Thinking thus, desolation took hold of me and I sat myself down on a
rock and covered my face with my hands that I might not see the tears,
which I knew were gathering in my eyes, as they fell from them. Yes,
there in the midst of that awful solitude, I, Hubert of Hastings, whose
soul it filled, sat down like a lost child and wept.
Presently I felt a touch upon my shoulder and let fall my hands,
thinking that Kari had found me out, to hear a soft voice, the voice of
Quilla, say:
"So it seems that the gods can weep. Why do you weep, O
God-from-the-Waves who here are named Hurachi?"
"I weep," I answered, "because I am a stranger in a strange land; I weep
because I have not wings whereon I can fly away like that great bird
above us."
She looked at me awhile, then said, most gently:
"And whither would you fly, O God-from-the-Sea? Back into the sea?"
"Cease to call me a god," I answered, "who, as you know well, am but a
man though of another race than yours."
"I thought it but I did not know. But whither would you fly, O Lord
Hurachi?"
"To the land where I was born, Lady Quilla; the land that I shall never
see again.
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