My presence alone has scattered their sacred festival--The Sundes Kool Piknik.

I strike terror to their inmost souls, and am more feared by them than even Kreep-mows, the insidious! And yet, behold! I have taken the place of the mothers of men, and I have nourished the mighty ones of the earth! But that," said the Moo Kow, turning her head aside bashfully, "that is Anudder Story." A dead silence fell on the pool.
"And I," said Miaow, lifting up her voice, "I am the horror and haunter of the night season.

When I pass like the night wind over the roofs of the houses men shudder in their beds and tremble.

When they hear my voice as I creep stealthily along their balconies they cry to their gods for succor.

They arise, and from their windows they offer me their priceless household treasures--the sacred vessels dedicated to their great god Shiv--which they call 'Shivin Mugs'-- the Kloes Brosh, the Boo-jak, urging me to fly them! And yet," said Miaow mournfully, "it is but my love-song! Think ye what they would do if I were on the war-path." Another dead silence fell on the pool.