PS THE PIONEERS i POETIC DRAMA IS TIIO SCENES EY JAMES OPPENHEIM Class Jgj^JjUa Book ,^i > Ps Copight]^" N < ^ \ 6 COFfRIGHT DEPOSm THE PIONEERS BY THE SAME AUTHOR Wild Oats Doctor Rast Monday Morntkg and Oitier Poems THE PIONEERS A POETIC DRAMA IN TfFO SCENES BY JAMES OPPENHEIM NEW YORK B. W. HUEBSCH 1910 CDPYBIGUT. 1910, BY B. W. HUBB3CH All ri^ts reserved |o This play has been copyrighted and published simultaneously in the United States and Great Britain. All acting and reading rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved in the United States. Great Britain, and countries of the Copyright Union. Performances forbidden and right of representation reserved. Application for the right of performing or reading the play must be made to B. W. Huebsch. Any piracy or infringement wiU be prosecuted in accord- ancc with the penalties provided by Sec. 4966. U. S. Revised Statutes. Title 60. Chap. 3. PRINTED IN U. S. A. CI.D 230l'i TO THE FAMILY LANIER CAMP A WORD This little play had its first production at Lanier Camp on the banks of the Piscataqua, Eliot, Maine, at 8 o'clock of a dark August night. Under windy boughs and back of the shadows of a camp-fire several hundred people of the countryside, bewitched by the wind, the flames, and the night, were kind to the unprofessional players and the little play. A native poetic drama which shall go straight home to the people of America rather than to a fit few in a private theater is the dream of the young writers of to-day. It is my dream too. Hence, what a rich joy it was to throw a plain tale of '49 into simple rhythm and find that the folk of southern Maine were stirred to tears. It meant, not that the play was great, but that America is hungry for expression, and even an inadequate attempt, if sincere, is worth making. And it meant something else. It meant that 7 A WORD the little company of men and girls and boys who gave the play threw themselves so deeply into their parts that their very earnestness and fire evoked something precious in the audience. The names of those who lifted the text to reality belong to this book, and I give them. THE CAST John Howard Sidney Lanier, Jr. Margaret Barbara Laighton David Morrow Peter W. Dykema Cynthia Burns Geraldine Slater Eagle-Talon Bernard Sexton Chadwick Bruce Hoggson Tom . . . , Trumball Thomas (August 26, 1910) CHARACTERS John Howard, the Leader — a man of about forty-five, tall, gentle, executive, and full of the true fire of s power — an outdoor nian. Margaret, his daughter— a young woman, about twenty-one, a fine blend of the old and new type of woman, graceful, beautiful, but free a?id frank and companionable; very fnuch like her father, but with deeper power of intuition — an outdoor woman. David Morrow, a young man with the party — about twenty-five, passionately egoistic, wedded to the con- ventional, a keen individualist, full of misdirected power, and yet overrunning with the possibilities of youth. Cynthia Burns — - an unmarried woman of middle age, timid, home-bred, but following the party through her great personal love for Margaret. Chadwick, the sentinel— a bluff, jovial man, unafraid of anything, and ready for any adventure, loyal and steadfast. 9 10 CHARACTERS Tom, one of the younger men i a pleasant ^ dreamy fellow ^ who swears by his leader, Eagle-Talon, an Indian — large^ swift^ picturesque, slow and passionate in his speech. Men, Women, and Children SCENE The NightU Resty in and about a grove on the JVest- em Prairies. Trees about, in the center a camp-fire. Back in the shadows a large, white-hooded schooner- wagon. Guns against a tree; lantern on wagon. A moonlight summer s night. The great silence of the plains; not even the cry of the coyote heard; only the crackling of the fire and the sound of the wind in the trees. Tear, about 1850. THE PIONEERS A POETIC DRAMA IN TWO SCENES As action starts scene is empty. Enter Pro- logue, with hand raised for silence, PROLOGUE Our fire paints the dark with jumping gold, The bark of trees shows each black wrinkle, leaves Sway sharp, and through the shadow-swallowed tree-tops The low nocturnal music of the wind Makes magic of the vast night. Hark! O hark! [ Pauses, that audience may listen'] Spirit of the wind! Spirit of the rising moon! Night-spirit! Earth-spirit! I that lift my voice I, too, am a spirit — you are brothers all 13 14 THE PIONEERS That sing and sigh and gleam and breathe about me! I charge you, mighty spirits, hear of me! For I am that human spirit that dares all. Rides you, O Wind, lights you, O Night, and makes Of you, O Earth, my home, my tool, my life. What if you wrought me? What if your mighty souls Gave birth to me? I, too, give birth; I, too, Create: and all my ages are A pushing forward, hand in hand with nature, And slow creation of a greater Earth. From land to land through age on age I led, Till now my new scene is — America; My latest, greatest venture. To this coast The world sends mightiest dreamers, hardiest toilers. Her pioneers, and here by weltering millions They build a life that dares new heights, new heavens. Fired with democracy, till now at last I am the Spirit of America! [A pause] That spirit was in the Pilgrims when they knelt THE PIONEERS 15 On Plymouth Rock; and in the Puritans Working their clearings in the wilderness; And with the men that battled on Bunker Hill; And with the vast migration that swung tides Of people through the unadventured West; That spirit rose like storm and shook the world Gigantically in our home-spun Lincoln — That spirit lives to-day: is here to-night: For America is not the magic scenery Washed by the sunrise and the sunset seas, No, nor yet even the prairies dark with herds, Or land-lakes of the Western grain: nor yet Wonder-cities white-towered, nor the peaks Bursting with metals, nor the smoky mills — America is you and you and I. [Pause] And it is something else. It is the marriage Of classic Europe with her dream-stuffed brain. Her nimble fingers and her indoor art. To Indian, outdoor, tan-faced, native, wild America: the wigwam drips with rain, The tasseled corn is blown with the wet wind. Mist scarfs the mountain-brow, the hunting trail Runs by gray pools in the splattering wilder- ness, 16 THE PIONEERS And the human being is like a breath of the Earth, Wild with the power that swims in the soil and the air, Panting with life and with love and desire to labor, His nostrils quivering as he scents the ground. Such, the American: the intricate thinker, The lover and brother, and the pioneer With that feel of Earth of him inured to the open. [During the following passage all the characters enter^ two or th-ee at a time^ and group themselves about the camp-fire'] Behold then just such real Americans Stealing about this camp-fire, for our scene Moves to the Western prairie, and the wind Whispers two thousand miles from here, and the dark. Painted with jumping gold, is full of danger; For the pioneers, seeking the manless West, Are lonely on the limitless, moonlit plains, And the Indians circle them. Hark! now they lift Their voices in song to drown out thoughts of peril. THE PIONEERS 17 And the sentinel, who paces up and down, Shouts out: ''All's well!'* — O great America, This little band is clearing out a way For us that follow. Come, O friends, the Play ! SCENE I SCENE I As Prologue goes outy Tom, standing^ strums HotnCy Sweet Home,^* on the mandolin. All join softly in the chorus. At the end of song a deep pause, during which the sentinel outside cries twice: "All's well-— All's well— " Howard Stir up the fire, Tom, make it shoot sparks, blaze big. For in this large room of the open Earth Under the lifting roof of all the stars. We must smell the good wood-smoke of our own hearth. We are not lonely, we, so close to the ground. Where the wild tang and flavor of the Earth Absorb us in the Mother. All day long We sweated in the sun; now, tired out. The bones of our bodies sweet with a day's work done. We nestle close to the rich restful soil. [Pause] 21 22 THE PIONEERS Margaret Inclose to her father y tenderly] Father, what is it? Howard [taking her hand ] What is what, dear Meg? The trouble. Margaret Howard Trouble? Nothing. Margaret But there is: I feel it in your voice. Come, out with it! Howard If it's a trouble, it's a trouble shared, And so, no trouble: all so close together, We comrades like a dot on the vast prairies, Here, in the midst of danger, life is sweet. What do we lack? Margaret Ah, father, Ikwow you: You cannot put me off ! Your heart is troubled. THE PIONEERS 23 Howard \jmilingly] Well, so it is: but a most loving trouble. In truth, the song we sang carried me home, Home, where all life was peace. [Rises with Margaret] [yf silence] Tom How far awa}' New England is; the rough coast and the sea, And the apple-heavy orchards. Cynthia And the homes, Whitewashed and clean, set among quiet pas- tures. Howard The long, long Sabbaths and the sunny morns We swung the scythe in the meadows. Wheat and corn — I can see acres blooming. Oh, New England, You are two thousand miles across the world. Tom Two thousand miles — have we trudged out so far? ^ 24 THE PIONEERS Howard Yes, and a thousand miles must still be trudged — Farther and farther, as nearer and nearer we draw. The Far West vanishes. Several [like echoes] Vanishes — vanishes. It vanishes. [J deep pause'] Margaret [close to her father] And yet, father, had you to do it again, You*d do just this. Howard [shaking off his sadness] Yes, though it were Ten thousand miles: come, Tom, strike up a tune That sings the future, not the past, and stirs Our hearts to courage. [Seats himself] THE PIONEERS 25 Sentinel [outsUe] Airs well! [^// listen] [Enter Chadwick, the sentinel, armed] Chadwick [jovially] Friends, all is well. Gazing out under the moon I saw the whole huge circle of the horizon One emptiness of moonlight; nothing stirs; That rumor of the Indians we heard As we went through the ford, was but false news; And we may sleep to-night. There's not a fleck Of black from here to the rim of the starry skies; No, not a stir. [Goes out] Tom [slowly] Vast is the prairie. Cynthia And still — Listen! What a hush! [Silence] 26 THE PIONEERS Howard None but the savage ever Has set foot here. The Earth is as the ages Created it: primordeal, fresh and free. How good to be the first to dare this land! How glad I am we came! What's the man worth Who does not dare? What manly spirit ever Refused to pioneer? David [risingy stepping forwardy U7iable to 7'e strain himself^ I am that man. John Howard, I have something on my mind That I can bear no longer. The time's come To speak what smothers in my breast, and say The worst. \^All look upy amazedy though some with quick appreciation and sympathy] Howard [gently] Why, David, speak, that's the man's way. THE PIONEERS 27 David [bursting out] Why are we here? This senseless, useless jour- ney? Howard [still gently] Do you ask that, after two thousand miles? David [storming] I can hold it back no longer. For my own reasons I followed you: and IVe not murmured once As all the long day hand-to-hand with the sun I whipped the dogged horses, set my heels Deep in the sand and tugged at the creaking reins; When I went thirsty, I have said nothing of it; When I went hungry, not one word, and when I limped with swollen foot, not once I cursed. But now I can bear it no longer: out with it! Why, in the name of all that*s possible Are we on this fool's errand? If some night The red men round us up, and shoot us like dogs 28 THE PIONEERS Our blood is on your head. Back in the East I told you so, but you — turned to the women, Spoke of some vision, reached their hearts with words. And stopped your ears to the facts. By heaven, Howard, What right had you to lead these little children On a mad quest in a bare desert, where death Circles our footsteps? El Dorado.^ Tell That tale to women ! Howard igenlly'] Many have eyes, David, And yet they will not see. David [angrily'} See what? I see Daylong the red and rolling prairie stretch Under the cruel circle of the sky. Up from the East the swollen copper sun Lifts through a copper smoke, and the burnt air Palpitates, and up and over the hillocks The long white line of our schooner-wagons Creeps like a worm from, one huge sky-cocoon THE PIONEERS 29 Into another, and on those moving floors The worried women sink and the children cry- Not knowing what ails them. This I see, and more. I see behind each bush an Indian. Perhaps even now somewhere are galloping horses And the armed braves chanting as they race with the moon. Silently from afar they come; they coil Like a snake about us, and we die the death Horribly. [Pauses] In this place of empty silence What help is there? Howard [genlly] Why, in ourselves, as ever. David But where's the end? Each day's without an end. We have tramped three months and more. For what? A dream. [His voice breaks] 30 THE PIONEERS Better our narrow acres in New England, Green, sweet with merciful rains, and the great sea Pounding on the rocks of the beach. Our dooryards bloomed With corn and children's faces. Life was good. But you uprooted us. Now must you answer For our agony. [Patues] HOW^ARD [risingy putting his hands on David's shoulders'\ I cannot answer. — But now that you have spoken, David, boy, And airs cleaned out within, do you think it well To talk of danger while we are in danger.'' We are here; we cannot escape; what help is it To pour out all these fears? David [hanging his head ] I — had to speak. \Goes off in the shadow s^^ THE PIONEERS 31 Howard Come all, you know that Mary's son is ill, Down in the third large wagon. Let us go, And smooth the lad's night-rest. Cyxthia Yes, let us go. \_AU go, save David, who touches Margaret's arm'\ David I want to see you, Margaret. Margaret See mCy David.'* [^She lingers y and he does not speak till all are gone. Then he comes close] David The things I said to-night — Margaret {^unutterably sad ] Yes, what of them ? David I had to sav them. 32 THE PIONEERS Margaret Yes, you had to say them. David Tm much ashamed — Margaret You ought to be ashamed. David [low} But I was not thinking solely of myself— Margaret Not solely? David No [hesitates]. Shall I tell you, Margaret, Why I have come here? Margaret Is it a thing to say, Or better left unsaid? David I must speak out. THE PIONEERS 33 Margaret You have before — but tell me, why have you come? David [bursting ouf\ You — Margaret— -you, you are the reason, you. Margaret \_shrinking] It had been better never to have said this. [Starts to goi] David [sharply] You must not go, I have come two thousand miles. Dared all for you. Is this my answer then '^. No love for me.'* Margaret [controlling herself] Oh, David, do not ask me; I will not trust a love I can*t respect. No, no, your place is in the East where women 34 THE PIONEERS Are kitchen-things, and men are hard and keen. Shrewd Yankees. Not for you the New Great West! David [wooingly] Oh, but I know what is in your heart— to-night In the soft hush of this grove and under moon- light ' Your heart cries out that you and I were born For one another. Margaret [struggling] David! [J pause] Til use plain words: Do you think that you who cannot grasp the greatness Of my own father, ever will understand me? Fm not so keen for marriage— marriage, David, Is not the all of woman's life, and better No marriage than wrong marriage. For there comes Upon the earth a newer kind of woman, And there must come a newer kind of man To be that woman's mate. THE PIONEERS 35 David [muttering] A woman's a woman. Margaret No, more than that, she is a human being — And I can see her as I would have her, David: Athletic, sinewy, sun-tanned she must be. Able to run, dive, lift, and leap the hurdle. Free in her actions, with the world to range. And yet a mother beautiful, a wife Gentle and sweet; a being who takes the dust, The bread-things and the broom-things, makes of them Vital adventures. This is my comrade woman. She must be man so far as freedom goes, And yet all wrought of the eternal woman. The graceful beauty and the lovely manner. But a new manhood must arise to mate her, A manhood as heroic as the old, Unafraid of roughness, sweat and life's fine dangers, Meeting the whole thick fighting world in the open. Light-hearted, joyous, hardy — yet, and yet, Unafraid also of the woman-things — 36 THE PIONEERS Quite unashamed of tenderness and goodness, With a heart large enough to house all moods Of beauty and music and the old chivalry. He must be woman so far as sweetness goes, And yet all wrought of the eternal man, The creative worker and the woman's protector: These are mv man and woman. [Pause] David, I ' Would hurt no heart, least of all yours. Oh, rather I'd hurt myself — rather Vd scold myself — Knowing — yes, candidly — that all my soul Is touched, I know not why — David [turning suddenly'] In spite of talk! Why, it's your father, stuffing your brain with words. But deep beneath, you — love me. Margaret [tearfully] No more, David, David [exultant] You do — vou do — THE PIONEERS 37 Margaret No more, I'll hear no more. We two would be unhappy. David But you love nie — Margaret I— I — what's that? [They turn^ a crash of bushes; a shot, and a loud cry in the distance,* 'Who goes there?"] David My God, just as I said, the Indians! Margaret What's wrong? what's wrong? [David seizes a gun and starts forward : at the same moment cries of women in the campy crashing of underbrush, and How- ard comes rushing in, musket in hand, fol- lowed by the others^ Howard [shouting^ Who goes there? Stand, or we fire! 38 THE PIONEERS A Voice [huskily] Wait! [An Indian y covered with mud and dusty staggers in, breaking through the crowd in his speed] Eagle-Talon [haitingy hand on heart to protect himself y with shrill gasps] White-man*s friend — I — Eagle-Talon — I. [Falls exhausted; two of the women give piercing screams; the men clutch him and crowd over him] Howard [pulling the men off] Make room! stand back! Quick, Eagle-Talon, speak! [A pause] Eagle-Talon [looking up; gasping] They come, the red men come! I An intense hush] THE PIONEERS 39 Cynthia [in a shrill whisper] The Indians! [Suppressed cries'] Howard Tell me — which way! which way! Eagle-Talon [on one knee^ gasping, pointing] They come Out of the blue hills on their flying horses, Quick as the north wind — ^and their tomahawks flash, Their rifles glisten. [Rises y speaks in guttural voice , gestures dramatically] Last night in the sand They crouched around the circle of the war- dance. Chopping the earth and chanting the death- chant. Under the waning moon I saw the warriors, Naked, all daubed with paint — and Eagle- Talon 40 THE PIONEERS He, white-man^s friend, he knew. [ Taps his chest] As comes the dawn. He came: he say, put bullets in your rifles. He say, make fight. Plenty of Indian comes. Howard How near, how near? Eagle-Talon [lifts his hands with fingers extended ] As close on Eagle-Talon As these few miles. Howard [turning; in a slow^ masterful voice] Men, get your rifles. See the women stowed Under the shelter of the wagons. Make A breastwork of the horses. Each mind keen, Hands steady and hearts calm. We'll meet the foe With all the white man's might. Come, to your work! [All hurry out, save David, who de- tains Margaret] THE PIONEERS 41 David Now that we two may die, O Margaret, speak. Margaret [hastily'] It is too late. David One word, one loving word. Margaret [with rising voice} David, go in the fight like a real man. David Is that all, Margaret? Margaret [bursting out] What, shall we stand Back here and talk? The men are waiting for you. Go, go at once. Face the great terrible mo- ment. The time for men has come. [Goes out'] 42 THE PIONEERS [Re-enter the metiy armed. They look right and left, and are about to go out when Howard speaks. During the speech the anions of David are dramatic — at first listless — then powerful ] [Eagle-Talon disappear s'\ Howard [ gathering them] Draw near and listen : there is breathing time. You, you, and you, draw closer; bring your souls. For I would put a fire into them. Men, now we strike for all that we have sought — [Js he speaks, David begins to show interest] Out of the soft and easy East we came To found the future in the perilous West. Many will say we took the Western trail For gold — well, so we did; but something vaster Swallows that purpose. We have come for life— Life richer, thicker, happier, m.ore intense- — THE PIONEERS 43 The life 1 lived one morning I remember — [Breaks off as Eagle-Talon enters; in a quick whisper'] Is there a moving shadow in the moonlight? Eagle- Talon No shadow steals, but Eagle-Talon sees! [Goes] Howard [repeating] The life I lived one morning I remember — [Pauses ; voice becomes melodious, a letting down of the tension; he sends the men dreaming. David half kneels] Upon that morning heaven was still and blue, The air had a cool ecstasy, the light Such delicate clearness that trees out a mile Stood vivid, cut with shadow, and the river Was a blue silence dropped between still shores, The huddled grass was dewy, bobolinks Drenched the cool orchard with a spray of song, And children wandered singing in the sun. It seemed as if my senses and my soul Were bathed in the deep morning, for my body 44 THE PIONEERS Was glad, my eyes exulted, and my ears Heard heavenly music. Men and women all Gathered, and with spontaneous unison Sang all the morn out. That was life, deep- lived: For such, we search — [Goes on in rousing voice; David looks up] We heard that call of God Which sounds down all the ages, youth's own vision, That cry: *'Arise, arise, and follow me." [David rises, his face lit with new power] [Enter Eagle-Talon] [Howard speaks quickly in an aside] Sharp, at the first fleck, come. [Exit Eagle-Talon] Follow me where? Into the fulness of life. Into a richer world. There lies the West, A breast of Earth all fallow and unused, W^here we may build the vision we have seen: A life that grows out of the Earth like trees, Taking its growth from the soil and the sun and the air. THE PIONEERS 45 A life of comrades laboring together, Where many hands lighten for each the task, A life of joy that springs from labor done, Of song and dance and natural festival, A life where children may fulfil their promise — O to be out there ! to work with the hand and the brain! To fight the Indians of the long day's work, Our weapons plow and broom! To sleep be- neath Seen stars! to be as free as the veering winds! That is our West, and for such stakes we fight. We cannot lose: we have the future with us! All Hurrah! hurrah! [Enter Eagle-Talon] Eagle-Talon Many small shadows — far and far, great chief! [ Goes out] [By main force of gesture, Howard keeps the men hacF\ 46 THE PIONEERS Howard Now these few sharp, terse words: let each one tell: Aim low and waste no bullets. Keep together. Back every bullet with your heart and soul. Think of our women, our little children, our West, Our God. [Listens'] Hark! what is that comes down the wind? Is it the foe? [Silence] [Enter Eagle-Talon] Eagle-Talon Their horses gallop and their tomahawks flash: They chant the war-cry! Many They come — they come — they are upon us — [Start to go. Howard again restrains them] Howard Then — one word more. We are such friends as never THE PIONEERS '47 May gather once again. In this great hour Let us, if need be, offer up our lives For one another, and if death should come, Know that the way up still is strewed with death, And we but add ourselves to those great millions Who made it possible for us to live: Steady, with sure eye, and with burning hearts. Come! Answer their cries with silence! Come! All We come! [They dash out after their leader] [Shots; in the distance the shrilly blood- curdling * * Yow-ow-ow ! ' * of the war-cry] David [aside to Margaret with a great cry] I go to die, remember me. Margaret Oh, David, I see a hope for you. 48 THE PIONEERS David A hope? Why then I go to fight and win. [Rushes out] [Margaret is alone with Cynthia] Cynthia [panic stricken'] Shall we stay here? Is it safe? Margaret [hurrying up and down] I hear the war-cry. Listen ! [Sounds of the war-cry and shots] I cannot stay here — ^no— I cannot— Cynthia It is not safe. Margaret [with a cry] Safe? Who wants safety now? Life in itself is unsafe; ends in death, Or now or then. What, while the men fight, I To stay behind? THE PIONEERS 49 Cynthia {clutching her arm y crying out] You do not mean to go? Margaret I must^ I must. Cynthia But you — you cannot fight — Margaret The woman's place Is with the man — not fight? Then I will bind the wounds. [Rushes out. Cynthia following] [ The war-cry heard, shots in many dl- re^ionSy going out farther and farther; cries; the woods full of battle. Noise dies in distance, A long silence] SCENE II SCENE II The same: the Jire is low. Ejiter^ slowly j solemnly, at a dead-march pace, their heads bowed, four of the meriy carrying a heavy dead load in a blanket. This they lay gently on the ground before the fire. Features of John Howard seen in blanket. All characters gather^ look down, broken with silent grief; Margaret has head on Cynthia's breast. \^A deep pause'] David How many dead? Tom Two others, and our captain. {Silencel [Enler Chadwick, runnings covered with dust, forehead bound up] Chadwick [exultant] We have run the enemy down beyond the ford. The fight is won; the fight is ours. 53 54 THE PIONEERS David [holding up his hand] Soft! Look — here! [ They all stand away, Chad wick sees the body'] Chadwick [starting forward ] What! He? Oh, God, why was I spared to-night? [Sobs J turns y puts his head in his hands] Margaret [staggering forward] My father! [Sinks over the body] [Silence] Tom I saw him die. It was when he led out On the last sally; like the truest soldier He fell face forward. [Silence; Cynthia lifts Margaret and leads her away] THE PIONEERS 55 David [stands over body, softly covers it over with ends of blanket y then speaks'] Others he saved, himself he could not save. O spirit beautiful and strong, O heart Of the great father who spread out his wings And gathered us under — manliest man of all. He is dead, and we shall give him to the Earth, He is dead, and all our hearts are buried with him. He is dead, but in his death we doubly live. [A pause] [David half kneels and looks down at the face] John Howard, is it possible that you Who but two hours since poured out your soul Among us, have quite vanished from this place? No, when you fell, your spirit rose and swept Into our souls, and there it livet and works, Rem_aking us. How death does clear men*s eyes! Oh, now I see! [Rises.] I from henceforth take up The vision and the labor he laid down, I from henceforth shall make the young man's quest. Blaze the long trail into the sunset land. 56 THE PIONEERS No more for me the easy ways of life, No more the toil for self, the false content. But the large dangers of the Earth, the sweat Of daily work, and charging all, the spirit Of trying life out, the divine adventure. I swear this hour to be henceforth his knight, Armed with his faith. I swear it! All We swear! We swear! David Then bear the body to the naked plains, And under the moon make burial. [Leaning again] Oh, John Howard, We give you Godspeed, and we dream to-night You have stepped forth from the poor body of Earth Upon some new adventure yonder, yonder, In that great West we all shall shortly reach. Godspeed, Godspeed! Our voices die on earth : The stars receive you. Bear the body forth! [ They start forward to take the bod)\ but Margaret comes and half-kneels — speaks as if she could not speak'] THE PIONEERS 57 Margaret Father, as you would have it, so I speak: Goodby, your daughter is enough like you, To face this hour. Goodby, O noblest father, O greatest man and comrade — . [Her voice breaks; she cannot continue y and Cynthia again lifts her up. The men bear out the body, and all the others go, in- cluding Cynthia, who leaves David and Margaret alone, A pause] David [to Margaret] His death has been my birth. He is my father As he is yours; and I am a new man. Believe me, Margaret. Margaret [yielding] I resist no longer. David, my David! David Margaret! [A pause] Now in this solemn hour of our lives 58 THE PIONEERS I see the vision. Not of higher manhood. No, nor yet even of higher womanhood. The vision is of higher humanhood: The man, the woman, and the little child, Humaner, humaner, richer in all life. We two shall live that life in one long quest. Come, let us forth, forth to the spacious West. \^They go outy David's arm about her. As the scene empties the speaker of the epi- logue slowly enters y advances to fronty raises his handy and murmurs : * * Hush ! " ] [A pause] EPILOGUE We little human beings have our day, Then vanish from the Earth. All we to-night Shall soon be but a memory in the world. Our faces not among those newer faces — Yet are we deathless. Even as the great past Lives, lives in us, each cell of blood and brain. Each blend of spirit and vision and large dream Wrought of the mighty lives that went before. So we bend over the unborn beautiful future, THE PIONEERS 59 Out of our flesh create it, breathe in it Our faiths and loves, and lo, when it is bom Our spirits dwell in it, our faces shine in it! So let us now and then turn to the past. As we have done this day, and live it over; That we may see the daring and the faith Of men and women, real and live as we, Who made this land and us; that we may drink Of their strong lives, that we may recollect That only a great vision brings great deeds. That only hearts heroic, restless hands And unafraid spirits push the soul's frontiers Into a richer life: which lesson learnt Let us build up our brief and hurrying day Into such greatness that in some far hour Our children, gathered as we gather now. Shall re-enact our history and there find New faith, new courage, and new enterprise. Hush — for the wind is murmuring in the boughs. The night-wind, and the Earth beneath our feet, Our common Mother, gathers her children close, We comrades, and with hearts attuned to dreams. 60 THE PIONEERS We find us strangely alive in a strange world. Stars scatter about us climbing thicker and higher Up to the breathless zenith and our Earth Rolls, on this night, among them. O rich Earth, Yet but a fringe on the rich star-filled skies. And we but atoms riding on that fringe! O mystery! O Power enfolding us! O Power within us ! Somehow it is glorious Even to ride this narrow fringe and be As nothings in the boundlessness of night — There is such room for the future, such vast worlds Yet to be lived, such far adventures calling Yonder in Mars or some hid planet dim In the Milky Way. Oh, let us fling our lives In with God*s life, and in our little corner. Our cranny of Earth, make our part of the world Deathlessly great. So was the Past, so be Our living Present, and let us remember How we bright creatures came this hour to- gether. Our hearts as one, and under whispering boughs THE PIONEERS 61 Caught a brief glimpse of the divine white light That bares the future. Friends, Good-night! Good-night! End DEC 31 19t0 One copy del. to Cat. Div. ''I'llHiTii;! 11 riMiiiTr,