Chapter 27: The Offerings of the Faithful.

No notice was taken of Luke’s inquiry. Instead, the whole place was filled all at once with a variety of discordant sounds. They seemed to proceed from the monsters which were ranged about the central figure. At the same time their arms began to move, their heads to waggle, their mouths to open and shut, their eyes to roll. Possibly, to the untaught savage, such an exhibition might have appeared impressive. It reminded me too much of the penny-in-the-slot figures whose limbs are set in motion by the insertion of a coin. The slight awe which I had felt for the figures vanished for good and all.

“That’s enough of it,” I observed. “I like them better when they’re still. Would whoever’s pulling the strings mind taking a rest?”

I had a sort of a kind of an idea that by someone or other my remark was not relished so much as it deserved. A suspicion that in some quarter there was a feeling of resentment that what had been intended to confound me should have ended in a fizzle. The noises stopped; the figures ceased to move; it was as if the coin-in-the-slot had given us our pennyworth. Instead, something which, from my point of view, was very much more objectionable began to happen.

From the immediate neighbourhood of the figure on the throne snakes’ heads began to peep. There was no mistake that they were all alive—oh! The evil-looking brutes began to slither over the sides. I never could abide snakes, either in a figurative or a literal sense. The mere sight of one puts my dander up. Whipping up a couple of revolvers out of my coat pockets, I headed the muzzles straight for them.

“Someone had better call those pretty darlings off before I shoot the eyes clean out of their heads!”

To my surprise the warning was immediately answered.

“You’d better not shoot at them, my lad, or you’ll be sorry.”

The words came from the creature on the throne.

“So you are alive, are you? You’d better call them off, or I’ll shoot first, and be sorry after.”

“They’re not touching you, you fool!”

“No, and I’m not going to wait until they are.”

The things were coming unpleasantly close—their approach setting every nerve in my body on edge. In another second or two I would have fired. Luke caught me by the arm.

“Gently, captain, gently. The snakes won’t hurt you; our friend won’t let them. It’s only his way. Captain, let me introduce you to my old friend, Mr. Benjamin Batters. My friend and me haven’t seen each other for years, have we, Ben?”

“Can’t say I ever wanted to see you.”

“Just so, just so; still friends do meet again. Ben, this is Captain Lander.”

“He doesn’t seem to know his proper place.”

“When I glance in your direction, Mr. Batters, I’m inclined to make the same remark of you.”

“Damn the man!”

The creature proved himself to be very much alive by seizing one of the serpents in his huge hands and whirling it above his head as if it had been a club.

Luke played the part of peacemaker.

“Now, gentlemen! Come, Ben, no offence was meant, I’m sure. Tell the captain what you want. He’s in rather a hurry, Captain Lander is.”

“Then let him go to the devil, and take his hurry with him.”

“By all means. I wish you good evening, Mr. Batters.”

I swung round on my heels. The creature screamed after me.

“Stop, you fool, stop! I’m the Joss—the Great Joss; the greatest god this country’s ever known. In my presence all men fall upon their knees and worship me.”

“Let ‘em. Tastes differ. I like my gods to be built on other lines.”

I expected to be attacked by a shower of execration. But the creature changed his mood.