Standing before the gods he told them the
case of Ap Ariph and the wrongs of Meoul Ki Ning and the rape of the
lotus lily; he told of the cutting and making of Ap Ariph's bamboo
bow, of the shooting of Meoul Ki Ning, and of how the arrow hit him,
and the smile on the face of Lling when she came by the lotus bloom.
And the gods were wroth with Ap Ariph and swore to avenge Ki Ning.
And the ancient one of the gods, he that is older than Earth, called
up the thunder at once, and raised his arms and cried out on the gods'
high windy mountain, and prophesied on those rocks with runes that
were older than speech, and sang in his wrath old songs that he had
learned in storm from the sea, when only that peak of the gods in the
whole of the earth was dry; and he swore that Ap Ariph should die that
night, and the thunder raged about him, and the tears of Lling were
vain.
The lightning stroke of the gods leaping earthward seeking Ap Ariph
passed near to his house but missed him. A certain vagabond was down
from the hills, singing songs in the street near by the house of Ap
Ariph, songs of a former folk that dwelt once, they say, in those
valleys, and begging for rice and curds; it was him the lightning hit.
And the gods were satisfied, and their wrath abated, and their thunder
rolled away and the great black clouds dissolved, and the ancient one
of the gods went back to his age-old sleep, and morning came, and the
birds and the light shone on the mountain, and the peak stood clear to
see, the serene home of the gods.
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