"A tree? whatever it may be, it is not that; thou art blind, old man."

"But though blind, I have that which thou lackest."

Then said Pani, turning upon the boy, "Depart from the holy Morai, and
corrupt not the hearts of these pilgrims. Depart, I say; and, in the
sacred name of Alma, perish in thy endeavors to climb the Peak."

"I may perish there in truth," said the boy, with sadness; "but it
shall be in the path revealed to me in my dream. And think not, oh
guide, that I perfectly rely upon gaining that lofty summit. I will
climb high Ofo with hope, not faith; Oh, mighty Oro, help me!"

"Be not impious," said Pani; "pronounce not Oro's sacred name too
lightly."

"Oro is but a sound," said the boy. "They call the supreme god, Ati,
in my native isle; it is the soundless thought of him, oh guide, that
is in me."

"Hark to his rhapsodies! Hark, how he prates of mysteries, that not
even Hivohitee can fathom."

"Nor he, nor thou, nor I, nor any; Oro, to all, is Oro the unknown."

"Why claim to know Oro, then, better than others?"

"I am not so vain; and I have little to substitute for what I can not
receive. I but feel Oro in me, yet can not declare the thought."