Stealthily Opna made a hole in the mud wall on the back of the house. For months he had delayed the maintenance of the wall, waiting for the good weather and the dry heat of summer. Now that crumbled wall was proving to be an asset. "Oh gods, thank you for making me delay the work!" He prayed certain that there was a meaning and an omen in the event. Slinkier than a weasel Opna slipped out and walked away from the hut not before having thrown some bones to the dogs. The dogs run away without barking or whining. Opna breathed relieved. A huge full moon was casting its eerie light, but Opna felt confident: secretly that night he had burned a pinch of pubic hair of his wife Peqo on the fire of the small domestic altar in order to distract the goddess. Pleased by the smoke maybe she would cover her splendor with clouds. When he got to the fence surrounding the village Opna thanked the goddess. All was silent. Now he just had to slip out of the rear opening that was not guarded, and the tall grass would protect him as he dipped into the water. It was then that the trap sprang shut suddenly. "The Storks are about to leave, the stalks bend under the weight of the grains, you are the Spirit of the Emmer, you're the Goat with the Hair Made Golden by the Ears, you are the Mother of the Village, the Lord of the Animals." Bhlaghmn intoned handing him the Sacred Bundle. It took a few moments to Opna to make up his mind about the horror of his situation. His friends had been hidden outside the palisade, five of them, ready to ambush him; now three of them held him still while the other two were offering him the sacred bundle. And those dirty dogs were laughing off their heads! How did they guess his intentions if he himself did not know what he would do until that afternoon? "Ah, ah! we were sure you'd try to run away!" Woiksla guffawed. "Almost everybody tries to give the slip! The ritual formula, Opna!" Opna bowed and mumbled: "I am the Goat, the Spirit of Emmer, I am the One Who Cuts The Last Ears." and with the bundle tight to his chest he went back into the village because no one in his right mind would refuse the Sacred Bundle and its burden unless he wanted to draw to itself and the village a deadly curse. The hustle and bustle outside was such that Peqo and Chaisos had awakened and now were waiting anxiously. Opna, henceforth called ceremonially The Goat, Spirit of Emmer, placed the sacred bundle on the domestic altar Peqo had carefully swept and wet with goat milk, and grimly waited for the dawn. His mouth sang the sacred songs of thanksgiving, but his mind was inventing cruel tortures against his brotherhood's members, yet none of them could be implemented. At dawn his mind was singing with the rhythm of sacred songs, "I'm doomed to destitution!"