_Ataht!_ And all this time K‘yäk´lu, the all-hearing and wise of
speech, all alone had been journeying afar in the north land of cold
and white desolateness. Lost was he, for lo! all the world he wandered
in now was disguised in the snow that lies spread forth there forever.
Cold was he--so cold that his face became wan, and white from the
frozen mists of his own breathing withal, white as become all creatures
who bide there. So cold at night and dreary of heart was he, so lost
by day and blinded by light was he, that he wept, continually wept
and cried aloud until the tears coursing down his cheeks stained them
with falling lines along the wrinkles thereof (as may be seen on his
face to this day when in due season he reappears), and he died of
heart and thence became transformed (_í‘hlimnakna_) lastingly as are
the gods. Yea, and his lips became splayed with continual calling,
and his voice grew shrill and dry-sounding, like to the voices of
far-flying water-fowl. As he cried, wandering all blindly hither and
thither, these, water-birds, hearing, flocked around him in numbers and
curiously peered at him, turning their heads from side to side and ever
approaching nearer, all the while calling one to another.
Behold! when he heard them calling, their meanings were plain to him,
wise as he was of all speeches! Yet still he lamented aloud, for none
told him the way to his country and people.