Lorot Son of the Hills, go and tell ‘em

"Lorot Son of the Hills, the Hills are not happy. Go and tell the sons and daughters of the hills that we are displeased and our spirits are troubled."
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Whenceupon Lorot Son of the Hills trudged to the Hill of Truth, to listen to the echoes of the Hill and to be the intermediary of the secrets of the hills. It was in the evening, and all mortal men were going to their homesteads. But Lorot Son of the Hills was going to commune with the Hills. When everywhere is quiet and only the sound of an occasional low of a cow or a bleat of a goat does Lorot Son of the Hills goes to the Hills. This was such day, this was such moment.

Then the conversation begun.

The Hills echoed:

"Lorot Son of the Hills, the Hills are not happy. Go and tell the sons and daughters of the hills that we are displeased and our spirits are troubled."

I was quiet. I hardly moved my feet. The straps of my sandals made out camel skin were loose.

The Hills continue to echo:
“Lorot Son of the Hills, go tell the sons and daughters of the hills that they are good people. They are hardworking, they are diligent, they are versatile. They dash from their beds at crack of dawn and sleep late. Of them, the Hills are pleased."

“But there is a category of the sons and daughters that need mention. They are born within the society of the sons and daughters of the hills, yet their traits are so different. They carry the virtue of their folks but when they are given power, they become demi-gods. They reap where they haven’t sown. They are the rubble-rousers."

“They suddenly develop an alien feeling of accumulating everything. They amass wealth, they grab everything, they care not more. They are a disgrace to the sons and daughters of the hills who lack. They are an abasement, an opprobrium.”

"Lorot Son of the Hills, go and tell them this: That we are displeased and our spirits are troubled. Tell them the echoes of the hills are angry with them and that the curse of the sons and daughters of the hills are upon them. Tell them in this dry season, the hills are also crying. For if you sons and daughters of the hills see water flowing down the boulders, those are the tears of our pain and sorrow of our hearts. And when the wind blows in the hills and trees sway in their weights know that our wrath is stirred"

"Now go, Lorot Son of the Hills, go and tell them......"