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HAPPILY lived Mankind in the peaceful Valley of Ignorance.
To the north, to the south, to the west and to the east stretched the ridges of the Hills Everlasting.
A little stream of Knowledge trickled slowly through a deep worn gully.
It came out of the Mountains of the Past.
It lost itself in the Mashes of the Future.
It was not much, as rivers go. But it was enough for the humble needs of the villagers.
In the evening, when they had watered their cattle and had filled their casks, they were content to sit down to enjoy life.[url=http://www.wlkgame.com:3v1rwquj]wow gold[/url],
The Old Men Who Knew were brought forth from the shady corners where they had spent their day, pondering over the mysterious pages of an old book.
They mumbled strange words to their grandchildren, who would have preferred to play with the pretty pebbles, brought down from distant lands.
Often these words were not very clear.
But they were written a thousand years ago by a forgotten race. Hence they were holy.
For in the Valley of Ignorance, whatever was old was venerable. And, those who dared to gainsay the wisdom of the fathers, were shunned by all decent people.
And so they kept their peace.
Fear was ever with them. What if they should be refused the common share of the products of the garden?
Vague stories there were, whispered at night among the narrow streets of the little town, vague stories of men and women who had dared to ask questions.
They had gone forth, and never again had they been seen.
A few had tried to scale the high walls of the rocky range that hid the sun.
Their whitened bones lay at the foot of the cliffs.
The years came and the years went by.
Happily lived Mankind in the peaceful Valley of Ignorance.
Out of the darkness crept a man.[url=http://www.wlkgame.com/wow-gold.html:3v1rwquj]wow gold[/url],
The nails of his hands were torn.
His feet were covered with rags, red with the blood of long marches.
He stumbled to the door of the nearest hut and knocked.
Then he fainted. By the light of a frightened candle, he was carried to a cot.
In the morning throughout the village it was known: "He has come back."
The neighbors stood around and shook their heads. They had always known that this was to be the end.
Defeat and surrender awaited those who dared to stroll away from the foot of the mountains.
And in one corner of the village the Old Men shook their heads and whispered burning words.
They did not mean to be cruel, but the Law was the Law. Bitterly this man had sinned against the wishes of Those Who Knew.
As soon as his wounds were healed he must be brought to trial.
They meant to be lenient.
They remembered the strange, burning eyes of his mother. They recalled the tragedy of his father, lost in the desert these thirty years ago.
The Law, however, was the Law; and the Law must be obeyed.
The Men Who Knew would see to that.
They carried the wanderer to the Market Place, and the people stood around in respectful silence.
He was still weak from hunger and thirst and the Elders bade him sit down.
As it was in the beginning—as it is now—and as some day(so we hope)it shall no longer be?
a ery nice poem |
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