While these terrible thoughts were chasing each other thro’ my mind, Benè-agâ halted; and, resting his staff upon the branches of the nearest tree, broke out into one of his wild invocations:
“O Palin-mâ-Talin, Benè-agâ calls unto thee! Hear him! He is astray! Set his feet in the right path! Let him not wander aimlessly about in thy gloom and silence. O, Palin-mâ-Talin! He is thy child; be kind and loving to him!”
With these words Benè-agâ threw himself upon his knees, tore away the thick covering of moss, until he had laid bare the forest floor; from this, he took up a handful of the soil and pressed it between his fingers as if to test some secret quality.
When he arose I knew that all was well. A radiant glow played about his features. He was himself again!
Catching up his wand, he broke away with mad strides, as if pursued by very demons. Only by running could I keep within sight of him.
On! on! we sped along the banks of Lool-pâ-Tool stream of the “Drowsy Watery,” mile by mile, Benè-agâ carolling his wild chants of glad thanks, I panting as if bent upon escaping fleshless death himself. Another hundred paces and I would have fallen headlong to the ground.
My feet seemed shod with lead.
Bulger set up a most piteous whining as he saw the look of despair settling on my face.
Suddenly the blind hermit halted; and, turning towards me, cried out in a joyous tone:
“This is the place my son. It is all over now! Fear nothing! Mount on my shoulders! Thou wilt not add a feather’s weight to the burdens which I carry there! Be not troubled about thy dog. Lool-pâ-Tool has no terrors for him.” Such was my confidence in the blind hermit’s power to bear me safety across the mysterious stream that I did not wait for a second bidding to mount upon his shoulders altho’ as far as I could see, the waters of Lool-pâ-Tool looked just as black and deep as ever. Advancing to the edge of the stream Benè-agâ now began, with quick and nervous movement of his staff, to search for hidden stepping stones.