to meet the demands of life. He became an independent, self-supporting unit, while his constant contact with nature not only revealed the latter's secrets and the laws governing natural phenomena, but developed him physically and spiritually as only nature can. All orphaned children were adopted by the different families, and consequently, there were no outcasts or poor and ignorant among the people.

Every house was surrounded by a small plot of ground sufficient to supply the family with fruit, poultry, grain and vegetables; from two to three acres in extent. Their herds were held in common and permitted to run at will like the deer; requiring but little care.