draped himself in his quilt. He strode through the crowd to speak to Crispin and Slowly. His white beard was wet.
"All right," he said. "That was it."
"It's over?" asked Crispin.
"Sure enough. Some folks make a big long loud thing of a baptizing, but we do things different. Well, you came to see how we done it. You saw. Let us hear what you thought of it."
All around them, people waited to hear.
"It was impressive," said Crispin. "It was beautiful. It had a great dignity and holiness. "
"You mean that, sir?" asked the Captain.
"I certainly do. I stood and wished I could paint that scene as it happened before me."
As he spoke he looked appealingly at Captain Kimber, but the bearded head shook in refusal.
"Now hold on, Mr. Crispin. That there's as good a place as any to draw a line. I said for you to come here with us because I reckoned it to be all right. But if you was to make a picture of us, who might could be looking at it that would make fun of us?"
Crispin creased his brows. "I believe you may have the right of it, Captain. All right, I won't ask to come and paint here. But I might sketch up something, from imagination, and not give a name to it."
The firm old lips moved in the white beard, not quite smiling. "I don't reckon I could stop you doing that. Now then, us folks usually has a little scrap of fun after a service like this. We eat and drink and sing and all like that. You wait till I get me some clothes on."
Women were busying themselves over a great bed of coals. Pots hung there, steaming, and cuts of meat dangled from cords above the heat of the fire.
"We'll be glad and grateful to join you," said Crispin.
All these things Gander Eye watched from a distance, up on the trail where it branched off from the sloping road. The figures of the people were like tiny moving pictures. The lights of the lanterns made patterns, changed, made other patterns. The cooking fire was a patch of rosy light. But Gander Eye watched another light, apart from these things.
It was at the dark fold of rocks above the pool. The radiance there was not white like the lanterns or red like the cooking fire. To Gander Eye, it seemed to be blue, such a glow as he remembered seeing in a lamplit sapphire. It pulsed softly, that radiance. Only, for it to be a sapphire it would have to be near about as big as all the sapphires in the world.
Gander Eye wondered what it might be and told himself that there was no point in guessing. Those Kimbers had various things that nobody could guess at. He himself had been to their settlement only a few times, usually meeting them in the fields where he worked with them now and then to harvest tobacco and vegetables. At last he shrugged, turned, and started picking his way along the dark, rocky road toward Sky Notch.
He made it around one shoulder of rock and around a second. The trees closed in above him, shutting out the light of the moon. It was deep dark there where he walked, and full of night noises. His ear picked out the trill of tree frogs, the dry chatter of katydids, the plaintive note of an owl. He smiled. He always like to hear live things. It was like making music at a play-party. He worked his way along, one hand to the face of rock at his left to keep himself away from the drop to the right. He was going downhill just at this point, into deeper darkness like a pool.
Then, of an abrupt suddenness, all the frogs and bugs hushed up. Silence dropped down on Gander Eye like a blanket flung over him.
He came to a halt and stood silently motionless, peering. On the road there ahead of him, something waited. Or somebody? No, it was something, just something. No, somebody. He didn't know which.
He held himself without moving and stared through the gloom. He could see just enough to see it wasn't a man by the way it stood up, the way whatever it was had stood up in that brush beyond Crispin's cabin. It, too, hung there motionless, grotesque. It seemed to be swaddled in two or three
"All right," he said. "That was it."
"It's over?" asked Crispin.
"Sure enough. Some folks make a big long loud thing of a baptizing, but we do things different. Well, you came to see how we done it. You saw. Let us hear what you thought of it."
All around them, people waited to hear.
"It was impressive," said Crispin. "It was beautiful. It had a great dignity and holiness. "
"You mean that, sir?" asked the Captain.
"I certainly do. I stood and wished I could paint that scene as it happened before me."
As he spoke he looked appealingly at Captain Kimber, but the bearded head shook in refusal.
"Now hold on, Mr. Crispin. That there's as good a place as any to draw a line. I said for you to come here with us because I reckoned it to be all right. But if you was to make a picture of us, who might could be looking at it that would make fun of us?"
Crispin creased his brows. "I believe you may have the right of it, Captain. All right, I won't ask to come and paint here. But I might sketch up something, from imagination, and not give a name to it."
The firm old lips moved in the white beard, not quite smiling. "I don't reckon I could stop you doing that. Now then, us folks usually has a little scrap of fun after a service like this. We eat and drink and sing and all like that. You wait till I get me some clothes on."
Women were busying themselves over a great bed of coals. Pots hung there, steaming, and cuts of meat dangled from cords above the heat of the fire.
"We'll be glad and grateful to join you," said Crispin.
All these things Gander Eye watched from a distance, up on the trail where it branched off from the sloping road. The figures of the people were like tiny moving pictures. The lights of the lanterns made patterns, changed, made other patterns. The cooking fire was a patch of rosy light. But Gander Eye watched another light, apart from these things.
It was at the dark fold of rocks above the pool. The radiance there was not white like the lanterns or red like the cooking fire. To Gander Eye, it seemed to be blue, such a glow as he remembered seeing in a lamplit sapphire. It pulsed softly, that radiance. Only, for it to be a sapphire it would have to be near about as big as all the sapphires in the world.
Gander Eye wondered what it might be and told himself that there was no point in guessing. Those Kimbers had various things that nobody could guess at. He himself had been to their settlement only a few times, usually meeting them in the fields where he worked with them now and then to harvest tobacco and vegetables. At last he shrugged, turned, and started picking his way along the dark, rocky road toward Sky Notch.
He made it around one shoulder of rock and around a second. The trees closed in above him, shutting out the light of the moon. It was deep dark there where he walked, and full of night noises. His ear picked out the trill of tree frogs, the dry chatter of katydids, the plaintive note of an owl. He smiled. He always like to hear live things. It was like making music at a play-party. He worked his way along, one hand to the face of rock at his left to keep himself away from the drop to the right. He was going downhill just at this point, into deeper darkness like a pool.
Then, of an abrupt suddenness, all the frogs and bugs hushed up. Silence dropped down on Gander Eye like a blanket flung over him.
He came to a halt and stood silently motionless, peering. On the road there ahead of him, something waited. Or somebody? No, it was something, just something. No, somebody. He didn't know which.
He held himself without moving and stared through the gloom. He could see just enough to see it wasn't a man by the way it stood up, the way whatever it was had stood up in that brush beyond Crispin's cabin. It, too, hung there motionless, grotesque. It seemed to be swaddled in two or three
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