Shingwauk's eyes rounded a little. "Big magic," he said impressively
and relapsed into silence.
"Hungry?" asked Clark presently.
The old chief did not reply, being too moved by strange thoughts and
the rush of memory to feel anything else, but Naqua lifted a withered
head in the bow.
"Much hungry," she croaked shrilly.
Clark laughed and signaled to the blockhouse, where the Japanese cook
waited, peering from a window. Presently the latter came out carrying
a tray. His narrow eyes were expressionless as he laid it on the
masonry beside the canoe. Shingwauk glanced at him, puzzled over the
flat, oriental features for a moment, and looked away. He seemed but a
minor spirit in this great mystery. The old woman ate greedily, but
her husband had no desire for food. He was experiencing a transition
so breathless that it could but mark the day of his own passing. He
waited till Naqua finished such a meal as she had never seen before,
his face gaunt but his eyes large and profound with the shadow of
unspeakable thoughts. Presently he dipped his blade in the untroubled
water, and the canoe backed out of the lock.
"Boozhoo!" he said slowly, with one long look at Clark.
"Good-by! Come again."
The penetrating gaze followed the pigmy vessel as it dipped to the
larger stretch of the bay, dwindling with the glint of two blades that
flashed with clock-like regularity in the afternoon sun. Soon it
reduced to a speck and was out of sight. Clark turned to his office,
still contemplating the dignity of his visitor, the stark simplicity of
this archaean aristocrat. How soon, after all, he pondered, might not
he himself and his works look aboriginal beside the achievements which
science had yet to unfold to the world? Then, glancing across the
river, he stepped down to the dock and struck over in a fast launch.