survey of his stoneyard. At that moment his eyes fell on a block of
proper dimensions under the very shadow of the great cube upon which he
stood. It was in the path of the wind from the north and was buried
half its height in sand.

Kenkenes leaped from his point of vantage with a cry of delight.

"Nay, now," he exclaimed; "where in this is divine disfavor?" He
inspected his discovery, tried it for solidity of position and purity
of texture. Its location was particularly favorable to secrecy.

It stood at the lower end of an aisle between great rocks. All view of
it was cut off, save from that position taken by Kenkenes when he
discovered it. A wall built between it and the north would bar the
sand and form a nook, wholly closed on two sides and partly closed at
each end by stones. All this made itself plain to the mind of the
young sculptor at once. With a laugh of sheer content, he turned to
retrace his steps and began to sing.

Then was the harsh desolation of the hills startled, the immediate
echoes given unaccustomed sound to undulate in diminishing volume from
one to another. He sang absently, but his preoccupation did not make
his tones indifferent. For his voice was soft, full, organ-like,
flexible, easy with illimitable lung-power and ineffable grace. When
he ceased the silence fell, empty and barren, after that song's
unaudienced splendor.


[1] Set--the war-god.