The Last Queen of Lemuria Read Free

heart.
     
    Andrei, a slim, curly-headed student secretly took pictures of Margo, pretending to be interested in the beauty of the roadside.  "He has the face of a heroic soldier from an old movie," said Margo, summing the boy up in one glance. – "His face is just too well-formed." He had honest gray eyes in glasses, a solid chin, and a dark beard, cut short. He is a complicated guy, or maybe rather, sporty.
     
    Nastia glanced furtively at Andrei, but he didn't notice her, taking endless pictures with his camera.
     
    - "Look!" he suddenly exclaimed, pointing out the window, "look!"
     
    The road had already risen quite high into the mountains. A river flowed down below. A man was running along its bank. He was dressed in white and carrying a staff. But it was not only his strange attire that attracted Nastia's attention. The man was running in a strange manner, as if he was gliding along the earth. He was going as fast as a car! It was as if this strange man was rolling on something very low to the ground and pushing himself along with his staff... or flying. He had a bluish glow about him.
    -         "He's wearing roller-skates," said Andrei.
    -         "How could he be on roller-skates?! Look at that riverbank! There is nothing but fallen trees everywhere!" – objected Margo.
    -         "He's flying! Flying! That's the Mahatma of Shambhala!" – cried out Marina, her pale face becoming even more white.
    Boris gagged.
    The driver glanced warily at Marina. And she whispered a mantra, clasping her hands together:
      – "Gate gate paragate bodhi svaha..."
    Margo and Nastia giggled.
    -         "What's this? What about a matchmaker?” (translator's note: "svaha" is Russian for matchmaker) – said the driver, taken aback.
    -         "Mara, cut it..." said Boris, wagging his finger at his wife, "don't you... understood?" – and he added: "the man in white is riding on something, we just can't see it."
    -         "What's he riding on?" asked Nastia, looking at the stranger.
    -         "He's lit up or something," – said Andrei, not taking his eyes off the riverbank,  "he looks like he's from India."
    The river turned away from the road. The man became hidden from view.  They all turned at once to Samir.
    -         "Who was that?!"
    -         "How should I know," answered the instructor. He took off his hat and wiped away the sweat that had suddenly appeared on his face. His eyes became totally opaque.
    The driver interrupted the conversation:
    -         "It's probably a pilgrim. There's a lot of them around here. They're looking for Shambhala. The Country of Happiness, in their language. They say there's eternal life there and all that good stuff. We call them the Roerichites. Roerich is the last name of one of their important figures- he knows a lot about that Shambhala. Briskly clever, that one."
    Marina looked at the driver with respect.
    -         "I see," smiled Nastia, "Roerich really did come here."
    -         "But all the same, what was he riding on?” –  asked Margo.
    -         "It was the Mahatma!" - said Marina. – "He was flying. The Supreme Spirit of Shambhala. This is a sacred place.”
    The traveling companions looked at one another. Boris frowned, but said nothing.
    Marina shrugged her shoulders. She was used to skeptics by this point.
     
    9*      The river seemed unreal. It was a piercing, light-blue, with crystal water. The kind of river imagined by a child who believes in fairy-tales.  The rays of sunlight pierced the water in a golden grid all the way to the bottom.  The Katun river was calm, but carried its waters through the little  Altai villages, eternal mountains, dark fossilized forests, and bright tents filled with tourists, scattered in many spots along the  riverbanks.
    10*   Silence and beauty reigned on its low banks. Dark blue-green mountains, like broad-shouldered giants surrounded