It seemed not more strange
to the Indian than to the linguist to spend an hour or so in meditating
on a queer word that has lost its meaning amidst the surges of change.
The tribesman, lending himself readily to the investigation, suddenly
bethought himself of the ancient sibyl in her remote cabin on the steep
slant of the mountain, among the oldest and the least progressive
denizens of the Qualla Boundary.
Despite her arrogations of uncanny foreknowledge of human events, despite
her mystic lore of spells and charms, she had no faint presentiment of
the fact when Fate came boldly here and laid a hand on her door. None of
her familiars of the air, of the earth, gave her warning. Often she
thought of this afterward with bitterness, with upbraiding. The Mountain
Climber, _Atali Kuli_ (the ginseng), must, she was sure, have known of
this inimical ascent of the steeps, but he only burrowed the deeper, and
treacherously made no sign. As to _Agaluga Hegwa_, the great Whirlwind--she
would have bidden him arise quickly--"_Ha-usi-nuli datule-hu gu!_"--but
to what avail! Doubtless he was asleep somewhere on the sunny slopes.
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