{"id":"01KG8AKKX5PNFH0HRXGT3YX2BM","cid":"bafkreicecmmf2xw32pgeb7ghtedyvvb5g5ff57dhffazo2mo7cjmjchome","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":721,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.927Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":627,"text":"hollow cheeks, and hollow eyes. Wistfully he eyed the offerings; but\r\nretreated; knowing it was sacrilege to touch them. There, they must\r\ndecay, in honor of the god Ananna; for so this dead tree was\r\ndenominated by Mohi.\r\n\r\nNow, as we were thus strolling about the Morai, the old chronicler\r\nelucidating its mysteries, we suddenly spied Pani and the pilgrims\r\napproaching the image of Doleema; his child leading the guide.\r\n\r\n“This,” began Pani, pointing to the idol of stone, “is the holy god\r\nAnanna who lives in the sap of this green and flourishing tree.”\r\n\r\n“Thou meanest not, surely, this stone image we behold?” said Divino.\r\n\r\n“I mean the tree,” said the guide. “It is no stone image.”\r\n\r\n“Strange,” muttered the chief; “were it not a guide that spoke, I would\r\ndeny it. As it is, I hold my peace.”\r\n\r\n“Mystery of mysteries!” cried the blind old pilgrim; “is it, then, a\r\nstone image that Pani calls a tree? Oh, Oro, that I had eyes to see,\r\nthat I might verily behold it, and then believe it to be what it is\r\nnot; that so I might prove the largeness of my faith; and so merit the\r\nblessing of Alma.”\r\n\r\n“Thrice sacred Ananna,” murmured the sad-eyed maiden, falling upon her\r\nknees before Doleema, “receive my adoration. Of thee, I know nothing,\r\nbut what the guide has spoken. I am but a poor, weak-minded maiden,\r\njudging not for myself, but leaning upon others that are wiser. These\r\nthings are above me. I am afraid to think. In Alma’s name, receive my\r\nhomage.”\r\n\r\nAnd she flung flowers before the god.\r\n\r\nBut Fauna, the hale matron, turning upon Pani, exclaimed, “Receive more\r\ngifts, oh guide.” And again she showered them upon him.\r\n\r\nUpon this, the willful boy who would not have Pani for his guide,\r\nentered the Morai; and perceiving the group before the image, walked\r\nrapidly to where they were. And beholding the idol, he regarded it\r\nattentively, and said:—“This must be the image of Doleema; but I am not\r\nsure.”\r\n\r\n“Nay,” cried the blind pilgrim, “it is the holy tree Ananna, thou\r\nwayward boy.”\r\n\r\n“A tree? whatever it may be, it is not that; thou art blind, old man.”\r\n\r\n“But though blind, I have that which thou lackest.”\r\n\r\nThen said Pani, turning upon the boy, “Depart from the holy Morai, and\r\ncorrupt not the hearts of these pilgrims. Depart, I say; and, in the\r\nsacred name of Alma, perish in thy endeavors to climb the Peak.”\r\n\r\n“I may perish there in truth,” said the boy, with sadness; “but it\r\nshall be in the path revealed to me in my dream. And think not, oh\r\nguide, that I perfectly rely upon gaining that lofty summit. I will\r\nclimb high Ofo with hope, not faith; Oh, mighty Oro, help me!”\r\n\r\n“Be not impious,” said Pani; “pronounce not Oro’s sacred name too\r\nlightly.”\r\n\r\n“Oro is but a sound,” said the boy. “They call the supreme god, Ati, in\r\nmy native isle; it is the soundless thought of him, oh guide, that is\r\nin me.”\r\n\r\n“Hark to his rhapsodies! Hark, how he prates of mysteries, that not\r\neven Hivohitee can fathom.”\r\n\r\n“Nor he, nor thou, nor I, nor any; Oro, to all, is Oro the unknown.”\r\n\r\n“Why claim to know Oro, then, better than others?”\r\n\r\n“I am not so vain; and I have little to substitute for what I can not\r\nreceive. I but feel Oro in me, yet can not declare the thought.”\r\n\r\n“Proud boy! thy humility is a pretense; at heart, thou deemest thyself\r\nwiser than Mardi.”\r\n\r\n“Not near so wise. To believe is a haughty thing; my very doubts\r\nhumiliate me. I weep and doubt; all Mardi may be light; and I too\r\nsimple to discern.”\r\n\r\n“He is mad,” said the chief Divino; “never before heard I such words.”\r\n\r\n“They are thoughts,” muttered the guide.\r\n\r\n“Poor fool!” cried Fauna.\r\n\r\n“Lost youth!” sighed the maiden.\r\n\r\n“He is but a child,” said the beggar. These whims will soon depart;\r\nonce I was like him; but, praise be to Alma, in the hour of sickness I\r\nrepented, feeble old man that I am!”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJNK0SRQXJTP5TJ1QJQ4K","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKKX2ZDSV4DJN181FX22Q","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKKX2PVZCGBAVDZ5VG0R9","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:10.149Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:19.763Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}