The gale dashed salt spray and
raindrops spitefully into our faces, yet it dampened neither our
spirits nor those of the performers.
A large stadium capable of accommodating forty thousand people
had been erected near the seashore behind a field of action or
immense stage four hundred feet wide and with a depth of four
hundred and fifty feet. This stage had to be illuminated from a
distance of over one hundred and fifty feet, requiring for the
pageant over three hundred kilowatts power, enough electrical
energy to operate thirteen thousand ordinary house lights, and
by far the largest installation for this purpose that has been
used in this country.
Suddenly, from a canopied rock, was heard a rich, powerful voice
speaking to the American people of the changes and vicissitudes
that the rock has witnessed since "far primordial ages." Fit
prologue it was from the "corner-stone of the Republic."
Out of the shadowy night from where is heard the mysterious
voice of the rock thirty Indians, bearing ten canoes on their
shoulders, move silently toward the shore. Suddenly one of the
Indians perceives a strange object to the left on the harbor.
Terror seizes them all, and they vanish like larger among lesser
shadows. Nine more Indians appear bearing three boats but,
seeing the phantom, fear fell upon them and they dropped to the
shore, covering themselves with their canoes. From the right
appears a Norse galley, the armor-clad warriors and their leader
Thorwald making a fine picture as they disembark, carrying their
shields, spears, and battle axes. As the men draw near they see
the three canoes, and Thorwald forms three groups from his
company, who approach rapidly toward them. The approach so
frightens the Indians under two of the canoes that they rise up
and attempt to flee; whereupon the warriors after some fierce
fighting, kill them with their javelins.
The third boat is removed and reveals three Indians too
terrified to move. One escapes and one is captured; another,
feigning death, creeps slowly and painfully to the left, where
his every gesture reveals the agonies of a mortally wounded
warrior. The canoes are taken and borne aloft, on the shoulders
of the majestic Vikings, trophies of a foreign land and
victorious conflict.
No sooner do they pass on board the ship than a watcher in the
prow warns the rest of impending danger; for, swiftly and warily
approaching; the infuriated red men seem to be planning revenge
in a surprise attack. Like a wall of flashing steel the shields
go up around the deck while the gangplank is quickly drawn in.
Suddenly a shower of arrows fly toward the wall of shields,
hitting them with a thud but seemingly doing no harm.
