“Will the spirit not answer?” whispered Lihoa impatiently.

“Wait.  The moon is not yet in the middle of the constellation,” answered Lohe.  Hardly had he uttered these words when from the cell came the sound of a gong, then a song in a high nasal tone, which was plainly heard, but being in a strange language was not understood by any of the listeners.

“The Spirit speaks to the priest,” said the credulous men, trembling with superstitious fear.  The secret song lasted for a minute perhaps, then from the depths of the cave came a flash of lightning and a loud peal of thunder.  Many of the Chinamen, half frightened out of their wits, fled screaming at the top of their lungs.  Again the gong sounded, and the priest came to the entrance of the cell with a smoking pan of incense in his hand.  So suddenly did he appear, that it seemed as if he had sprung out of the very rock on which they stood.  All gave a wild cry of terror, as with utter abhorrence they gazed, while a little deformed old man described figures in the air with his smoking pan, and said, shaking his great bald head: 

“What do you fear, O children of the Middle Kingdom?  Surely not my master, the terrible God that rides on the back of the Golden Fish, nor me, poor old Lihong.  For you and you alone I have just subjected myself to his terrible gaze.  Had you seen his burning eyes, your courage would have failed you.  He is angry because some of you do not hate enough those who serve the foreign God, his deadly enemy; yet he answered your questions, because many of you have heretofore brought to him your offerings.  Listen to the words of the Spirit which rides upon the back of the Golden Fish: 

      Gold, gold, gold,
  In distant fields so far away! 
  ’Tis his who comes to seek, I say;
  ’Tis his to take where’er he will,
  ’Tis his go where he will—­his still.

      Gold, gold, gold,
  In getting it three things beware! 
  In discord take no part or share;
  Beware the sea’s engulfing waves,
  And thirst which drives men to their graves.”

With open mouths the Chinamen listened to the mysterious words of the priest, and when he had finished his slyly contrived speech, they sat for a time in mute astonishment.  Finally Lohe spoke up: 

“To me the answer seems favorable.  The God confirms the idea of there being gold in a distant laud to the south, and says that we can get and keep possession of it, if we only take heed of three things—­discord, the sea, and thirst.  As to discord—­it lies within our power to avoid that; as to the sea—­we could be drowned quite as easily on our own coast as on a long journey to the south, if that is to be our fate; and as to thirst, who would not endure thirst for the sake of becoming ten times richer than the rich Natse?”