But somehow Burunda failed to be greatly overjoyed with the uncovering of the underground pass. In long, rolling waves the water came towards them and splashed at their feet. In another moment with a joyous swish it flowed into the newly uncovered hole.
“Stop the water, stop the water!” cried Burunda and the Mongols set themselves to work to keep the water from getting into the opening. But their work was in vain. The water covered the ground, the clay softened and dissolved into mud in the hands of the Mongols. Such an attempt could not stop the force of the water which kept rolling into the hole ever more strongly from all directions splashing for a long time there and then disappearing within it until in the end it had filled it completely.
Stupefied the Mongols stood around the hollow and watched how the water flooded their last remaining outlet from the valley.
“Vassal!” said Burunda to Maxim, “is this your way out?”
“Behadir,” replied Maxim, “can I command the water where not to go?”
Burunda did not reply to this, only gazed at the water around him which continued to rise, ever deeper covering the valley. Already with a smoothly mirrored surface it glistened over the entire valley. Only here and there peeped tiny islands of dry land. In the Mongolian camp there was a roaring tumult though the water reached barely up to their ankles.
“Behadir,” said Maxim to Burunda, seeing that he was preparing to return to his tent. “I want to remind you of your promise. You said that whenever I showed you the outlet, I would be set free. I showed it to you.”
“And the outlet disappointed me. You will be set free only when we have all come out of this valley and not before.”
And Burunda left him, followed by his company, to return and restore order among his confused soldiers.
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