glance, and, as I think, established the first dwelling-places around the mountain Rip between two rivers, the Eger and the Ultava or Moldau, built the first houses, and gladly placed on the ground the penates which he had carried with him on his shoulders. Then the oldest man, whom the others accompanied as their lord, spake these words to his followers. “O companions, who more than once have remained with me in the depths of the forest, arrest your steps, offer a thank-offering to your penates through whose miraculous protection you have reached this your country that has long been predestined for you. This, then, is the land that I remember often to have promised you, a land subject to no man, full of game and birds, abounding with sweet honey and milk and as you will perceive yourselves, a dwelling-place which its climate renders pleasurable to inhabit. Here you will be wanting in nothing, for no one will hinder you. But now that this land, so beautiful and so great, is in your hands, reflect as to what will be an appropriate name for the country.” Then, as if moved by a divine oracle: “Where could we find a better and more appropriate than if we should call the land also Čechia, as thou our father art called Čechus?” Then their elder moved by this augury began joyfully to embrace the soil, rejoicing that it had received his name; then arising and lifting upward to the stars the palms of his hands he began to speak thus: “Hail, land granted to us by fate and for which we have prayed a thousand times; land that at the time of the deluge wert bereaved of man, preserve us safely as a record for mankind, and multiply our offspring from generation to generation.”’
