With a shrug Baker complied, and the rest of us followed. Down the hall we marched again, through all of the turns of the morning and so at last into the corridor which ended in a window. This time we passed the aluminum door and continued right to the end. The window, we now saw, was really a French door which opened to a small balcony. Our guide opened the door and pushed us out. The balcony, we found, was about four hundred feet above the valley floor, but we did not spend much time enjoying the view.
Scarcely fifty feet in front of us stood the Living Buddha!
For a full minute we stared at each other, and then I began to realize that he was embarrassed! A wrinkle appeared between his eyes and he swallowed a couple of times. Then he spoke.
"Good afternoon, Professor Baker and party. I am happy to meet you."
The voice, and particularly the language, so startled us that for a moment nobody could think of a reply. The voice was a deep pulsing rumble, like the tone of the biggest pipes of an organ, and filled with a variety of glottal wheezings and windy overtones. I think it was through these additional sounds rather than the actual tones that we could understand him at all, for the fundamentals were surely below the ordinary limits of human audibility. What we heard and could translate into articulate words was hardly more than a cavernous whisper. The important thing was that we could understand him, and, more than that, that he was friendly. Baker made reply at last.
"Good afternoon. We also are happy, and most honored. How should we address you?"
"My name is Kazu Takahashi, but I am told that I am also Buddha. This I would like to discuss with you, if you have time."
"We have time for nothing else," said Baker.
Buddha's eyebrows raised slightly. "So I was right. They are going to kill you."
Baker glanced at us meaningfully. This giant was no fool. Suddenly there came over me a little thrill of hope. Maybe—but he was speaking again.