The Acorn-Planter. Джек Лондон

The Acorn-Planter - Джек Лондон


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I am the Acorn-Planter.

           I brought down the acorns from heaven.

           I planted the short acorns in the valley.

           I planted the long acorns in the valley.

           I planted the black-oak acorns that sprout, that sprout!

           I planted the sho-kum and all the roots of the ground.

           I planted the oat and the barley, the beaver-tail grass-nut,

           The tar-weed and crow-foot, rock lettuce and ground lettuce,

           And I taught the virtue of clover in the season of blossom,

           The yellow-flowered clover, ball-rolled in its yellow dust.

           I taught the cooking in baskets by hot stones from the fire,

           Took the bite from the buckeye and soap-root

           By ground-roasting and washing in the sweetness of water,

           And of the manzanita the berry I made into flour,

           Taught the way of its cooking with hot stones in sand pools,

           And the way of its eating with the knobbed tail of the deer.

           Taught I likewise the gathering and storing,

           The parching and pounding

           Of the seeds from the grasses and grass-roots;

           And taught I the planting of seeds in the Nishinam home-camps,

           In the Nishinam hills and their valleys,

           In the due times and seasons,

           To sprout in the spring rains and grow ripe in the sun.

           Shaman     Hail, Red Cloud, the first man!

           The People     Hail, Red Cloud, the first man!

           Shaman     Who showedst us the way of our feet in the world!

           The People     Who showedst us the way of our feet in the world!

           Shaman     Who showedst us the way of our food in the world!

           The People     Who showedst us the way of our food in the world!

           Shaman     Who showedst us the way of our hearts in the world!

           The People     Who showedst us the way of our hearts in the world!

           Shaman     Who gavest us the law of family!

           The People     Who gavest us the law of family!

           Shaman     The law of tribe!

           The People     The law of tribe!

           Shaman     The law of totem!

           The People     The law of totem!

           Shaman     And madest us strong in the world among men!

           The People     And madest us strong in the world among men!

           Red Cloud     Life is good, O Shaman, and I have sung but

           half its song. Acorns are good. So is woman

           good. Strength is good. Beauty is good. So is

           kindness good. Yet are all these things without

           power except for woman. And by these things

           woman makes strong men, and strong men make

           for life, ever for more life.

           War Chief     (With gesture of interruption that causes

           remonstrance from the Shaman but which

           Red Cloud acknowledges.)

           I care not for beauty. I desire strength in

           battle and wind in the chase that I may kill my

           enemy and run down my meat.

           Red Cloud     Well spoken, O War Chief. By voices in

           council we learn our minds, and that, too, is

           strength. Also, is it kindness. For kindness

           and strength and beauty are one. The eagle in

           the high blue of the sky is beautiful. The salmon

           leaping the white water in the sunlight is beautiful.

           The young man fastest of foot in the race

           is beautiful. And because they fly well, and leap

           well, and run well, are they beautiful. Beauty

           must beget beauty. The ring-tail cat begets

           the ring-tail cat, the dove the dove. Never

           does the dove beget the ring-tail cat. Hearts

           must be kind. The little turtle is not kind.

           That is why it is the little turtle. It lays its

           eggs in the sun-warm sand and forgets its young

           forever. And the little turtle is forever the

           Kttle turtle. But we are not little turtles,

           because we are kind. We do not leave our young

           to the sun in the sand. Our women keep our

           young warm under their hearts, and, after, they

           keep them warm with deer-skin and campfire.

           Because we are kind we are men and not little

           turtles, and that is why we eat the little turtle

           that is not strong because it is not kind.

           War Chief     (Gesturing to be heard.)     The Modoc come against us in their strength.

           Often the Modoc come against us. We cannot

           be kind to the Modoc.

           Red Cloud     That will come after. Kindness grows. First

           must we be kind to our own. After, long after,

           all men will be kind to all men, and all men will

           be very strong. The strength of the Nishinam

           is not the strength of its strongest fighter. It is

           the strength of all the Nishinam added together

           that makes the Nishinam strong. We talk, you

           and I, War Chief and First Man, because we are

           kind one to the other, and thus we add together

          


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