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and rejoiced in his moment — “B-z-z-z-z-z-za>”.
And louder — till Anee-mee-ki was awaked; not the Master, but he of the Wings and the Thunder.
“What stifles the Chaska-land? What murders the Middle-folk? The big bronze Over-bowl, — the lid of the Evil One, — killing the air, killing the rain.”
And he flew down on it like a Nighthawk, stooping and booming — flew so it rumbled beneath him.
But it moved not.
Then he struck with his mountain-splitter, so it rumbled and rang; and again, so it split.
And the Evil One rushed hot-breathed to attack him.
Bang! thunder! he smote on the Death-bowl — so it crashed, but the red arrows flamed and rebounded. ..text pokračuje
