A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder James De Mille

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with one common impulse came pressing on from every side toward the
pyramid, apparently filled with the one universal desire of reaching
me--a desire which was now all the more intense and vehement from
these interruptions which had taken place. Why they had fallen on
their knees, why the paupers on the pyramid were still prostrate, I
could not tell; but I saw now the swarming multitude, and I felt that
they were rolling in on every side--merciless, blood-thirsty,
implacable--to tear me to pieces. Yet time passed and they did not
reach me, for an obstacle was interposed. The pyramid had smooth
sides. The stairways that led up to the summit were narrow, and did
not admit of more than two at a time; yet, had the Kosekin been like
other people, the summit of the pyramid would soon have been swarming
with them; but as they were Kosekin, none came up to the top; for at
the base of the pyramid, at the bottom of the steps, I saw a strange
and incredible struggle. It was not, as with us, who should go up
first, but who should go up last; each tried to make his neighbor go
before him. All were eager to go, but the Kosekin self-denial,
self-sacrifice, and love for the good of others made each one
intensely desirous to make others go up. This resulted in a furious
struggle, in which, as fast as anyone would be pushed up the steps a
little way, he would jump down again and turn his efforts toward
putting up others; and thus all the energies of the people were worn
out in useless and unavailing efforts--in a struggle to which, from
the very nature of the case, there could be no end.
Now those on the pyramid began to rise, and soon all were on their
feet. Cries burst forth from them. All were looking at us, but with
nothing like hostility; it was rather like reverence and adoration,
and these feelings were expressed unmistakably in their cries, among
which I could plainly distinguish such words as these: "Ap Ram!"
"Mosel anan wacosek!" "Sopet Mut!" (The Father of Thunder! Ruler of
Cloud and Darkness! Judge of Death!) These cries passed to those
below. The struggle ceased. All stood and joined in the cry, which was
taken up by those nearest, and soon passed among all those myriads, to
be repeated with thunder echoes far and wide.
At this it suddenly became plain to me that the danger of death had
passed away; that these people no longer regarded me as a victim, but
rather as some mighty being--some superior, perhaps supernatural
power, who was to be almost worshipped. Hence these prostrations,
these words, these cries, these looks. All these told me that the