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Long ago in a deep mountain valley verdant with growth and watered by a crystalline river there lived a tribe. They prospered and grew until the grass was grazed away, the game hunted to extinction, and the river ran dry. A group of young pioneer heroes rose up to say, “We have heard of a wider valley and deeper river over the mountains where no one has gone. Let us be up and going.”

They made their way to the deeper valley with the wider stream and it was as they had heard. They returned with their report to the tribal council. There was, however, a council called “The Old Men Who Know.” They responded that there could be no such place, and even it there were, the tribe could never make the journey.

The young heroes struggled until most of the tribe had died. Finally they made their way over the mountain to the land of the future. There they grew and prospered once again. Finally the day came when the grass in the new valley had been grazed down and the water ran low. A new group of young pioneer heroes arose and claimed that beyond the next mountain there was an even larger valley with more grass and great herds of game.

But the strangest thing had happened. The original young pioneer heroes had in one generation become “The Old Men Who Know.” They complained that no one could risk the journey of crossing over.

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