Bastante drove westwards, and north, deep into the mighty forest of the great Northwest. He went on meditation retreat yet again. Owls and elves held vigil.
And the forest breathed, and Bastante came out of retreat, and drove south, through Cascadia into the land of Kali, and there in northern Kali-land he held council with the peace chiefs at the cusp of the great ganja harvest.
The whole breadth of Cascadia and Kali Land celebrated the Great Ganja Harvest, working from sunrise to midnite for months at a time to bring in the harvest of ganja, that would be sent around the world for the healing of all nations and all relations. It was harvest time, a time of great abundance and celebration. Bastante watched the seasons change, and held vigil with elders, and looked upon the stars for a sign.
The sign came. He boarded a mighty machine, a dragon machine, with wings and a tail, and gazed out the window as the dragon took him into the middle of the Great Western Ocean, vast as the world.
And there the dragon spit him out pleasantly, and bid him adieu. Welcome to Lemuria.
Bastante was home.
