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Updated: July 21, 2025


While strolling thus thinking on various matters, I had passed the stone bridge and come up to the levy of the Nozeri river. The word river sounds too big; it is a shallow stream of about six feet wide. If one goes on along the levy for about twelve blocks, he reaches the Aioi village where there is a temple of Kwanon.

The recent storm had probably delayed his envoys, and he must wait the Sabah's monthly visit, which would come the next day. At the door of his hut Kali Pandapatan was helped from the royal beast's back and up the steep ladder entrance into the cool dusk of the interior where industrious women squatted at their several tasks. "I miss the child's lively chatter," Aioi was saying sadly.

The wind slowly carried it from the town toward the Aioi village. Probably it would fall into the yard of Kwanon temple there. At the formal celebration this morning there were not quite so many as here now. It was surging mass that made me wonder how so many people lived in the place.

"She was a trying pupil, I can tell you," remarked the woman at the loom, "but a winning child." She leaned closer to Aioi and whispered: "Did you know that Papita had been asked in marriage?" The surprised look on Aioi's face made an answer unnecessary. "Our chief is said to have spurned the offer.

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