Then purple thistle, goldenrods and dandelions shook their heads vigorously in the refreshing breeze, and argued it out with the grasses and ice-plants lying flat on the ground, where only a muchly debased cactus bristled and threatened everything that ventured even to look at its forbidden fruit. The day was well nigh spent when Akaza approached the camp near the mouth of the Indian Canyon. Yermah and Kerœcia advanced to meet him, hand in hand, like happy children. Kerœcia did not wait for a formal presentation but came forward graciously. “Patriarch and hierophant,” she said, “this temple awaits thy ministration. The love and obedience of my people and myself are thine to command.” “Fair daughter of the gods, thou hast already a place in my heart, as I perceive thou hast in the affections of my comrades. Mayst thou ever be surrounded by a nimbus of joy and gladness.” As Akaza’s lips lightly brushed her glowing cheek, Yermah perceived that his vision was turned inward and that he prayed silently. Kerœcia turned toward her attendants, but with her own hands served Akaza curds and a gourd of goat’s milk. She also broke the thin corn cakes and arranged some fruit temptingly near him. Akaza opened an oblong comb of wild honey and laid the ripe figs around it. As he poured thick, yellow cream over them, he murmured: “As it was written! As it was written!” Concerned for him, Yermah touched him on the shoulder. “Is it not well?” he asked eagerly. When the elder man saw the glow of happiness on the questioning face, he involuntarily groaned; but he answered steadily: “From the beginning all things are ordered well.” * * * * * The evening shadows grew apace; but before darkness came on, Kerœcia prepared the pipes, which were to be lighted as an offering to fire. Igniting the first one, a fragile porcelain bowl with an amber mouthpiece, she first drew three puffs out of the pipe, and then emptied the ashes on a platter of beaten silver. Dexterously replenishing the tobacco and substituting an ivory mouthpiece, she passed it to Yermah. He followed her example, and replacing the ivory with tortoise-shell, handed the pipe to Akaza. The priestesses and the remainder of the company did likewise, always substituting one stick for another until all had smoked and each had a souvenir which was believed to bring good luck. The ashes were placed in the urn with the rose ashes collected from the ark—and the great Monbas festival was over. Kerœcia was not a Monbas. Her people were known to the Atlantians as Ians; to the Persians, they were Scythians; to the Medes, they were known as Suani; to the early Europeans, they were Visigoths, alternately feared and admired; while by later generations, they were called Circassians.