Presently, He rose and faced West. He was working—His fingers pulsed with the rapid, characteristic gestures. His head was bowed and His face was drawn and full of suffering. He did indeed look as if the suffering of the world were upon Him. The others from town joined us in silence, and nothing was heard for a while but the whirr of the crickets and the lapping of the lake.

Then Baba crossed to the opposite side of the traffic circle, and faced East. Again, He "worked." Twice more He moved, and stood working, so that He had stood at the four compass points. In the end, His face had cleared, His posture changed, and with one of those rapid alternations of His inner spiritual rhythm, He seemed happy and radiant again.

He then walked along the pathway to the Barn, beckoning us to follow. After a few hundred feet, He motioned us to stop, and through Eruch, asked us to concentrate for one minute, looking into His eyes. We all stood around Him and obeyed, for what seemed not one minute, but an eternity, staring into those deep black eye-pools. They seemed, in the direct sunlight, or because the emanation of spiritual light was so intense, to have a bluish cast, as He looked eastward into the forest.

As I stared fixedly into His eyes, they seemed, without moving, to become a thousand eyes, glancing rapidly literally in a thousand directions at once. Yet His white-clad figure stood absolutely motionless, except for the moving fingers. The air about Him seemed to vibrate with such force that it all became a whirl of dancing pinpricks of light—all "name and form" seemed about to disappear. An enormous penumbra of white light seemed to hover and dazzle about Baba. I felt everything turning into numbers, equations, formulas . . . I thought in one second more I would leave all consciousness of the gross world! Of course, at that moment, Baba broke our meditation. Other people have said they, too, had unusual experiences during these few moments of concentration on the Master.

Baba turned, and we saw a car with Florida license plates had driven up behind us. It was Mahdah Love and a friend who had come from St. Petersburg for Baba's darshan. He drew her off to one side and "spoke" with her a few moments and embraced her. Soon after, she left on her return trip.

We followed Baba back to the interview cabin where, about 9 a.m., He again began to see people privately. Dr. Fredoon Birdi, the Parsi doctor, had