although they hunted long enough, even in the tombs, which
the Moslems, like our people, fear to visit. Doubtless she fell or threw
herself into some hole in the rocks; or perhaps the wild beasts ate her.
Better so than that a child of the old Pharaohs should become the woman
of an infidel."

"Yes," I answered, "better so. But why do folk fear to visit those tombs
of which you speak, Palka?"

"Why? Because they are haunted, that is all, and even the bravest dread
the sight of a ghost. How could they be otherwise than haunted, seeing
that yonder valley is sown with the mighty dead like a field with corn?"

"Yet the dead sleep quietly enough, Palka."

"Aye, the common dead, Hodur; but not these kings and queens and
princes, who, being gods of a kind, cannot die. It is said that they
hold their revels yonder at night with songs and wild laughter, and that
those who look upon them come to an evil end within a year. Whether this
be so I cannot say, since for many years none have dared to visit that
place at night. Yet that they eat I know well enough."

"How do you know, Palka?"

"For a good reason. With the others in this village I supply the
offerings of their food. The story runs that once the great building, of
which this house is a part, was a college of heathen priests whose
duty it was to make offerings to the dead in the royal tombs. When the
Christians came, those priests were driven away, but we of Kurna who
live in their house still make the offerings. If we did not, misfortune
would overtake us, as indeed has always happened if they were forgotten
or neglected. It is the rent that we pay to the ghosts of the kings.
Twice a week we pay it, setting food and milk and water upon a certain
stone near to the mouth of the valley."

"Then what happens, Palka?"

"Nothing, except that the offering is taken."

"By beggar folk, or perchance by wild creatures!"

"Would beggar folk dare to enter that place of death?" she answered with
contempt. "Or would wild beasts take the food and pile the dishes neatly
together and replace the flat stones on the mouths of the jars of milk
and water, as a housewife might? Oh! do not laugh. Of late this has
always been done, as I who often fetch the vessels know well."

"Have you ever seen these ghosts, Palka?"

"Yes, once I saw one of them. It was about two months ago that I passed
the mouth of the valley after moonrise, for I had been kept out late
searching for a kid which