WARDEN of the river-bank, who marshals the cottonwoods at the water’s edge. He appeareth at the full of day as a wall of burning trees crowded against the green water, the pale cliffs standing back beyond them as if the river had drawn a line past which the stone may not come. His office is to hold the border between the two kingdoms: on his side, the quick red life that drinks the river; on the far side, the slow gray country that drinks nothing. The river feeds him and he defends it, each pretending not to know of the bargain. He is the louder brother of the Evening of the River, and the day belongs to him.
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