and spears and a sky full of hail; wrecking the trees and flowers, smashing the birds, jarring the hills, tilting the lake from end to end so its waters went foaming and racing. Flying coppery fragments in the sky; cold wmd pursuing the hot wind; a broad and trampled pathway across all the Chaska-land where the two had united in battle.
Down, down on all sides fall the shards of the bowl. The blue sky is appearing. Down, down to the margin they fall — and are lost.
The pent-up rain has been emptied: only the gentle shower of last night is now falling. The frightened lake looks pleasantly blue and rippling. The cool breeze is abroad; and out of a thicket all trampled and smashed by the fighters ..text continues