“Tell her, Noie,” said Rachel, “that
my mother, who was fore-sighted, always said that
I should live out my days, and I fear that it is true,
who must live them out alone.”
“Yes, yes, she was right, that mother of thine,”
answered Nya, “and for the rest, who knows?
But thou art hungry, eat; afterwards we will talk,”
and she pointed to a stool upon which was food.
Rachel tasted and found it very good, a kind of porridge,
made of she knew not what, and with it forest fruits,
but no flesh. So she ate heartily, and Noie ate
with her. Nya ate also, but only a very little.
“Why should I trouble to eat?” she said,
“I to whom death draws near?”
When they had finished eating, at some signal which
Rachel did not perceive, mutes came in who bore away
the fragments of the meal. After they had gone
the three women washed themselves in the water of the
fountain. Then Noie combed out Rachel’s
golden hair, and clothed her again in her robe of
silken fur that she had cleansed, throwing over it
a mantle of snowy white fibre, such as the dwarfs
wove into cloth, which she and Nya had made ready
while Rachel slept.
As Noie put it about her mistress and stepped back
to see how it became her beauty, two of the dwarf-mutes
appeared creeping up the cave, and squatting down
before Nya began to make signs to her.
“What is it?” asked Rachel nervously.
“Eddo is without,” answered the Mother,
“and would speak with us.”
“I fear Eddo and will not go,” exclaimed
Rachel.
“Nay, have no fear, Maiden, for here he can
not harm thee or any of us; it is the place of sanctuary.
Come, let us see this priest; perhaps we may learn
something from him.”
THE CITY OF THE DEAD
Nya led the way down the cave, followed by Rachel
and Noie. Squatted in its entrance, so as to
be out of reach of the rays of the sun, sat Eddo,
looking like a malevolent toad, and with him were Hana
and some other priests. As Rachel approached
they all rose and saluted, but to Nya and Noie they
gave no salute. Only to Nya Eddo said:
“Why art thou not within the Fence, old woman?”
and he pointed with his chin towards the place of
death above. “Thy tree is down, and all
last night we were hacking off its branches that it
may dry up the sooner. It is time for thee to
die.”
“I die when my tree dies, not before, Priest,”
answered Nya. “I have still some work to
do before I die, also I have planted my tree again
in good soil, and it may grow.”
“I saw,” said Eddo; “it is without
the wall there, but many a generation must go by before
a new Mother sits beneath its shade. Well, die
when it pleases you, it does not matter when, since
thou art no more our Mother. Moreover, learn
that all have deserted thee, save a very few, most
of whom have just now passed within the Fence above
that they may attend thee amongst the ghosts.”
