“Shake off thy terror; look out on the plains beneath; seest thou not the sun smiling on the forests?—hearest thou not the cries of the wild animals? Let us away and hunt, and forget this horror; see, all nature smiles, and mocks at the curse.” But that other answered in a melancholy voice— “Compared with mine, thy sight is dim, and thine ears are dull; but seest thou not that black cloud arising?—hearest thou not the gathering storm?” But Philetos answered—“Truly there is a cloud, but we shall hunt the more pleasantly; and what is rain in its season?” “Speak no more,” answered his friend; “but if thou canst not read the meaning of the storm, look over the abyss and tell me what thou seest in the poisonous lake.” Philetos darted to the edge of the abyss and recoiled in horror. “I see,” he said, “a huge monster with gaping jaws, rearing his snaky folds out from the mire; and its eyes are like the eyes of men that hate, and it hisses death and misery. Let us flee—let us flee!” “Alas!” replied the Egyptian, “thou hast clasped my hand, and thou too must die, and suffer torment with me; say thou dost not hate me—say thou wilt not curse me when we two shall be deep in horror.” Philetos looked once more on the monster, which had now reared its slimy head above the precipice, and he read his doom in its vengeful eyes. But he quailed not, but pressing the hand of his friend, cried— “Fear not thou! What if we must be in torment for a thousand thousand years, shall we not ever after receive homage from thousands of men whom we have saved from death?—will not the shades after these few years pay us homage?—and shall we not again and for ever hunt together and live life in life?” Then murmured the Egyptian—“If I am ever with thee, even such misery were bliss; yet let us not die by this loathsome monster.” So saying, he clasped Philetos, and turned the key of the gate of life! Then with a shout of triumph they hurled themselves into the abyss, and were lost in the depth of the poisonous lake. Then arose a mighty storm, and the day was changed to night, and the temple rocked to its foundations. The haters of men fell to the earth, and with deep curses gasped out their breath. And the storm increased, and the earth trembled, till, with a shriek of despair, all the structure was buried beneath the waters. THE END. PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. ○ Unbalanced quotation marks were left as the author intended. ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Thoth, by Joseph Shield Nicholson