.

Still there was silence; but not for long. Presently the man, whom we
rightly guessed to be the king, raised the great javelin in his hand.
Instantly eight thousand spears were lifted in answer, and from eight
thousand throats rang out the royal salute of "_Koom_." Three times
this was repeated, and each time the earth shook with the noise, that
can only be compared to the deepest notes of thunder.

"Be humble, O people," piped out a thin voice which seemed to come from
the monkey in the shade, "it is the king."

"_It is the king_," boomed out the eight thousand throats in answer.
"_Be humble, O people, it is the king._"

Then there was silence again--dead silence. Presently, however, it was
broken. A soldier on our left dropped his shield, which fell with a
clatter on to the limestone flooring.

Twala turned his one cold eye in the direction of the noise.

"Come hither, thou," he said, in a cold voice.

A fine young man stepped out of the ranks, and stood before him.

"It was thy shield that fell, thou awkward dog. Wilt thou make me a
reproach in the eyes of these strangers from the Stars? What hast thou
to say for thyself?"

We saw the poor fellow turn pale under his dusky skin.

"It was by chance, O Calf of the Black Cow," he murmured.

"Then it is a chance for which thou must pay. Thou hast made me
foolish; prepare for death."

"I am the king's ox," was the low answer.

"Scragga," roared the king, "let me see how thou canst use thy spear.
Kill me this blundering fool."

Scragga stepped forward with an ill-favoured grin, and lifted his
spear. The poor victim covered his eyes with his hand and stood still.
As for us, we were petrified with horror.

"Once, twice," he waved the spear, and then struck, ah! right home--the
spear stood out a foot behind the soldier's back. He flung up his hands
and dropped dead. From the multitude about us rose something like a
murmur, it rolled round and round, and died away. The tragedy was
finished; there lay the corpse, and we had not yet realised that it had
been enacted. Sir Henry sprang up and swore a great oath, then,
overpowered by the sense of silence, sat down again.

"The thrust was a good one," said the king; "take him away."

Four men stepped out of the ranks, and lifting the body of the murdered
man, carried it thence.

"Cover up the blood-stains, cover them up," piped out the thin voice
that proceeded from the monkey-like figure; "the king's word is