" It was a large garden, several acres of it, lying on a
shelf, as it were, of the mountain and watered by a stream. Maize grew
in it, also other sorts of corn, while all round was a thick belt of
plantain trees. Of course these crops had formed the food of the god
who, whenever it was hungry, came to this place and helped itself, as
we could see by many signs. The garden was well kept and comparatively
free from weeds. At first we wondered how this could be, till I
remembered that the Kalubi, or someone, had told me that it was tended
by the servants of the Mother of the Flower, who were generally
albinos or mutes.
We crossed it and pushed on rapidly up the mountain, once more
following an easy and well-beaten path, for now we saw that we were
approaching what we thought must be the edge of a crater. Indeed, our
excitement was so extreme that we did not speak, only scrambled
forward, Brother John, notwithstanding his lame leg, leading at a
greater pace than we could equal. He was the first to reach our goal,
closely followed by Stephen.
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