But tell me--what was it in the mention of my name that made you think of magic ?" "Loskiel, you came two hundred miles to ask of me the question that this maid had asked in every camp." "What question ?" "Where lay the trail to Catharines-town," he said.
"Did she ask that ?" I demanded in astonishment.
"It was ever the burden of her piping--this rosy-throated pigeon of the woods." "That is most strange," said I.
"It is doubtless sorcery that she should ask of me an interview with you who came two hundred miles to ask of me the very question." "But, Mayaro, she did not then know why I had come to seek you." "I knew as quickly as I heard your name." "How could you know before you saw me and I had once made plain my business ?" "Birds come and go; but eagles see their natal nest once more before they die." "I do not understand you, Mayaro." He made no answer.
"Merely to hear my name from this child's lips, you say you guessed my business with you ?" "Surely, Loskiel--surely.

It was all done by magic.

And, at once, I knew that I should also speak to her, there in the storm, and answer her her question." "And did you do so ?" "Yes, Loskiel.

I said to her: 'Little sad rosy-throated pigeon of the woods, the vale Yndaia lies by a hidden river in the West.

Some call it Catharines-town.'" I shook my head, perplexed, and understanding nothing.
"Yndaia?
Did you say Yndaia, Mayaro ?" Then, as he looked me steadily in the eye, my gaze became uneasy, shifted, fell by an accident upon the blood-red bear reared on his hind legs, pictured upon his breast.