“Farewell!” called Long Arrow from his bed, “and may good fortune ever stand within the shadow of your throne!”

“He comes!—He comes!” murmured the crowd. “Away! Away!—To the Whispering Rocks!”

And as the procession formed up to leave the village, the crowd about us began hurrying off in the direction of the mountains to make sure of good seats in the giant theatre where the crowning ceremony would take place.