| OCR Text |
Show From the angry sunbeam and had escaped her Drying witchcraft in mountain shadows. They brightened the way, and the pines seemed To be whispering secrets to one another. Up they climbed through red cedar trees and Scrub Oak, making their way slowly. Older Brother watched sun and clouds. Morning Dove talked to the birds and small animals. The girl's sorrow was lifted with each step As they climbed higher and higher toward the peak, For they were walking in the footprints Of Great Spirit. They rested often. Morning Dove stopped now and then to collect Bright feathers. Once they napped on pine Boughs in the shade of a dark blue limestone overhang Many of the streams had become dried, cracked Mud, and they knew great thirst. The mark Of summer was upon the mountain. Little by little they climbed. When they came To patches of red snow high on the mountain They knew they were getting closer. Red was sacred and was a sign of pleasure From Great Spirit. At last they reached A small mountain pool at the foot of a great glacier, On the shadowed side of the peak. |
