w, now verdant. Questionless, Keevi himself would have
vouched for the truth of the miracle, had he not been unfortunately
dumb. But by far the most cogent, and pointed argument advanced in
support of this story, is a spear which the priests of Keevi brought
forth, for Babbalanja to view.

"Let me look at it closer," said Babbalanja.

And turning it over and over and curiously inspecting it, "Wonderful
spear," he cried. "Doubtless, my reverends, this self-same spear must
have persuaded many recusants!"

"Nay, the most stubborn," they answered.

"And all afterward quoted as additional authority for the truth of
the legend?"

"Assuredly."

From the sea to the shrine of this god, the fine valley of Monlova
ascends with a gentle gradation, hardly perceptible; but upon turning
round toward the water, one is surprised to find himself high
elevated above its surface. Pass on, and the same silent ascent
deceives you; and the valley contracts; and on both sides the cliffs
advance; till at last you come to a narrow space, shouldered by
buttresses of rock. Beyond, through this cleft, all is blue sky. If
the Trades blow high, and you came unawares upon the spot, you would
think Keevi himself pushing you forward with all his hands; so
powerful is the current of air rushing through this elevated defile.
But expostulate not with the tornado that blows you along; sail on;
but soft; look down; the land breaks off in one sheer descent of a
thousand feet, right down to the wide plain below. So sudden and
profound this precipice, that you seem to look off from one world to
another. In a dreamy, sunny day, the spangled plain beneath assumes
an uncertain fleeting aspect. Had you a deep-sea-lead you would
almost be tempted to sound the ocean-haze at your feet.

This, mortal! is the precipice of Mondo.

From this brink, spear in hand, sprang fifty rebel warriors, driven
back into the vale by a superior force. Finding no spot to stand at
bay, with a fierce shout they took the fatal leap.

Said Mohi, "Their souls ascended, ere their bodies touched."

This tragical event took place many generations gone by, and now a
dizzy, devious way conducts one, firm of foot, from the verge to the
plain. But none ever ascended. So perilous, indeed, is the descent
itself, that the islanders venture not the feat, without invoking
supernatural aid. Flanking the precipice beneath beetling rocks,
stand the guardian deities of Mondo; and on altars befo