Part 4 (2/2)

People seldom went that way; the road was steep, and there was an easier way down at the other side, his mother said.

Once Hansei asked her if those who had pa.s.sed were all the people there were besides themselves. His mother said, ”There are others off there,”

pointing to the city.

Every morning before it was light Hansei's mother went away to the other side of the hills somewhere.

The first time he awoke and found the black loaf and water waiting and his mother gone, he had cried and searched and called her over and over.

”Mother! Mother!” he had cried as loud as he could call down the yellow road.

”Mother! Mother!” had come a strange voice from beyond the hills; and Hansei's heart had leaped with a new joy. He cried back wildly, ”Where are you?”

”Where are you?” cried the voice again.

”I am here!”

”I am here!”

”Come to me!”

”Come to me!”

All day Hansei and the strange voice from beyond the hills called and cried to each other. Hansei thought: ”It is true there are others off there, and some one is calling to me.”

At night the mother came back. Hansei asked: ”Where have you been?” and put up his arms. His mother said: ”At the other side of the hill,” and touched his head gently.

”What did you do so long?”

”I made lace.”

”What is lace?”

”It is like that a little,” and she pointed to a cobweb stretching from a dead twig to a weed. Hansei looked and slowly put his foot through it.

”Must you go tomorrow and next day?” he asked.

”Next day and always,” said the mother, looking off down the yellow road.

Hansei cried: ”Let me go too; let me go!”

”Hush, no; it is dark where I go.”

”Is there no sun at the other side of the hill?”

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