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Updated: June 3, 2025
Keela had come with the Mulberry Moon to the home of her foster father, a presence of delicate gravity and shyness which pervaded the lodge like the breath of some vivid wild flower. "Red-winged Blackbird," said Carl, one morning, laying aside the flute which had been showering tranquil melody through the quiet beneath the moss-hung oaks, "why are you so quiet?"
It always gets me. We'd better motor around a bit and clear my brain out. I'd hate awfully to have the Sherrills think I'm in love." Almost anything one could say, reflected Diane uncomfortably, inspired Philip's brain to fresh fertility. The camp of Keela, domiciled indefinitely in the flat-woods to sell to winter tourists, proved a welcome outlet for the fretting gypsy tide in Diane's veins.
"The one friend," said Carl, "to whom I have told all things. The one friend, Red-winged Blackbird, who always understood!" "I," said Keela with majesty, "I too am your friend and I understand." Carl reddened a little. "What do you understand, little Indian lady?" he asked quietly. He was totally unprepared for the keenness of her unsmiling analysis.
No-chit-pay-lon-es-chay!" he added irresponsibly, naming a word he had picked up in Palm Beach from an Indian guide. The effect was electric. Keela stared. Diane look horrified. "Philip!" she said. "It means 'Lie down and go to sleep!" "To the Happy Hunting Ground with that bonehead Indian!" said Philip with fervor. "Lord, what a civil retort!" and he stammered forth an instant apology.
Wild relief at Carl's tale of the jealous Indian, thoughts of Philip, of Carl, of Keela, of Ronador, all these, persistently haunting the girl's harassed mind, had wearied her greatly. Moreover, Aunt Agatha was not restful; nor would she depart.
He slept soundly until morning. When he awoke it was broad daylight. There was a curious sense of utter rest in his veins and meeting Keela's solicitous glance, he said, a little diffidently, that he was better and that he thought they might go on. After a breakfast of quail and wild cassava they rode on, Keela on Themar's horse. Her own obediently followed.
Like the white student of books, I know many curious things that he has taught me." "And your name?" asked Diane, heroically mastering her mystified confusion. "May I may I not know that too?" "Shock-kil-law," came the ready reply. "That readily becomes Keela!" exclaimed Diane smiling. The girl nodded. "So Mic-co has said. And so indeed he calls me." "Tell me, Keela, what does it mean?"
"I am very strong," said Keela simply. "The vultures will get him. It is the Indian way with one who murders." Their eyes met, a great wave of crimson suddenly dyed Keela's throat and face and swept in lovely tide to the brilliant turban. A constrained silence fell between them, broken only by the whir of a great heron flapping by on snowy wings.
The tense, droning string in Carl's head whirred again and snapped. He lay in a heavy stupor, dozing fitfully until the moon climbed high again above the Glades. When consciousness and a restful sense of returning strength came at last Keela was bending anxiously over him. "You have been quiet so long," she said gravely, "that I grew afraid. Drink."
"And you said there were only six!" "There is no seventh Pleiad!" said Philip with stubborn decision. "Eight!" said Keela shyly. And they both stared. Shooting a final arrow, she sent it so far that Philip indignantly refused to look for it. At dawn one morning a long black car shot out from Jacksonville and took to the open road.
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