ndita Hutuktu,
who had come from Agharti. As he was dying, he told about the time when
he lived according to the will of the Goro on a red star in the east,
floated in the ice-covered ocean and flew among the stormy fires in the
depths of the earth."

These are the tales which I heard in the Mongolian yurtas of Princes and
in the Lamaite monasteries. These stories were all related in a solemn
tone which forbade challenge and doubt.

Mystery. . . .

CHAPTER XLVII

THE KING OF THE WORLD BEFORE THE FACE OF GOD

During my stay in Urga I tried to find an explanation of this legend
about the King of the World. Of course, the Living Buddha could tell
me most of all and so I endeavored to get the story from him. In a
conversation with him I mentioned the name of the King of the World.
The old Pontiff sharply turned his head toward me and fixed upon me his
immobile, blind eyes. Unwillingly I became silent. Our silence was a
long one and after it the Pontiff continued the conversation in such
a way that I understood he did not wish to accept the suggestion of my
reference. On the faces of the others present I noticed expressions of
astonishment and fear produced by my words, and especially was this
true of the custodian of the library of the Bogdo Khan. One can readily
understand that all this only made me the more anxious to press the
pursuit.

As I was leaving the study of the Bogdo Hutuktu, I met the librarian
who had stepped out ahead of me and asked him if he would show me the
library of the Living Buddha and used a very simple, sly trick with him.

"Do you know, my dear Lama," I said, "once I rode in the plain at the
hour when the King of the World spoke with God and I felt the impressive
majesty of this moment."

To my astonishment the old Lama very quietly answered me: "It is not
right that the Buddhist and our Yellow Faith should conceal it. The
acknowledgment of the existence of the most holy and most powerful man,
of the blissful kingdom, of the great temple of sacred science is such
a consolation to our sinful hearts and our corrupt lives that to
conceal it from humankind is a sin. . . . Well, listen," he continued,
"throughout the whole year the King of the World guides the work of the
Panditas and Goros of Agharti. Only at times he goes to the temple cave
where the embalmed body of his predecessor lies in a black stone coffin.
This cave is always dark, but when the King of the World enters it
the wall