{Red Cloud} Death is a stench in the nostrils, Life is beauty and joy. The planters are ever brothers. Never are the warriors brothers; Their ways are set apart, Their hands raised each against each. The planters' ways are the one way. Ever they plant for life, For life more abundant, For beauty of head and hand, For the voices of children playing, And the laughter of maids in the twilight And the lover's song in the gloom. {All Voices} Hail, Red Cloud! The first planter! The Acorn-Planter! The maker of life! Hail! All hail! The New Day dawns, The day of brotherhood, The day of man! THE END