Tales of Three Hemispheres | Page 9

peaks they held it, above Narn, Ktoon, and Pti. So high their
peak arises that no man heard their voices. They spake on that cloudy
mountain (not the highest hamlet heard them). "What doth the Goddess

of Abundance," (but naming her Lling, as they name her), "what doth
she sending sweet dreams for seven nights to Ap Ariph?"
And the gods sent for their seer who is all eyes and feet, running to and
fro on the Earth, observing the ways of men, seeing even their littlest
doings, never deeming a doing too little, but knowing the web of the
gods is woven of littlest things. He it is that sees the cat in the garden of
parakeets, the thief in the upper chamber, the sin of the child with the
honey, the women talking indoors and the small hut's innermost things.
Standing before the gods he told them the case of Ap Ariph and the
wrongs of Meoul Ki Ning and the rape of the lotus lily; he told of the
cutting and making of Ap Ariph's bamboo bow, of the shooting of
Meoul Ki Ning, and of how the arrow hit him, and the smile on the face
of Lling when she came by the lotus bloom.
And the gods were wroth with Ap Ariph and swore to avenge Ki Ning.
And the ancient one of the gods, he that is older than Earth, called up
the thunder at once, and raised his arms and cried out on the gods' high
windy mountain, and prophesied on those rocks with runes that were
older than speech, and sang in his wrath old songs that he had learned
in storm from the sea, when only that peak of the gods in the whole of
the earth was dry; and he swore that Ap Ariph should die that night,
and the thunder raged about him, and the tears of Lling were vain.
The lightning stroke of the gods leaping earthward seeking Ap Ariph
passed near to his house but missed him. A certain vagabond was down
from the hills, singing songs in the street near by the house of Ap Ariph,
songs of a former folk that dwelt once, they say, in those valleys, and
begging for rice and curds; it was him the lightning hit.
And the gods were satisfied, and their wrath abated, and their thunder
rolled away and the great black clouds dissolved, and the ancient one of
the gods went back to his age-old sleep, and morning came, and the
birds and the light shone on the mountain, and the peak stood clear to
see, the serene home of the gods.

THE GIFT OF THE GODS
There was once a man who sought a boon of the gods. For peace was
over the world and all things savoured of sameness, and the man was
weary at heart and sighed for the tents and the warfields. Therefore he
sought a boon of the ancient gods. And appearing before them he said
to them, "Ancient gods; there is peace in the land where I dwell, and
indeed to the uttermost parts, and we are full weary of peace. O ancient
gods, grant us war!"
And the ancient gods made him a war.
And the man went forth with his sword, and behold it was even war.
And the man remembered the little things that he knew, and thought of
the quiet days that there used to be, and at night on the hard ground
dreamed of the things of peace. And dearer and dearer grew the wonted
things, the dull but easeful things of the days of peace, and
remembering these he began to regret the war, and sought once more a
boon of the ancient gods, and appearing before them he said: "O
ancient gods, indeed but a man loves best the days of peace. Therefore
take back your war and give us peace, for indeed of all your
blessedness peace is best."
And the man returned again to the haunts of peace.
But in a while the man grew weary of peace, of the things that he used
to know, and the savour of sameness again; and sighing again for the
tents, and appearing once more to the gods, he said to them: "Ancient
gods; we do not love your peace, for indeed the days are dull, and a
man is best at war."
And the gods made him a war.
And there were drums again, the smoke of campfires again, wind in the
waste again, the sound of horses of war, burning cities again, and the
things that wanderers know; and the thoughts of that man went home to
the ways of peace; moss upon lawns again, light in old spires again, sun
upon gardens again, flowers in