It went on for some time, I don't know how long, till at length the
Motombo picked up his fantastically shaped horn and blew. Thereon the
women darted from the various doorways, but seeing that they were not
wanted, checked themselves in their stride and remained standing so,
in the very attitude of runners about to start upon a race. As the
blast of the horn died away the turmoil was suddenly succeeded by an
utter stillness, broken only by the crackling of the fires whose
flames, of all the living things in that place, alone seemed heedless
of the tragedy which was being played.
"All up now, old fellow!" whispered Stephen to me in a shaky voice.
"Yes," I answered, "all up high as heaven, where I hope we are going.
Now back to back, and let's make the best fight we can. We've got the
spears."
While we were closing in the Motombo began to speak.
"So you plotted to kill the god, Kalubi-who-/was/," he screamed, "with
these white ones whom you would pay with the Holy Flower and her who
guards it. Good! You shall go, all of you, and talk with the god.
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