he wild birds sprang up in affright as the fire
leapt from reed huts given by foemen's hands to flame and pillage. They
stole and rent and murdered, dashing out the brains of children with
axes of stone. And, though no voice told me, I knew that I saw man as
he was tens of thousands of years ago, when first he marched across the
earth.

Yet another picture. Again I beheld the banks of Sihor; but on them fair
cities bloomed like flowers. In and out their gates went men and women,
passing to and fro from wide, well-tilled lands. But I saw no guards or
armies, and no weapons of war. All was wisdom, prosperity, and peace.
And while I wondered, a glorious Figure, clad in raiment that shone
as flame, came from the gates of a shrine, and the sound of music went
before and followed after him. He mounted an ivory throne which was set
in a market-place facing the water: and as the sun sank called in
all the multitudes to prayer. With one voice they prayed, bending in
adoration. And I understood that herein was shown the reign of the Gods
on earth, which was long before the days of Menes.

A change came over the dream. Still the same fair city, but other
men--men with greed and evil on their faces--who hated the bonds of
righteous doing, and set their hearts on sin. The evening came; the
glorious Figure mounted the throne and called to prayer, but none bowed
themselves in adoration.

"We are aweary of thee!" they cried. "Make Evil King! Slay him! slay
him! and loose the bonds of Evil! Make Evil King!"

The glorious Shape rose up, gazing with mild eyes upon those wicked men.

"Ye know not what ye ask," he cried; "but as ye will, so be it! For if
I die, by me, after much travail, shall ye once again find a path to the
Kingdom of Good!"

Even as he spoke, a Form, foul and hideous to behold, leapt upon him,
cursing, slew him, tore him limb from limb, and amidst the clamour of
the people sat himself upon the throne and ruled. But a Shape whose
face was veiled passed down from heaven on shadowy wings, and with
lamentations gathered up the rent fragments of the Being. A moment she
bent herself upon them, then lifted up her hands and wept. And as she
wept, behold! from her side there sprang a warrior armed and with a
face like the face of Ra at noon. He, the Avenger, hurled himself with
a shout upon the Monster who had usurped the throne, and they closed in
battle, and, struggling ever in a strait embrace, passed upward to the
skie