It happened that, by a clear night, Chaman woke up and heard a voice who was calling him in the reeds: “Chaman, Chaman…” Rising on his trembling legs and winking his eyes, he left his mother’s side and got to the pond, taking care to not arouse the venerable does, the herd’s mothers, who were sleeping near the banks. And he pushed the tall shivering herbs with his muzzle, and sought who was speaking to him in such a stealth way. When he leant himself on the water, he got surprised to see the fields of the sky, and the hundred lamps of gods, seeming so near. “Chaman, Chaman…” He heard a second time, although that time the fawn was clearly convinced that the voice wasn’t coming from the place he was standing on, but from his very spirit. He almost shouted, believing he was articulating an answer, because although he was dead to humanity, he however had not forgot the language he was speaking a long time ago… But he contained himself and just glanced beside him. His muffled wail didn’t woke up to anybody, and didn’t even stop the frogs who were cawing under the big, tortuous roots of the willows.
“Here am I” thought the fawn, because his mother told him one day that the gods and the invisible beings of the Forest weren’t deaf to mute words. “Bend your legs Chaman, last born of the Farseeing Herd” answered imperiously the voice in a rustle of reeds. “Bend your legs and your neck, because you’re walking on a soil I made sacred.” Then the fawn bent on his front legs, fearful, and touched the earth with his forehead. When this was made, the voice said: “blissful be the one who humiliate himself in front of the gods, without having seen them.” And without moving or answering, Chaman waited the permission to rise, because the bank’s stones were hurting him cruelly. But the voice kept silent, and only the frogs were making heard their hoarse singing in the darkness. After a short moment, a strange whispering passed across the high herbs, although there was no wind, and the long branches of the willows swished. “Open your eyes Chaman.” Said finally the voice. “I will appear in front of you, and will deliver my knowledge to you”.
The fawn opened his eyes and saw that the surface of the lake began to boil, slowly at first, then with a vitality that was increasing, while a heavy white mist was gathering swiftly above it. Then, in a burst of foam, a form emerged before him, majestic, and dripping water it was about to leave. When it was fully visible, Chaman recognized the goddess Sinan, the Most Learned, memory of all beings, whose nice members were human, but whose sacred head was that of a large-eyed doe, and that he had served in the time he was a man. "Blessed are the one who recognize the gods without having questioned them." Told him the grand appearance while, again, he prostrated himself before her. And she walked towards him, her arms opened, and touched his neck saying "Now get up, and follow me where I will teach the origins of your race."
And she led him into the night along the creek which is called "Sorrow" to the big rock on which is carved a strange face, and whose eyes welling two twin sources. When they arrived there, she made the fawns lain in the grass and gave him to graze red poppies, whose juices arouse hypnotic dreams that can be sometimes true and sometimes liars, as decided by the gods. That is, Sinan took the form of a firefly, and fluttered around the soft muzzle of the fawn, "Eat now the prophetic flowers _ she muttered under this humble appearance_ and I'll make you see what no one has seen before you apart the gods." Then Chaman closed his eyes, feeling sleep gradually invade him, and he no longer perceived as monotonous singing frogs and the sound of water flowing.