I walked forward in the luminous dusk, surrounded by my Oneidas. And, of a sudden, in the swale ahead I saw sparks whirling up in clouds, but perceived no fire.
"Fire-flies," whispered Tahioni.
And now, in the centre of the turbulent whirl of living sparks, I saw a slim and supple shape, like a boy warrior stripped for war, and dancing there all alone amid the gold and myriad greenish dots of light eddying above the swale grass.
Swaying, twisting, graceful as a thread of smoke, the little sorceress danced in a perfect whirlwind of fire-flies, which made an incandescent cloud enveloping her.
And I heard her singing in a low, clear voice the song that timed the rhythm of her naked limbs and her painted body, from which the cinctured wampum-broidered sporran flew like a shower of jewels:
"Wood o' Brakabeen,
Hiahya!
Leaves, flowers, grasses green,
Dancing where you lean
Above the stream unseen,
Hiahya!
Dance, little fireflies,
Like shooting stars in winter skies;
Dance, little fireflies,
As the Oneida Dancers whirl,
Where silver clouds unfurl,
Revealing a dark Heaven
And Sisters Seven.
Hiahya! Wood o' Brakabeen!
Hiahya! Grasses green!
You shall tell me what they mean
Who ride hither,
Who 'bide thither,
Who creep unseen
In red coats and in green;
Who come this way,
Who come to slay!
Hiahya! my fireflies!
Tell me all you know
About the foe!
Where hath he hidden?
Whither hath he ridden?
Where are the Maquas in their paint,
Who have forgotten their Girl-Sainte?[37]
Hiahya!
I am The River-Reed!
Hiahya!
All things take heed!
Naked, without drum or mask
I do my magic task.
Fireflies, tell me what I ask!..."
"He-he!" chuckled The Water-snake, "Thiohero is quite a witch!"
We seated ourselves. If the Little Maid of Askalege, whirling in her dance, perceived us through her veil of living phosphorescence, she made no sign.
And it was a long time before she stood still, swayed outward, reeled across the grass, and fell face down among the ferns.
As I sprang to my feet Tahioni caught my arm.