"
The whistling voice ceased while the priests and all there stared at
me, for they seemed to think its words fateful. Then suddenly it began
again:
"And who is this that came out of the sea with the Shining One, having
wandered further than any of his ancient blood? I know. I know, yet I
may not say, since the Spirit of spirits whose image he wears upon his
heart bids me be silent. Be bold! Be bold! Prosper and grow great, Child
of Pachacamac, for thy wanderings are not yet done. Still there is
a mountain to be climbed, and on the crest of it hangs a fringe of
Heaven's gold."
Again the voice ceased, while this time all stared at Kari, who shook
his head humbly as though bewildered by what he could not understand.
Once more the image spoke:
"Who is this daughter of the Sun, in whose veins play moonbeams and who
is fairer than the evening star? One, I think, whom men shall desire and
because of whom shall flow the blood of the great. One whose thought
is swift as the lightning and subtle as the snake, one in whom passion
burns like fire in the womb of the mountain, but who is filled with
spirit that dances above the fire and who longs for things that are
afar.
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