ent to be rich when they might be paupers; to
live together when they might be separate; to dwell in the light when
they might lurk in the deepest cavern gloom; to remain in life when
they might have the blessing of death. Selfishness, fear of death,
love of riches, and love of luxury, these were all unintelligible to
the Kosekin, as much as to us would be self-abnegation, contempt of
death, voluntary poverty, and asceticism. But as with us self-denying
rulers may make others rich and be popular for this, so here among the
Kosekin a selfish ruler might be popular by making others poor. Hence
the words of Almah, as they were made known, gave rise to the wildest
excitement and enthusiasm, and the vast multitude poured forth their
feelings in long shouts of rapturous applause.

Amid this the bodies of the dead were carried down from the pyramid,
and were taken to the Mista Kosek in a long and solemn procession,
accompanied by the singing of wild and dismal chants.

And now the sun, rolling along behind the icy mountain crest, rose
higher and higher every moment, and the bright light of a long day
began to illumine the world. There sparkled the sea, rising far away
like a watery wall, with the horizon high up in the sky; there rose
the circle of giant mountains, sweeping away till they were blended
with the horizon; there rose the terraces of the amir, all glowing
in the sunlight, with all its countless houses and cavern-openings and
arching trees and pointing pyramids. Above was the canopy of heaven,
no longer black, no longer studded with stars or glistening with
the fitful shimmer of the aurora, but all radiant with the glorious
sunlight, and disclosing all the splendors of the infinite blue. At
that sight a thrill of joy passed through me. The long, long night
at last was over; the darkness had passed away like some hideous
dream; the day was here--the long day that was to know no shadow
and no decline--when all this world should be illuminated by the
ever-circling sun--a sun that would never set until his long course
of many months should be fully run. My heart swelled with rapture,
my eyes filled with tears. "O Light!" I cried; "O gleaming, golden
Sunlight! O Light of Heaven!--light that brings life and hope to man!"
And I could have fallen on my knees and worshipped that rising sun.

But the light which was so glorious to us was painful and distressing
to the Kosekin. On the top of the pyramid the paupers crouched,