easons for the wonderful tone they
say it sounds. They believe that the souls of all the dead limocons
live on in it forever and that when it is sounded they all burst forth
in song."
The sun exhausted its last white rays and sank below the low hills
beneath them. Terry moved forward into the narrow trail and indicated
to the Major that he should follow. They ascended slowly, the shelf
narrowing so that by the time they had mounted twice about the base of
the crag they were forced to advance by careful side steps, their
backs against the cliff. Terry stopped at the fourth spiral, his hands
gripping the jagged projections, his back tight against the cliff, and
when the Major reached his side he nodded significantly toward the
horizon.
The Major slowly withdrew his eyes from the dizzying abruptness of the
fall beneath them, and followed Terry's rapt gaze. The great panorama
of the Gulf lay unfolded beneath their aerie.
The sun, glowing pink against the crag, cast its huge shadow over the
now tiny huts beneath them. Dusk was already falling over the great
sloping forest that stretched from beneath their feet far into the
Mindanao fastnesses and ended in a dim horizon where pink-blue of sky
melted into the misted billows of distant hills. Far southward the
Celebes was faintly outlined, a frosted mirror framed by primeval
verdure, and to the east the slopes extended down mile upon mile,
flattened, then leveled to edge the great sweep of the gulf.
They stood tight against the clear crest while the swift shadows
gathered the Gulf into its fold. The little valleys faded, and
blackened, and the lower hills disappeared. The gulf narrowed,
shortened, and dissolved into the night. The dark crept swiftly up the
slopes as if envious of the ruby crown set on Apo's forehead by the
abdicating sun.
A steady wind, cool and fragrant with the odorous pines, streamed
against them, forced their bodies hard against the crag. The Major,
enraptured of the vast grandeur, voiced his exaltation.
"Jiminy!" he said. "The top of the world! An empire!--an empire of
hemp! And our flag covers it all!"
Receiving no answer, he carefully pivoted his head so as to face
Terry, and was humbled by what he saw. Terry's face, white in the fast
fading light, was exalted, glowed like that of an esthetic of the
Middle Ages, his eyes shone with a vision wider than that disclosed
from the mountain top.
"Terry, what do you see--in all this?" the Majo
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