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TRIUMPH OVER VIOLENCE
It was a blistering hot day in the mid-summer month of Jeth, when a man with the unmistakable stamp of divinity on his face, was trudging along a path covered with sharp stones and thorns. His eyes shone with infinite kindness, his face was radiant as the moon, his lips were parted in a smile as soft as the dawn, his body glowed with the vigour of chastity.
A herdsman coming from the opposite direction, accosted him respectfully, "Master, why do you go this way? It is a lonely way where even beasts are afraid to go. There is a terrible King Cobra that waylays the wayfarers."
However, the great man went his way despite the warning. Passers-by remarked, "Could he be deaf? Is he possessed? Could he be out of his mind? Why doesn't he heed what we say?"
Some distance away there was an ant-hill. The land around it looked lonely and deserted; the very atmosphere of the place was charged with terror. The man halted and looked around.
The scent of a human being drew the terrible snake out of the ant-hill. Even as he darted out at lightning speed, he was amazed at the dauntlessness of the man who dared to stand at the very mouth of his dwelling!
Mad with rage, the cobra bit the man's foot,
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