THE LAY OF SAINT LINGO. 



197 



When lie comes to see his rice- 

 field, 

 What on earth will he think of 

 itr' 

 Then thevery youthful Ehdsyal, 

 To the sixteen scores of Eohees 

 Counsel offered, spake in this 



wise — 

 " Listen, brethren ! let us speed 



now 

 To our forest shades primeval. 

 On the stones our feet well placing, 

 On the leaves our footsteps 



keeping, 

 On the grass our way selecting, 

 On the soil no footmarks leaving. 

 Let us cunningly our way take 

 To our forest shades primeval." 

 As he said so did the Rohees, 

 Lightly stepping left no traces, 

 Marks of footsteps none appeared ; 

 Reached their forest shades prim- 

 eval. 

 Some to sit down, some to sleep 



went, 

 Some to stand up in the cool shade, 

 'Gan these sixteen scores of 

 Rohees. 

 Midst the perfume sweet of 

 flowers, 

 Swinging in a swing, was Lingo ; 

 Swinging slept he, and he dreamed, 

 Dreamt of sixteen scores of 



liohees, 

 Of a devastated rice-field. 

 And his soul was greatly troubled ; 

 And he rose and looked about him. 

 Looked, and went to reconnoitre 

 By the way of Kachikopa; 

 Went he through the Iron A-^alley, 

 To the Red Hills, Lahugada, 

 Went the very valiant Lingo ; 

 Saw the devastated rice-field ; 

 Thence returning, to the Brothers, 

 Brothers sleeping in their Avig- 

 wams, 



Spake our Lingo — " Listen, 



Bi'others, 

 Listen to my doleful story, 

 How these sixteen scores of 



Rohees 

 All ourrice-field havedemolishcd.'' 

 Then the Brothers, greatly troubled 

 By this doleful tale of Lingo, 

 Wailed a wail of disappointment. 

 Spake the words of bitter anguish — 

 "To the gods our yearly firstfruits, 

 Firstfruits that we yearly oiler, 

 Now of what shall Ave give first- 

 fruits, 

 Since our rice-field is demolished'?" 

 AnsAvered Lingo — " Lo a first- 

 fruit 

 To the Gods of Rohees' livers, 

 Of the sixteen scores of Rohees 

 Liver firstfruits shall Ave offer. 

 On the perfume of the flowers 

 I, a devotee, can prosper ; 

 Ye are Gonds with hungry 



stomachs, 

 WhereAvithal shall they be filled. 

 Now these sixteen scores of 



Rohees 

 All our rice-field have de- 

 molished ? " 

 Then the Brothers took their 

 weapons — 

 Bows of bamboo from the moun- 

 tains, 

 Shafts of bulrush from the 



marshes ; 

 And in Avrath they sought the 



rice-field, 

 Where the soil Avas black and 



naked, 

 SaAv they nothing but the stubble 

 Of the rice that waved so greenly. 

 Then a fiame of mighty anger, 

 From the heels of Lingo rising. 

 To his matted head ascended, 

 lieddened Avere his eyes like fire- 

 brands, 



