Suddenly the three in the corner, each grasping two weapons that looked like clubs, stretched their hands high above their heads and brought them down with a crash that made me jump to my feet. What I had taken for baskets were tom-toms! Without losing a single beat, the drummers began to blow vigorously on long pipes from which came a sad wailing. I spoke no more with my guide, for the “musicians” made noise that drowned all other sounds for the next two hours.
I marched on with the monks, who had given me a place of honor in their ranks, from one statue to another. Behind us surged a murmuring multitude who fell on their knees again and again. No one sat during the service, and there was nothing like a sermon. The priests spoke only to the dreamy-eyed Buddhas.
It was late when the service ended. The boiler-factory music ceased as suddenly as it had begun, the worshipers poured forth into the soft night, and I was left alone with my guides and a dozen priests.
“See,” whispered the innkeeper’s son. “You are honored. The head man of the temple comes.”
An aged father drew near slowly. In outward appearance he looked exactly like the other priests. A brilliant yellow robe was his only garment. His head was shaved; his arms, right shoulder, and feet were bare. Having joined the group, he studied me a moment in silence, then said something to me in his native language.
“He is asking if you are liking to see the sacred tooth?” translated my guide.
I bowed my thanks. The high priest led the way to the innermost room of the temple. In the center of this room he halted, fell on his knees, and, muttering a prayer, touched his forehead to the stone floor three times. The attendant priests imitated every movement he made.
He then rose and drew forth a large gold casket. From it he took a second a bit smaller, and handed the first to one of his companions. From the second he drew a third, and from the third a fourth. This was kept up until nearly every priest held a casket, some fantastically carved, some inlaid with precious stones. With the opening of every third box, all those not holding anything fell on their knees and repeated their prayers and bowings. Finally the head priest came to the innermost casket, not over an inch in length and set with diamonds and rubies. At sight of this all fell on their knees and murmured prayers. Then the head priest opened it carefully. Inside, yellow with age, was a tooth that certainly never grew in any human mouth. The fitting together of the box of boxes required as much ceremony as was necessary in taking them apart.
CHAPTER XVI
THE MERRY CIRCUS DAYS
I returned to Colombo by train, reaching the city in the late afternoon. I made my way at once to Almeida’s. In the roofless dining-room sat Askins and the Swede, highly excited over the news that Colombo was to be visited by a circus.