Only when Ban
thrust down the oar-blades, as he did now and again to direct their
course or avoid some obstacle, was Io made sensible, through the jar and
tremor of the whole structure, how swiftly they moved. She felt the
spirit of the great motion, of which they were a minutely inconsiderable
part, enter into her soul. She was inspired of it, freed, elated,
glorified. She lifted up her voice and sang. Ban, turning, gave her one
quick look of comprehension, then once more was intent and watchful of
their master and servitor, the flood.
"Ban," she called.
He tossed an oar to indicate that he had heard.
"Come back and sit by me."
He seemed to hesitate.
"Let the boat go where it wants to! The river will take care of us. It's
a good river, and so strong! I think it loves to have us here."
Ban shook his head.
"'Let the great river bear us to the sea,'" sang Io in her fresh and
thrilling voice, stirring the uttermost fibers of his being with
delight. "Ban, can't you trust the river and the night and--and the mad
gods? I can."
Again he shook his head. In his attitude she sensed a new concentration
upon something ahead. She became aware of a strange stir that was not of
the air nor the water.
"Hush--sh--sh--sh--sh!" said something unseen, with an immense effect of
restraint and enforced quiet.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198