"Three clans lie stricken: the Wolf, the Plover, the Eel. Who shall raise them?"
"Brother," said Sir William, gravely. "With this belt I raise three clans; I cleanse their eyes, their ears, their mouths, their bodies with clean water. With this belt I clear their path so that no longer shall the dead stand in your way or in ours."
(The belt.)
"Brother: With these strings I raise up your head and beg you will no longer sorrow."
(Three strings.)
"Brother: With this belt I cover the graves."
(A great white belt.)
In the dead stillness that followed the northern hill-tops slowly turned to pink and ashes. The day had dawned.
When again we reached the village cocks were crowing in every yard; the painted weather-vanes glowed in the sun; legions of birds sang.
From Starbuck's Inn stumbled forth a blinking, soiled, and tipsy company, linking arms, sidling, shoving, lurching, and bawling: