The roads were thronged with the people moving toward the great square, for it was a feast of the Goddess. The temples were crowded, while long lines of men and maidens in the robes of “The Sacred” wound in and out toward the river.
Music and song rose and fell upon the evening breeze, like the pulse of a throbbing heart. Here and there could be seen the Scribes, and seated in an open space, the Tale-tellers. One of these, as I rested near him, told the tale of
ONE WHO FOUND THE GEM.
“In the land of the Wise-men, there dwelt a young man. Many years had he labored in a strange mine; the ‘Mine of the Priceless Gems;’—hopefully, bravely, but fruitlessly. He had long known that he who should find the Master Stone, would be free, be full of peace and dig no more, for nothing better could be found. He also knew that he who found the stone should seek to share it with all men.
“Many small stones had he found, but they were laid aside to be used when the great stone was reached.
“Silently and steadily he worked on, until one gloomy day when he had grown so weak that he could make but one more effort, that effort was rewarded, and before him lay the great gem. Weary, weak, but joyful, he gathered it into his bosom, and went forth to share it with others; for he who told not of his gem, or shared it not with all men, must lose the stone.
“Far he wandered, telling his wonderful story, the finding of the Priceless Stone—the stone that made men greater, wiser, more loving than all things living; the stone that no man could keep unless he gave it away.
“Far he wandered in his own country, seeking to tell his story and give of the Stone to each one he met. Silently they listened—gravely they meditated and gently they said to him: ‘This is Kali-yuga, the dark age. Come to us a hundred thousand years from now. Until then—the stone is not for us. It is Karma.’
“Far into another land he wandered, ever trying for the same end. Gravely they listened, quietly they spoke: ‘Peace be with you. When the Lotus ceases to bloom and our Sacred River runs dry, come to us. Until then we need not the stone.’
“Over the seas unto another land he went, for fully he believed that there they would hear and share with him. The many days of wandering and the long journey across the sea had made him thin and ragged. He had not thought of this, but as he told his story he was reminded of it and many other things, for here the people answered in many ways, and not always gently.