Motionless, they all three turned their eyes to the far end of the chamber.
A golden disk appeared out of the dim shadows which hid the top of the columns; it spun in mid-air, growing brighter and brighter till it shone like the sun itself. Then from the tiled floor under it came two coils of bluish vapour floating up toward the golden sun-disk. As they reached it there came a strange sound, like a mighty whisper, which filled the chamber.
Then, slowly, from behind this veil of vapour, the children beheld a mighty figure appearing.
“It’s Amon Ra!” cried Tibbs, in a husky voice, through his dry lips.
Coppertop fell to her knees, and buried her face in her hands. But Tibbs, although rather shaken, faced him boldly. And Kiddiwee actually ran toward Amon Ra fearlessly, attracted by the bright sun-disk which shone in his forehead.
“Foolish ones!” said Amon Ra in a mighty voice, deep and melodious as the thunder of an organ. “Why have you ventured here? You who have dared to kill a sacred crocodile!”
“If—if you please, sir!” said Tibbs, keeping his voice as steady as he could, “we didn’t kill him! He swallowed us, and the poison from the Bushmen’s arrows settled in his tail—and so—he pegged out!”
“Pegged out?” repeated Amon Ra.
“Well, died,” explained Tibbs.
“That is not true!” thundered Amon Ra, in a voice that made the stone blocks tremble and the pillars sway; “the Clerk of the Weather told me otherwise!”