FROM THE SHADOWS

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 95, 13 July 1927, Page 12

FROM THE SHADOWS

A WEIGHTED ARROW When the long day’s march was over. And the moon was soaring westward, Soaring like a swift rock-eagle, Homeward in its westward flight; When the soft, grey shadows lengthened, And the night-owl sent his warning, Came a silent figure stealing, Stealing softly to the Wigwam, Where the six stout poles are planted, That can laugh at wind and weather, As they laughed in storm and sunshine From the swaying Friendship Tree. Noiseless as the lengthening shadow, Steals the stranger, closer —closer, To the pole that bears the totem, That will speak to all the nations Of the Chiefs and Braves that gather In the Wigwam of Redfeather . - . Bears the stranger ill or omen To the Children of the Wigwam? Is he coward —loving darkness, Shrinking from the flood of daylight? In his hand unquivered arrow, In his grasp the quivering bow . . . Lo! he fits the arrow deftly, Speeds it to the sleeping Wigwam, From the bow that sobs in anguish As it straightens in his hand , . . It is but a weighted arrow, Weighted with a wanderer’s message, Bearing words of peace and friendship. To the Children of the Wigwam, To the Children of Redfeather From the lonely Sitting Bull . . . Read, O Chief, the arrow message In the circle of the Wigwam, In the red glow of the embers Shining from the fire of friendship; Read and say unto the children: “This is not a foeman’s arrow. See. the arrow point is broken And the shaft bears but a message From the swift and silent Sioux, Who would help to guard the Wigwam; This bears nought of ill or omen; This is but a friendly message.”