Haji al Queda should campaign her for ever the acre

[F. J. Loehr]

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--
this self same stone
coffin. One by one the lamas had looked at me. Then they
had put the lid upon the stone coffin and extinguished the
sticks of incense. Solemnly they had departed up the stone
corridor, bearing their lights with them, while I lay quite
a little frightened in that stone tomb, frightened in spite
of all my training, frightened in spite of knowing what was
to happen. I had been long in the darkness, in the silence
of death. Silence? No, for my perceptions had been trained,
and were so acute that I could hear their breathing, sounds
of life diminishing as they went away. I could hear the
shuffling of their feet growing fainter and fainter, and then
darkness, silence, and stillness, and nothingness.

41

Death itself could not be worse than this, I thought.
Time crawled endlessly by as I lay there becoming colder
and colder. All of a sudden the world exploded as in a
golden flame, and I left the confines of the body, I left the
blackness of the stone tomb, and the underground chamber.
I forced my way through the earth, the icebound earth,
and into the cold pure air, and away far above the tower-
ing Himalayas, far out over the land and oceans, far away
to the ends of the earth with the speed of thought. I
wandered alone, ethereal, ghostlike in the astral, seeking
out the places and palaces of the Earth, gaining educa-