His dogs—Bulger among them—bounded forward with a loud chorus of barking. Benè-agâ caught the stranger’s voice. “It pains me deeply,” he cried, “to rob him of his playfellows, for I see him gamboling and sporting with my children!”
As the blind hermit stooped, his dogs, with loud cries of sorrow at parting, sprang up to lick his face and hands.
“Go, my children! Go, my brothers!” said Benè-agâ. “Content yourselves. I’ll come again soon, very soon, with love warmed by absence!”
All was now ready for the start. Beneath the rising sun I could see a long, dark line, far away, where earth and sky came together. It was Palin-mâ-Talin. Home of Darkness! The Great Gloomy Forest!
Thither Benè-agâ now directed his footsteps with astonishing rapidity of gait, tapping the ground with his long, polished wand as he hurried along!
Awe-struck, I followed my blind guide!
In comparison with such miraculous powers of hearing, smelling and feeling, my eyes were worthless. Ever and anon he called out to me:
“Guard thee well, my son, a viper stirred in the grass to thy left! Guard thee well, my son, to touch the leaves of the flowering shrub through which we are passing now—they are poisonous.”
“Guard thee well, my son, to taste the waters of the rivulet to which we are coming, until I have made trial of its purity.”
“Guard thee well, my son, to pluck one of the flowers which now delight thy eye, and charm thee with their odor. ’Tis next to death to breath their perfume close to thy nostrils.”