by two, still singing, and at length reached the summit,
where they arranged themselves in order. There were thirty of them and
they arranged themselves in three rows of ten each, and as they stood
they never ceased to sing, while the paupers below joined in the
strain.

And now the sun was almost hidden, and there was only the faintest
line from the upper edge of his disk perceptible over the icy
mountain-tops. The light was a softened twilight glow. It was to be
the last sight of the sun for six months, and this was the spectacle
upon which he threw his parting beam. So the sun passed away, and then
there came the beginning of the long dark season. At first, however,
there was rather twilight than darkness, and this twilight continued
long. All this only served to heighten the effect of this striking
scene; and as the light faded away, I looked with increasing curiosity
upon the group at the top of the pyramid. Almah was silent. I half
turned, and said something to her about the beauty of the view. She
said nothing, but looked at me with such an expression that I was
filled with amazement. I saw in her face something like a dreadful
anticipation--something that spoke of coming evil. The feeling was
communicated to me, and I turned my eyes back to the group on the
pyramid with vague fears in my soul.

Those fears were but too well founded, for now the dread ceremony
began. The Kohen drew his knife, and placed himself at the head of the
stone table. One of the youths came forward, stepped upon it, and lay
down on his back with his head toward the Kohen. The mournful chant
still went on. Then the Kohen raised his knife and plunged it into the
heart of the youth. I sat for a moment rooted to the spot; then a
groan burst from me in spite of myself. Almah caught my hands in hers,
which were as cold as ice.

"Be firm," she said, "or we are both lost. Be firm, Atam-or!"

"I must go," said I, and I tried to rise.

"Don't move," she said, "for your life! We are lost if you move. Keep
still--restrain yourself--shut your eyes."

I tried to do so, but could not. There was a horrible fascination
about the scene which forced me to look and see all. The Kohen took
the victim, and drawing it from the altar, threw it over the precipice
to the ground beneath. Then a loud shout burst forth from the great
crowd. "Sibgu Sibgin! Ranenu! Hodu lecosck!" which means, "Sacrifice
the victims! Rejoice! Give thanks to darkness!"

Then an