Note 3 — II Kazha-ndii

He went, he went, he went, he went as much as he could—week and week, week and fortnight, a year and three months,3—he went over six mountains. When he had crossed these six mountains everything round about him began to reel: trees and stones fell down and clattered into the valleys, but Geria was not hurt by them. Then, from beneath, there came to him a voice, saying: ‘What kind of man art thou to stand thus against me. Who can resist me but Geria, the poor man’s son.’ ‘’Tis I—Geria, the poor man’s son.’