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 CHAPTER XIII

BENEATH THE SHADOWING WINGS

One by one the terrified tribesmen crept away. When the last of them were gone the priest advanced to Leo and saluted him by placing his hand upon his forehead.

Lord, he said, in the same corrupt Grecian dialect which was used by the courtiers of Kaloon, I will not ask if you are hurt, since from the moment that you entered the sacred river and set foot within this land you and your companion were protected by a power invisible and could not be harmed by man or spirit, however great may have seemed your danger. Yet vile hands have been laid upon you, and this is the command of the Mother whom I serve, that, if you desire it, every one of those men who touched you shall die before your eyes. Say, is that your will?

Nay, answered Leo; they were mad and blind, let no blood be shed for us. All we ask of you, friend—but, how are you called?

Name me Oros, he answered.

Friend Oros—a good title for one who dwells upon the Mountain—all we ask is food and shelter, and to be led swiftly into the presence of her whom you name Mother, that Oracle whose wisdom we have travelled far to seek.

He bowed and answered: The food and shelter are prepared and to-morrow, when you have rested, I am commanded to conduct you whither you desire to be. Follow me, I pray you ; and he preceded us past the fiery pit to a building that stood about fifty yards away against the rock wall of the amphitheatre.