"Far away," said the matriarch, "I once heard from the tongue of a lark of golden days of bow and drum and of men who chased. Now they come in rags of greed, no regard for our dignity." She began to dream and the wind did rage and the forest cried "Run away," she told him then, "Find a place to hide from them." Far away from behind a tree came a sound to defy the peace and the son went down quietly in a pool of reeds "Of Bow And Drum" Monday, May 6, 1996