Fire will conquer frosted death.”
Having said that the great bird wheeled up sharply.
But no sooner was it out of sight than a turkey came running and stood a moment, gobbling. To it the old man gave a lighted brand, repeating the words the condor had spoken.
Off sped the turkey with the blazing stick, running through marsh and swamp in a straight line, and Luis and the old man watched. Soon the bird came to a shallow lagoon, yet made no halt. Straight through the water it sped, and so swiftly that the spray dashed up on either side. High the turkey held the stick, but not high enough, for the splashing water quenched the fire, and seeing that, the bird returned, dropping the blackened stick at the old man’s feet.
“Give me another, for the maiden is quivering cold,” said the turkey. “This time I will run round the lake.”
“No. No,” answered the man. “You must know that when the water spirit kisses the fire king, the fire king dies. So, that you may remember, from now and for ever you will carry on your feathers the marks of rippling water.”
Down again swooped the condor and a little behind him came a goose, flying heavily. As before, the condor cried:
“Now with cold grows faint her breath,
Fire will conquer frosted death.”
then flew away again toward the witch mountain.