In the stately white teepee, seen from afar, both grave and monument,
there lay the fair body of Taluta! The bier was undisturbed, and the
maiden looked beautiful as if sleeping, dressed in her robes of ceremony
and surrounded by all her belongings.
Her lover looked upon her still face and cried aloud. “Hey, hey, hey!
Alas! alas! If I had known of this while in the Ute country, you would
not be lonely on the spirit path.”
He withdrew, and laid the doorflap reverently back in its place. How
long he stood without the threshold he could not tell. He stood with
head bowed down upon his breast, tearless and motionless, utterly
oblivious to everything save the bier of his beloved. His charger grazed
about for a long time where he had left him, but at last he endeavored
by a low whinny to attract his master’s attention, and Antelope awoke
from his trance of sorrow.
The sun was now hovering over the western ridges. The mourner’s throat
was parched, and perspiration rolled down his cheeks, yet he was
conscious of nothing but a strong desire to look upon her calm, sweet
face once more.
He kindled a small fire a little way off, and burned some cedar berries
and sweet-smelling grass. Then he fumigated himself thoroughly to dispel
the human atmosphere, so that the spirit might not be offended by his
approach, for he greatly desired to obtain a sign from her spirit.
He had removed his garments and stood up perfectly nude save for the
breechclout. His long hair was unbraided and hung upon his shoulders,
veiling the upper half of his splendid body. Thus standing, the lover
sang a dirge of his own making. The words were something like this:
Ah, spirit, thy flight is mysterious!
While the clouds are stirred by our wailing,