most wonderful sight. Above where we were sitting the river fell
in a tormented white cascade, crashing arid feathering into
spray-dust of diamonds. An eagle was flying above it with a
mighty spread of wings that seemed almost double-jointed in the
middle - they curved and flapped so wide and free. The fierce
head was outstretched with the rake of a plundering galley as he
swept down the wind, seeking his meat from God, and passed
majestic from our sight. The valley beneath us was littered with
enormous boulders spilt from the ancient hollows of the hills. It
must have been a great sight when the giants set them trundling
down in work or play! - I said this to Vanna, who was looking
down upon it with meditative eyes. She roused herself.

"Yes, this really is Giant-Land up here - everything is so huge.
And when they quarrel up in the heights - in Jotunheim - and the
black storms come down the valleys it is like colossal laughter
or clumsy boisterous anger. And the Frost giants are still at
work up there with their great axes of frost and rain. They fling
down the side of a mountain or make fresh ways for the rivers.
About sixty years ago - far above here - they tore down a
mountain side and damned up the mighty Indus, so that for months
he was a lake, shut back in the hills. But the river giants are
no less strong up here in the heights of the world, and lie lay
brooding and hiding his time. And then one awful day he tore the
barrier down and roared down the valley carrying death and ruin
with him, and swept away a whole Sikh army among other
unconsidered trifles. That must have been a soul-shaking sight."

She spoke on, and as she spoke I saw. What are her words as I
record them? Stray dead leaves pressed in a book - the life and