Life's too easy here, I tell you." Fairfax spoke with decision. "I understand everything, and I am understood. Summer and winter alternate like the sun flashing through the palings of a fence, the seasons are a blur of light and shade, and time slips by, and life slips by, and then ... a wailing in the forest, and the dark. Listen!"
He held up his hand, and the silver thread of the woman's sorrow
through the silence and the calm. Fairfax joined in softly.
"O-o-o-o-o-o-a-haa-ha-a-ha-aa-a-a, O-o-o-o-o-o-a-ha-a-ha-a," he
"Can't you hear it? Can't you see it? The women mourning? the funeral
chant? my hair white-locked and patriarchal? my skins wrapped in rude
splendor about me? my hunting-spear by my side? And who shall say it is
And thy man, how is it with him and thee?"
"He sings strange songs," Thom made answer, "and there is a new look
"So? He hath spoken?"
"Nay, but there is a new look on his face, a new light in his eyes,
with the New-Comer he sits by the fire, and they talk and talk, and the
talk is without end.