Here in this valley men are led to die; presently you will see." "I have seen," answered Owen.

"Yonder where we shall halt is a mount, and on that mount stands a tree; it is called the Tree of Death, and it stretches a thousand hands to Heaven, praying for mercy that does not come, and from its boughs there hangs fruit, a fruit of dead men--yes, twenty of them hang there this day." "How know you these things, my father," asked the man amazed, "seeing that I have never spoken to you of them ?" "Nay," he answered, "God has spoken to me.

My God and your God." Another hour passed, and they were resting by the spring of water, near to the shadow of the dreadful tree, for in that gorge the sun burned fiercely.

John counted the bodies that swung upon it, and again looked fearfully at Owen, for there were twenty of them.
"I desire to go up to that tree," Owen said to the guard.
"As you will, Messenger," answered their leader; "I have no orders to prevent you from so doing.

Still," he added with a solemn smile, "it is a place that few seek of their own will, and, because I like you well, Messenger, I pray it may never be my duty to lead you there of the king's will." Then Owen went up to the tree and John with him, only John would not pass beneath the shadow of its branches; but stood by wondering, while his master bound a handkerchief about his mouth.
"How did he know that the breath of the tree is poisonous ?" John wondered.
Owen walked to the bole of the tree, and breaking off some of the finger-like leaves of the creeper that twined about it, he pressed their milky juice into a little bottle that he had made ready.