The old man also was weeping. Without
recognising him, Julian remembered confusedly a face that
resembled his. He uttered a cry; for it was his father who stood
before him; and he gave up all thought of taking his own life.
Thus weighted down by his recollections, he travelled through many
countries and arrived at a river which was dangerous, because of
its violence and the slime that covered its shores. Since a long
time nobody had ventured to cross it.
The bow of an old boat, whose stern was buried in the mud, showed
among the reeds. Julian, on examining it closely, found a pair of
oars and hit upon the idea of devoting his life to the service of
his fellow-men.
He began by establishing on the bank of the river a sort of road
which would enable people to approach the edge of the stream; he
broke his nails in his efforts to lift enormous stones which he
pressed against the pit of his stomach in order to transport them
from one point to another; he slipped in the mud, he sank into it,
and several times was on the very brink of death.
Then he took to repairing the boat with debris of vessels, and
afterwards built himself a hut with putty and trunks of trees.
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