While I wondered over this, we kept on in the way. There
was already quite a throng of people all going in the same
direction. And when we came to the Source, which flowed from
an opening in a cliff, almost like a chamber hewn in the rock,
and made a little garden of wild-flowers around it as it fell,
I heard the music of many voices and the beautiful name of him
who had given his life to find the forgotten spring.

Then we came down again, singly and in groups, following
the river. It seemed already more bright
and full and joyous. As we passed through the gardens I saw
men turning aside to make new channels through fields which
were not yet cultivated. And as we entered the city I saw the
wheels of the mills that ground the corn whirling more
swiftly, and the maidens coming with their pitchers to draw
from the brimming basins at the street corners, and the
children laughing because the marble pools were so full that
they could swim in them. There was plenty of water
everywhere.

For many weeks I stayed in the city of Saloma, going up
the mountain-path in the morning, and returning to the day of
work and the evening of play. I found friends among the
people of the city, not only among those who walked together
in the visitation of the Source, but also among those who
remained behind, for many of them were kind and generous,
faithful in their work, and very pleasant in their
conversation.