III

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III

That very day we laded our camels, and before sunset had left the horrible town.

We had much time on the way to think on what had happened to us at the menagerie of the Great Emperor. But the phenomenon entirely baffled us.

It was not necessary to think that it portented evil and frightful misfortune, nor could we take it as a sign of blessing. Do we ever hear of the most powerful one appearing with the single object of being a sign to man? No, when even in the most ancient traditions, true, it has been handed down that the dweller on the other side of the river Mairure showed himself as a sign of impending calamity or blessing, or that he came to prophesy at all⁠—he always came roaring threateningly, and took the one of us on whom his choice fell.

For a long time we wandered through the desert saying not a word to one another. I knew by my brother’s gloomy silence that he also thought on what had happened. At last, when we were but three days’ journey from home, he broke silence, saying, “Whilst we lay on the ground and the people laughed at us, and I lifted my head, I saw the open jaws of the beast. There could be no mistake, the roaring proceeded from one of the caught beasts that were shut in the cages.”

And I said to my brother Sin:

“Of such bodeful appearances it is better to be silent. So our forefathers enjoined. There is much in the world that is inexplicable, and even if it is possible to consider it familiarly and without fear, we ought always to hold ourselves humbly and reverently toward it.”

Sin was a long time without words, but towards sunset he broke silence, saying: “It was the same roaring which we heard outside our village when he came for a victim. He to whom we prostrate ourselves with such humility and who has devoured countless delicate girls and pretty children is a wild beast with green cat’s eyes, with yellow hide sown all over with black spots. And it is possible to catch him and put him in a cage.”

I was horrified, and forbade my brother Sin to speak such dishonouring words. But Sin was possessed of the spirit that eternally strives against the dweller on the other side of the river Mairure, and he turned upon me in rage and cried out:

“I saw that it was a wild beast. Why should we make any more sacrifices to him? Can we not also build a cage for him⁠—a worthy chamber⁠—and make him live peacefully there, so saving ourselves and our families from terror and death? I am not so mad as to think that we can live without him, but why not feed him on the flesh of sheep or bulls? Why should we weep for our children when he can make such an excellent repast on cattle?”

In vain I forbade my brother, in vain did I mercilessly beat him, his tongue continued to utter the same lying and dishonourable words.

And we returned home.