It was all in tune with the traditions of their
race.
As dawn broke, and its rosy light valanced the horizon, a great
procession moved away from the River Sagalac towards the East, to which
all wandering and Oriental peoples turn their eyes. With it, all that was
mortal of Gabriel Druse went to its hidden burial. Only to the Romany
people would his last resting-place be known; it would be as obscure as
the grave of him who was laid:
"By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave."
Many people from Manitou and Lebanon watched the long procession pass,
and two remained until the last wagon had disappeared over the crest of
the prairie. Behind them were the tents of the Indian reservation; before
them was the alert morn and the rising sun; and ever moving on to the
rest his body had earned was the great chief lovingly attended by his own
Romany folk; while his daughter, forbidden to share in the ceremonial of
race, remained with the stranger.
With a face as pale and cold as the western sky, the desolation of this
last parting and a tragic renunciation giving her a deathly beauty, Fleda
stood beside the man who must hereafter be, to her, father, people, and
all else. Shuddering with the pain of this hour, yet resolved to begin
the new life here and now, as the old life faded before her eyes, she
turned to him, and, with the passing of the last Romany over the crest of
the hill, she said bravely:
"I want to help you do the big things.
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