LITERATURE. 



which has not been filled with compassion and sorrow. " What are you?" said I to the 

 sobbing peaids of the immense waves, and diamond-like they rolled to my heart, and beating, 

 against its core, they said, 'We are the tears of Kari, the tears that she shed in her desolation 

 when she had lost her son for ever ; we are worlds, we are countless, we roll and surge and run, 

 we want War, because Kari is no more, because she has vanished in tears, because we are 

 Kari's life, and thou shalt come with us if thou wilt.' .... I followed them, we 

 searched for thee, and I grew sadder day by day because our search was vain. We went 

 on, rolling and rolling for ever so long, expecting every instant that we should meet thee, 

 and the abyss was so lifeless, and the thought that thou mightest be lost for ever was eating 

 away the cherished hope of my heart . . . To live without thy love ! Oh, God, is it to 

 live at all, or to have died, or to be cursed with all the pangs of anguish and despair? " 



War stood motionless, his eyes, brighter than ever, always fixed on the sweet face of 

 Atah . . . He was pale, and his lips trembled as though he were muttering words of 

 great pith and moment, but he uttered not one, and was deaf to the tumult and fracas which 

 the sudden stoppage of his flight had caused among his followers, who were rushing one 

 on top of the other, and forming a huge barrier, becoming every moment larger and larger. 

 . . . At last he looked round, made a sign to the nearest of his followers, and saying to 

 them, " Follow me, let us make haste," he took Atah in his arms, and on they went, followed 

 by the multitude of asters, who, now that their course was no longer impeded, rolled down 

 with the tremor of a rush more formidable and appalling than anything ever heard in the 

 universe. 



Exhausted by her long flight in search of War, worn out with fatigue and emotion, Atah 

 had no sooner been taken into his arms than she lost consciousness, but in her sleep, as her 

 head rested on his chest, she saw the heart of War rent by dolour, and pouring out an impetuous 

 stream of blood, like a river, and she felt as if she had caused that ocean of sorrow to burst 

 forth. She felt that she was going down in it, first her feet, then her ankles, then her knees, 

 her hips, and as she sank deeper and deeper the heat became more and more intense ; when 

 it touched her breast she had a terrible pang, and when her neck was reached she suffered 

 all the agonies of strangulation, her temples throbbed as though they must burst at the next 

 pulsation, and she heard repeated over and over again at each beat " Kari ! Mother ! Kari ! 

 Mother! ..." and strange . . . the voice was sweet in contrast with the roaring 

 noise which filled her head. At last she felt that the blood had touched her pale lips which 

 became paler ami that she had sunk, and in trying to rise again to the surface of the stifling 

 blood she opened her eyes and found herself in the arms of War, resting on his breast, but the 

 vision w-as only too true, the chest of War was all torn ami covered with streams of blood. 



" Atah," said War, bending over her, " Where hast thou left the river of tears? " 



" Yonder," said Atah, pointing with her white arm. 



" Where? " cpioth War. 



" Down there at the horizon, where it crosses thy course." 



" We shall soon be there," said War, and turning to his followers he ordered them to 

 slacken their speed and to be ready to stop. 



When arrived there, balancing swiftly on their axes, all the worlds were held entranced 

 ui the suspense of ecstasy before the marvels of that river of pearls, the extent and depth 

 of which could not be even dreamed of, rolling in its waves all kinds of magic colours and 

 hues, which had never been seen before, and reflecting from the depth of its bed to the little 

 drops of its ebb, all the fascinating sweet and eternal brilliancy of light. 



War stood motionless and sad ; he had rested Atah on the border of the river, where the 

 little waves having recognised her, tried, but in vain, to attract her attention; she was 

 absorbed in the contemplation of War, and for her nothing else existed, and War was sad. 

 He was looking at the eddies of the river flowing ; following the bubbles rising, disappearing, 

 shining, turning back to glance at him, and throwing to his heart the sparkles of their bright 

 eyes; at times he thought that in their sweet iiuiniuir they were singing. 



