Then, mad though he was, Fidu turned and trotted with unerring canine instinct back to the bridge across the stream. Reaching the bridge he faltered not but dove off bravely into the deep, dark water and retrieved Gud's reason.
All wet and cold, he came back to his poor master's side and laid Gud's reason down beside Gud's head and then barked loudly.
But Gud did not hear the bark of the Underdog, for Gud was dead. So it must be that the hero of this tale, in what shall come hereafter, is only the Ghost of Gud.
Chapter XXXIII
The mists that whirl in greater mists
Around the cliffs of space
Leave little drops of water
Upon his wrinkled face.
Have you heard Him, as walking through
The valleys of the night
He paces ever back and forth,
Silent, old and white?
Upon some jagged piece of dust
As high as night is high,
He watches all the tiny worlds
Go spinning down the sky.
Around Him are the burning stars
That toss like little ships,
The winds blow out of dim unknowns
Across his very lips.
Have you seen Him amid the silence,
Vast as a silken cloud,
Lifting His arms with jeweled pendants
Cloaked in a heavy shroud?