"While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother's
death followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land.
I therefore made up my mind to travel into my mother's country,
where, as she had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary.

"One hot morning I came to Shaping's Causeway. It is so called
either because Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous
character. It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which
links the mountains bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest.
The valley lies below at a depth varying from eight to ten thousand
feet--a terrible precipice on either side. The knife edge of the
ridge is generally not much over a foot wide. The causeway goes due
north and south. The valley on my right hand was plunged in shadow--
that on my left was sparkling with sunlight and dew. I walked
fearfully along this precarious path for some miles. Far to the east
the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, connecting the two chains
of mountains, but overtopping even the most towering pinnacles. This
is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but I have heard two
curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is that they
have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to
travelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples
with whom they reside.

"Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while,
clutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at
the ground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I
felt like a different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway
across I saw someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear
into my heart again, for I did not see how we could very well pass.
However, I went slowly on, and presently we drew near enough together