INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918 313
When the blazoned, bird-winged butterflies flap through? It is there that I am going with my camphor, net, and boxes,
To a gentle, yellow pirate that I know To my little wailing lemurs, to my palms and flying-foxes,
For the Red Gods call me out and I must go!
He must go go, etc.
IV
Do you know the world's white roof-tree do you know that
windy rift
Where the baffling mountain-eddies chop and change? Do you know the long day's patience, belly-down on frozen
drift,
While the head of heads is feeding out of range? It is there that I am going, where the boulders and the snow
, lie ' With a trusty, nimble tracker that I know.
I have sworn an oath, to keep it on the Horns of Ovis Poli, And the Red Gods call me out and I must go!
He must go go, etc.
Now the Four-way Lodge is opened now the Smokes of
Council rise
Pleasant smokes, ere yet 'twixt trail and trail they choose Now the girths and ropes are tested: now they pack their last
supplies:
Now our Young Men go to dance before the Trues! Who shall meet them at those altars who shall light them
to that shrine ?
Velvet- footed, who shall guide them to their goal? Unto each the voice and vision: unto each his spoor and
sign
Lonely mountain in the Northland, misty sweat-bath 'neath the Line
