“But no,” said Nasca. “To use that would but make two terrible cats, and one is more than enough.”
“Heed me, Nasca, and bring the ax,” she repeated.
At that the boy ran swiftly and brought the ax.
“Now stand, Nasca, and fear not,” said the old woman, and lifted the ax. So the lad stood, closing his eyes when he saw her raise the ax to strike.
Then with a swift blow she brought the weapon down on Nasca’s head, cutting him in two, and in a moment there stood before her two Nascas, each as like the other as one blade of grass is like another. Surely and well had the ax done its work. One Nasca was as shapely as the other, one as fair-skinned as the other.
“Now,” said the old woman, “happy was I with one Nasca, so doubly happy shall I be with two. So stay you here, Nasca the first, and Nasca the second must come with me. Oh, a merry world and a glad will it be now, since joy and gladness are doubled.”
At that she remembered that she had told neither lad anything, in her delight, so she turned again to the first Nasca.
“Wait here for the great cat,” she said. “Go with her to the great cañon where the race must start, and when the cat makes to leap across, which she will do, do you climb down a little way, then hide yourself until the cat returns. Doubtless we shall be able to manage matters at the other end. But see to it that you chide the cat for her slowness when she returns after the first run, and we shall see what we shall see.”
Having said that, the old woman set off with Nasca the second, walking bravely over the ridges and hills that rose one behind the other like the waves of the sea. And when they had come to a far place where the mountain dropped down like a great stone wall to a fearful depth, they sat them down to wait, Nasca the second being in plain sight, the old woman hiding behind a rock.
But as soon as the moon rose the great cat walked to where Nasca the first stood, her eyes glaring terribly and her hair all a-bristle. So horrible a sight was she that for a moment Nasca went deadly pale, but he spoke boldly enough, nevertheless, for the brave one is not he that does not fear, but rather he that fears and yet does the thing that he has set out to do.