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.
