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Updated: May 6, 2025
At last there came the day when the rising sun vanquished the sullen mists that had so persistently hugged the earth and all the world breathed in the glad fragrance of the morning and revelled in the light and warmth; and gave thanks for its deliverance from the clutches of Siluk, the Storm-God.
With the coming of night, Siluk, the Storm-God, laid a heavy hand upon the cowering jungle. Now, the coming of night in the Upper Amazon is in itself an awe-inspiring event; but coupled with the furious onslaught of Siluk, the Storm-God, it is terrible.
The more knowing animals heeded the warning so plainly written in the mutilated bodies of their brethren; in the snarls of rage and in the screams of terror of the doomed victims; and in the roars of triumph that followed each notable kill. To them, all these signs were superfluous, for had they not witnessed the coming of Siluk, the Storm-God, and had they not known of the thing that portended?
May none of you ever come under the spell of this vile spirit." The tale was interrupted at this time. A shadow flashed past them on the sand. "See, see," Oomah shouted, jumping to his feet. He pointed to a black bird, a vulture, that was circling over their heads. "The omen never fails. Siluk is coming; he is upon us. Look! look!" He was now pointing to the fleeting shadow on the sand.
A sighing breeze sifted its way through the whimpering leaves; again the deadly calm; then a dull roar, distant at first, but gaining in volume with each passing heartbeat. With a crash that rent the tallest ceiba from the topmost branches to the buttressed roots, Siluk arrived.
The approach of Siluk, the Storm-God, brought terror not only to the animals of the boundless wilderness. Besides the creatures that lived in the treetops, in the air, on the floor of the forest and under the rubbish that littered the ground were other living beings, no less wild, no less savage than the ones that shared their jungle homes.
For, with this coming of Siluk, began the dismal season of seemingly unending rains when the waters of the lowlands reached their flood stage and drove into the higher, forested country that crafty, merciless terror from which few were safe and which was held in awe and dreaded by even the strongest among them.
Siluk, the Storm-God, had plunged a knife into the heart of the heavens; no wonder the skies wept for months and months while the earth, wrapped in a dark pall of clinging mists also mourned, with streams and rivulets, like gushing tears, cutting deep furrows into its face. Warruk knew nothing of all this.
But Siluk, the Storm-God was different an intangible, elusive something he did not understand, could not subdue. And the terror that Siluk brought was even worse, for it stalked boldly in the night and slew without warning or mercy. And so the mighty serpent was contented merely to remain in the damp, evil-smelling burrow under the decaying vegetation to wait and to watch.
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