shiped it.

Five more days passed. On the afternoon of the fifth day Kathlyn was
feeding the fire. The holy men sat in the court at their devotions,
which consisted in merely remaining motionless. Kathlyn returned from
the fire to see them rise and flee in terror. She in turn fled, for
the lion stood between her and the sarcophagus! The lion paused,
lashing his tail. The many recent commotions within and without the
temple had finally roused his ire. He hesitated between the holy men
and Kathlyn, and finally concluded that she in the fluttering robes
would be the most desirable.

There was no particular hurry; besides, he was not hungry. The cat in
him wanted to play. He loped after Kathlyn easily. At any time he
chose a few swift bounds would bring him to her side.

Beyond the temple lay the same stream by which, miles away, Kathlyn had
seen the funeral pyre and about which she had so weird a fantasy. If
this stream was deep there was a chance for life.

CHAPTER VII

QUICKSANDS

When Kathlyn came to the river she swerved toward the broadest part of
it. Twice she stumbled over boulders, but rose pluckily and, bruised
and breathless, plunged into the water. It was swift running and
shoulder deep, and she was forced to swim strongly to gain the opposite
shore. She dragged herself up to the bank and, once there, looked
back. What she saw rather astonished her. She could not solve the
riddle at first. The lion seemed to be struggling with some invisible
opponent. He stood knee deep in the sands, tugging and pulling. He
began to roar. Even as Kathlyn gazed she saw his chest touch the sand
and his swelling flanks sink lower. Fascinated, she could not withdraw
her gaze. How his mighty shoulders heaved and pulled! But down, down,
lower and lower, till nothing but the great maned head remained in
view. Then that was drawn down; the sand filled the animal's mouth and
stopped his roaring; lower, lower . . .

Quicksands! The spot where he had disappeared stirred and glistened
and shuddered, and then the eternal blankness of sand.

She was not, then, to die? Should she return to the temple? Would
they not demand of her the restoration of the lion? She must go on,
whither she knew not. She regretted the peace of the temple in the
daytime. She could see the dome from where she stood. Like Ishmael,
she must go on, forever and forever on. Was God watching over her?
Was it His hand which st