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striking of these proofs was constituted by the bejewelled rope: was evident that the «Spanish
Gold» of the medals, proceed from Tharsis, from the ancient mines of Tartessos; and the hair
«dyed with burnt lime», of the rope, belonged to the unfortunate Tartessian Vrayas, those who
were murdered by Bera and Birsha when they saved the Wise Sword and with their blood the

Immortals had written the sentence: «the punishment for those who offend Yah will come
from the wild boar». Undoubtedly they considered it a closed cycle, a millenary revenge
carried out, perhaps they believed that the House of Tharsis was exterminated once again, for
have employed that meaningful form of execution: to assassinate the last Vraya with the hair
that they had taken from one of the first Vrayas, macabre trophy that now they were returning
with diabolic logic. And what mystery was hidden behind the powers of Bera and Birsha, in
their incredible dominion of Time! Because from the police report was deduced that clearly that
such hair had not suffered the pass of time: the hair of the rope, indeed, was still alive,
as if it had been recently cut from a human head, from a head of White Race, when it
was braided to kill; and in no way it revealed the two thousand years elapsed since
then. Where, O if just thinking about this question filled me of quietude, where they had saved
it until now without getting old? Perhaps in the same hell where they dwelled, and that
Belicena Villca called Chang Shambhala? Yes. In all probability that was the correct answer: the
hair proceeded from their Damn Abodes, where Time didn’t pass and They neither aged.

I had decided to face the danger and I had to begin as soon as possible. First I wanted to
clarify definitively the issue of the gold medals legends. And for it no one could be of major
utility than Professor Ramirez. I was going then, to meet him.

I parked the car on the beach of the University City and I went to the Faculty of
Anthropology in search of Professor Ramirez. He was very busy, effectuating a translation; but
he attended me with courtesy.

–What brings you to see me again, Dr. Siegnagel; another Quecha’s delirium of your
patients? –he mocked.

–No Professor, this time is not about American languages. I found inside an old book, a
paper with this draw –I lied coldly– and I wanted to ask you about the inscriptions. –I gave him
the draw that I made of the sinister gold jewel.

His small grey eyes lightened, and for one moment it seemed that he really was
interested; but immediately he adopted again the laconic air that characterized him. Nothing
could affect the old erudite, admired by the Universities around the world.

–This is the most grotesque linguistic combination that I’ve ever seen. Is this a joke,
Siegnagel? –He asked distrusting.

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