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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:29:14 GMT -5
So Luis waved his sister a farewell and set off down the valley, following the condor that hovered in the air, now darting away and now returning. Luis knew that the great bird was leading him somewhere, and he followed, presently finding the river and following it until he reached the great place where the waters met.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:29:46 GMT -5
At the meeting of the waters he came to a house, a poor structure made of earth and stones snuggled in a warm fold of the hills. No one was there, but as the condor flew high and, circling in the air, became a small speck, Luis knew that he should stay for awhile and see what might befall. Pushing open the door he saw by the ashes in the fireplace that someone lived there, for there were red embers well covered to keep the fire alive. So he made himself useful, which was the way of that country, and brought fresh water from the spring. He gathered wood and piled it neatly by the fireside. Next he blew upon the embers and added twigs and sticks until a bright fire glowed.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:30:02 GMT -5
When the man of the house came into the room Luis never knew, but there he was, sitting by the fire on a stool and nodding his head. He offered Luis bread and yerba tea. After they had eaten and quenched their thirst the old man spoke, and this is what he said, "Wicked is the old witch of the Andes Mountains, and there is but one way to defeat her. What, lad, is the manner of her defeat? Tell me that."
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:30:44 GMT -5
Remembering what the condor had said, Luis repeated these words: "Fire will conquer frosted death." "True," said the old man, nodding. "And your sister is there. Now here comes our friend the condor, who sees far and knows much." Said the condor:
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:31:10 GMT -5
Now with cold grows faint her breath, Fire will conquer frosted death.
Having said that, the old man gave Luis a lighted branch.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:31:44 GMT -5
Off he sped with the blazing stick, running through marsh and swamp in a straight line. Andy, age 11 Soon Luis came to a shallow lagoon. Straight through the water he splashed, and the spray dashed up on either side. He held the stick high, but not high enough, for the splashing water quenched the fire. Luis sadly returned to the old man, dropping the wet stick at his feet.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:32:02 GMT -5
"Please give me a second stick, for my sister must be quivering with cold by now," said the boy. "This time I will run around the lake, and the water will not put out the fire."
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:32:30 GMT -5
"Yes," said the old man. Down again swooped the condor, who cried as before:
Now with cold grows faint her breath, Fire will conquer frosted death.
then flew away again toward the witch mountain.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:32:46 GMT -5
The old man gave Luis a second blazing stick and at once the brave lad set off. Over vega, across lagoon, and over snowclad hilltop he ran, pausing only to catch his breath. But -- alas! -- he dropped the lighted branch in the snow when he tried to get a better hold of it, and when he picked it up again it was but a charred, black thing. Luis was heartsick, and could do nothing but return to the house, bearing the blackened stick, and beg to be given a third chance.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:33:12 GMT -5
"Ah," said the old man. "Here comes the condor. We must hear his message." The condor wheeled low again, calling:
Fainter now grows the maiden's breath, Night must bring her frosted death.
and having said it, like an arrow he shot up again into the sky.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:33:40 GMT -5
A third time Luis took the burning stick by the end and, running around the lake, he made straight for the mountain. Joanne, age 9He gripped the stick so tightly that his fingers hurt, yet he would not let up, not even for a second, and continued racing, racing, like a deer. A flamingo, seeing him, spread her wings like sails and ran by his side. On her back Luis placed his free hand, and with that help he sped as fast as the flamingo. Luis held the flamingo tight and in the air the flamingo shot up like an arrow. The blazing fire burned her neck and breast until it became pink and red, but that she heeded not.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:34:10 GMT -5
Straight up the valley and to the rock where Natalia was bound went the flamingo and Luis. At once Luis dropped the blazing stick into a heap of dried moss by the rock. Up leaped the dancing flames, and with a tremendous noise the rock flew into a thousand pieces. The power of the old witch of the Andes Mountains was gone forever. As for Natalia, she was at once freed! With her gentle, cool hand, she stroked the breast of the flamingo so that her burns were healed, but as a sign of its bravery the bird has carried a crimson breast from that day to this.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:34:38 GMT -5
As for Natalia and Luis, they lived for many, many years in the green valley, and about them birds of many kinds played and lived and reared their young, and the magic ball of the witch lived only in memories that grew more and more distant every year that passed by.
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:35:09 GMT -5
Ode To My True Friend by Elizabeth Pinard
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Post by ---gush!--- on Jun 19, 2007 7:35:39 GMT -5
The day I met you I found a friend - And a friendship that I pray will never end.
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