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<h6>Author</h6>
<h1>Paulo Coelho</h1>
<h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6>
<p id="paragraph">
The tribal chieftain said that he felt sorry for the tribesmen, but
that the Tradition was sacred. He condemned the commander to
death without honor. Rather than being killed by a blade or a bullet,
he was hanged from a dead palm tree, where his body twisted in the
desert wind.
The tribal chieftain called for the boy, and presented him with
fifty pieces of gold. He repeated his story about Joseph of Egypt, and
asked the boy to become the counselor of the oasis.
WHEN THE SUN HAD SET, AND THE FIRST STARS MADE their appearance, the
boy started to walk to the south. He eventually sighted a single tent,
and a group of Arabs passing by told the boy that it was a place
inhabited by genies. But the boy sat down and waited.
Not until the moon was high did the alchemist ride into view. He
carried two dead hawks over his shoulder.
“I am here,” the boy said.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the alchemist answered. “Or is it your
Personal Legend that brings you here?”
“With the wars between the tribes, it’s impossible to cross the
desert. So I have come here.”
The alchemist dismounted from his horse, and signaled that the
boy should enter the tent with him. It was a tent like many at the
oasis. The boy looked around for the ovens and other apparatus
used in alchemy, but saw none. There were only some books in a
pile, a small cooking stove, and the carpets, covered with
mysterious designs.
“Sit down. We’ll have something to drink and eat these hawks,”
said the alchemist.
The boy suspected that they were the same hawks he had seen
on the day before, but he said nothing. The alchemist lighted the
fire, and soon a delicious aroma filled the tent. It was better than the
scent of the hookahs.
“Why did you want to see me?” the boy asked.
“Because of the omens,” the alchemist answered. “The wind told
me you would be coming, and that you would need help.”
“It’s not I the wind spoke about. It’s the other foreigner, the
Englishman. He’s the one that’s looking for you.”
“He has other things to do first. But he’s on the right track. He
has begun to try to understand the desert.”
“And what about me?”
“When a person really desires something, all the universe
conspires to help that person to realize his dream,” said the
alchemist, echoing the words of the old king. The boy understood.
Another person was there to help him toward his Personal Legend.
“So you are going to instruct me?”
“No. You already know all you need to know. I am only going to
point you in the direction of your treasure.”
“But there’s a tribal war,” the boy reiterated.
“I know what’s happening in the desert.”
“I have already found my treasure. I have a camel, I have my
money from the crystal shop, and I have fifty gold pieces. In my own
country, I would be a rich man.”
“But none of that is from the Pyramids,” said the alchemist.
“I also have Fatima. She is a treasure greater than anything else I
have won.”
“She wasn’t found at the Pyramids, either.”
They ate in silence. The alchemist opened a bottle and poured a
red liquid into the boy’s cup. It was the most delicious wine he had
ever tasted.
“Isn’t wine prohibited here?” the boy asked
“It’s not what enters men’s mouths that’s evil,” said the
alchemist. “It’s what comes out of their mouths that is.”
The alchemist was a bit daunting, but, as the boy drank the wine,
he relaxed. After they finished eating they sat outside the tent,
under a moon so brilliant that it made the stars pale.
</p>
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<h5 class="pageNumber">Page 46</h5>
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