"Only in the same way that He sends everything, Ha'o—light and wind and rain."
"Why did He send this when we were doing our best to please Him?"
"It came in the ordinary way of things. It was just a bigger storm than usual."
"We never had it like this before," said Ha'o, sticking stubbornly to his point. "My people are saying it is your God sent it. If He is that kind of a god we don't want Him."
"How do you train your young men, Ha'o? By treating them softly? By petting them, and giving them all things easy and pleasant?"
"Nay, we toughen them, so that they may endure."
"Exactly! Do you think that God knows less than you? He also wants men who can endure even when the fight goes against them."
That seemed to strike him. He went on stolidly hauling and carrying, and at last said, bitterly—
"If He had left my people alive, Kenni, and not broken Nai, I would have thought better of Him."
"Let us be grateful for what is left, my friend. Nai will get better. Many of our people are dead, but more are left than we think, perhaps."