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The trip was over, but what a haggard few had beached the boats at the vast edge of space! The few surviving Brons were happy now. Those who had been Grim Hagen's slaves out of their loyalty to Maya were offered anything that they wished. However, it turned out that most of them wanted little except peace and rest.
We know that the life of a soul, which is finite in its expression and infinite in its principle, must go through the portals of death in its journey to realise the infinite. It is death which is monistic, it has no life in it. But life is dualistic; it has an appearance as well as truth; and death is that appearance, that maya, which is an inseparable companion to life.
I have had occasion again and again to note that collective interests are more considered by women; and individual interests by men. This, at least, is how I see it; and a study of the Indian maternal families seems to give confirmation to such a conclusion. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, p. 262, gives an account of these houses. A similar plan of living is reported of the Maya Indians.
If, on the other hand, Mâyâ is an evil or at least an imperfection, if it is like rust on a blade or dimness in a mirror, if, so to speak, the edges of Brahman are weak and break into fragments which are prevented by their own feebleness from realizing the unity of the whole, then the mind wonders uneasily if, in spite of all assurances to the contrary, this does not imply that Brahman is subject to some external law, to some even more mysterious Beyond.
I am doomed anyhow. So since death is certain one way or another, I may as well be proud and brave and do everything I can to try to save them." It was as though Maya had completely forgotten the long time that had passed since she left her home.
As they sat there, with the coals winking red eyes at them, Gunnar told his tale between wolfish bites. "Grim Hagen planned well." "He planned well, and even yet I hope to kill him. "That was an evil day when you and Maya decided to go back to outer-earth. An evil day. Some of Grim Hagen's men snared Maya with their thons. There was much fighting. We killed many but many got away.
Meanwhile, we fought our way out of the city. We decided to have one last try for Maya. But we found you two and a dead Bron and the head of a native. We brought you here and took off. All this time I have had a fix on Hagen." "Can't we overtake him?" Odin asked. "We are trying to. He seems to be heading for a huge dust-cloud. He also sent us a message.
Daimur lost no time in getting ready for his departure to the Island of Roses, and after bidding good-bye to the Old King and Prince Tasmir, who made him promise to come to his wedding with the Princess Maya, which was to take place shortly, he embarked again with his marines, accompanied by the Duchess of Rose Petals and the faithful Prince Redmond, who declared that he would not leave Daimur until he had finished his task.
Fridolin turned to hide his laughing, but little Maya replied politely that she quite agreed with him and that was why she had not gone out flying. Then she introduced herself. The stranger squinted down at her through his legs. "Maya, of the nation of bees," he repeated. "Delighted, really. I have heard a good deal about bees.
He lay sprawled, arms flung out limply, the knife hilt protruding upward. He sighed, and his breathing stopped. Goat stared down at him. He picked up Brute's wrist and held it. There was no pulse. Shortly after dawn, Maya awoke. Remembering what she had seen dimly the night before, she went curiously to the window. There were two of them now.
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