The monotonous outline of the waterfront brought no disappointment. Little did he care that the city stretched out there before his eyes was little more than a narrow, unbeautiful blur along the sea coast, that there were none of those towers, steeples or minarets with which our ancient ports beckon out to sea that the traveler is welcome. Even when his boat had passed the Mole, and they drew level with the modern works of the Muelle Darsena, well calculated to excite the interest of a younger engineer, he remained indifferent. He had asked the boatman where the Calle de Lima lay, and his eyes hardly left the part of the city which had been pointed out to him in reply. At the landing stage he threw a hand-full of centavos to his man, and shouldered his way through the press of guides, interpreters, hotel touts and other waterside parasites. Soon he was before the Calle de Lima, a thoroughfare which seemed to be the boundary line between the old city and the new. Above, to the east, was the business section—streets broad or narrow fronted with big, modern buildings that were the homes of English, French, German, Italian and Spanish firms without number. Below, to the west, a network of tortuous rows and alleys, full of color, with colonnades and verandahs encroaching on every available space. Dick plunged into this labyrinth, shouldered by muscular Chinamen carrying huge loads, and by lazy Indians. Here and there was to be seen a sailor leaving or entering one of the many cafés which opened their doors into the cool bustle of the narrow streets. Though it was his first visit to Callao, the young man hardly hesitated in his way. Then he stopped short against a decrepit old wall close to a verandah from which came the sound of a fresh young voice, young but very assured. “Just as you like, señor,” it said in Spanish. “But at that price your fertilizer can only be of an inferior quality.” For a few minutes the argument went on within. Then there was an exchange of courteous farewells and a door was closed. Dick approached the balcony and looked into the room. Seated before an enormous ledger was a young girl, busily engaged in transcribing figures into a little note-book attached by a gold chain to the daintiest of waists. Her face, a strikingly beautiful one, was a little set under its crown of coal-black hair as she bent over her task. It was not the head of a languorous Southern belle—rather the curls of Carmen helmeting a blue-eyed Minerva, a little goddess of reason of today and a thorough business-woman. At last she lifted her head.

From the great popularizer of alternative medicine, here is a collection of essays about his travels to South America in the early 1970s in search of information on altered states of consciousness, drug use in other cultures, and other matters having to do with the complementarity of mind and body. Andrew Weil's experiences during this time laid the foundation for his mission to restore the connection between medicine and nature. In The Marriage of the Sun and Moon, now updated with a new preface by the author, the esteemed Dr. Weil attempts to empower patients to take fuller charge of their destinies.

Essays and the catalog for an exhibition of art celebrating the 500th anniversary of the landing of Columbus.

Once, she could pluck fire out of the very air. Now she is the most insignificant member of an imperial court seething with intrigue.Shay, firedancer and bride to the sun, faces punishment for the crimes of her dead father: she has her magic bound and at the emperor's whim finds herself handed over as concubine to a barbarian lord. However, Lord Medyr of the Hawk doesn't particularly fancy such a dubious gift - proving a surprise both to Shay and to the man who wants to use them as pawns in his ruthless bid for power.The reserved, self-controlled firedancer is bewildered by the task of having to deal with that strange creature, a male. Yet with enemies threatening on all sides, Shay and the hot-headed warrior from the north must build a fragile bridge of trust. But will they realise in time that the growing attraction between them is also their deadliest danger?A tale of elemental magic, perilous intrigues, a tortoise and pond slime.

Based on a legend of the Pueblo Indians from the four-corners area of the United States, the libretto by Lilian White Spencer relates the story of the brave Bluefeather, who falls in love with the Bonita clan's Sun Bride. The plot also serves as a frame for the depiction of Indian ceremonies and games, which have their foundation on Skilton's research into Pueblo music and lore. The opera is presented in piano-vocal score, since it was most often performed in this way. The edition includes two plates, which juxtapose the piano-vocal score with the orchestral score.