The time is not yet.' "'Then there is no hope ?' cried the hunter.
"'There is this,' said Wisdom: 'Some men have climbed on those mountains; circle above circle of bare rock they have scaled; and, wandering there, in those high regions, some have chanced to pick up on the ground one white silver feather, dropped from the wing of Truth.

And it shall come to pass,' said the old man, raising himself prophetically and pointing with his finger to the sky, 'it shall come to pass, that when enough of those silver feathers shall have been gathered by the hands of men, and shall have been woven into a cord, and the cord into a net, that in that net Truth may be captured.

Nothing but Truth can hold Truth.' "The hunter arose.

'I will go,' he said.
"But wisdom detained him.
"'Mark you well--who leaves these valleys never returns to them.

Though he should weep tears of blood seven days and nights upon the confines, he can never put his foot across them.