Still there was silence; but not for long. Presently the figure, whom we rightly guessed to be the king, raised the great spear in his hand. Instantly eight thousand spears were raised 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 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 the limestone flooring.
Twala turned his one cold eye in the direction of the noise.
"Come. hither, thou," he said, in a voice of thunder.
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 strangers from the stars? What hast thou to say?"