He shook his head.

“I’ve only read one myself,” went on the poet, with a chuckle; “so you needn’t feel a fool. It was by that man who went to Tibet. But in it he mentions Mukalog, the god of rain.”

“The god of rain?” responded Wolf, beginning to feel reassured.

“That’s what the man says,” continued the other. “Of course, we know what these travellers are; but he had a lot of letters after his name, so I suppose he passed some examination.” Jason put his hand in front of his mouth as he said this; and his face was wrinkled with amusement. “He knows Latin, anyway. He brings it in on the first page,” he added.

“It sounds like a real idol⁠ ⁠… Mukalog, the god of rain⁠ ⁠…” murmured Wolf.