boo's legs were none too long.

"Where are you going?" said the boy at last, after he had begun to feel
more at home with the turtle.

"Going? Where should you think I would want to go after my century in
prison? Why, back to the first home of my father, back to the very spot
where the great god, P'anku, and his three helpers hewed out the world."

"And is it far?" faltered the boy, beginning to feel just the least bit
tired.

"At this rate, yes, but, bless my life, you didn't think we could travel
all the way at this snail's pace, I hope. Jump on my back, and I'll show
you how to go. Before morning we shall be at the end of the world, or
rather, the beginning."

"Where is the beginning of the world?" asked Bamboo. "I have never
studied geography."

"We must cross China, then Thibet, and at last in the mountains just
beyond we shall reach the spot which P'anku made the centre of his
labour."

At that moment Bamboo felt himself being lifted from the ground. At
first he thought he would slip off the turtle's rounded shell, and he
cried out in fright.

"Never fear," said his friend. "Only sit quietly, and there will be no
danger."

They had now risen far into the air, and Bamboo could look down over the
great forest of Hsi Ling all bathed in moonlight. There were the broad
white roads leading up to the royal tombs, the beautiful temples, the
buildings where oxen and sheep were prepared for sacrifice, the lofty
towers, and the high tree-covered hills under which the emperors were
buried. Until that night Bamboo had not known the size of this royal
graveyard. Could it be that the turtle would carry him beyond the
forest? Even as he asked himself this question he saw that they had
reached a mountain, and the turtle was ascending higher, still higher,
to cross the mighty wall of stone.

Bamboo grew dizzy as the turtle rose farther into the sky. He felt as he
sometimes did when he played whirling games with his little friends, and
got so dizzy that he tumbled over upon the ground. However, this time
he knew that he must keep his head and not fall, for it must have been
almost a mile to the ground below him. At last they had passed over the
mountain and were flying above a great plain. Far below Bamboo could see
sleeping villages and little streams of water that looked like silver
in the moonlight. Now, directly beneath them was a city. A few feeble
lights could be seen in the dark narrow streets, and Bamboo thought