"I am afraid so, Ramaíya."
Barrett said, "But, lookit here—why can't we just pull stakes off the island entirely? Leave him here to stew in his own gravy, throw a cordon around the lake and make sure he never gets off to pester nobody again—"
Syd O'Brien shook his head.
"That won't do either, Red. Tonlé Sap is too big a lake. Seventy miles long. It would take ten times as many men as we have at our command to maintain a guard about its borders. Sooner or later, Ravana and his soldiers would get away. And, besides—" He glanced at Vibhishana—"there's always the possibility he may succeed in fueling the Bow once more. This time effectively. And if he does, we're licked. Isn't that right?"
"Unhappily," agreed the older man, "it is. No, our effort must be directed toward breaking the deadlock that now exists, somehow rooting him out of his lair."
Ramey said, "This 'Sounding Tower' you spoke of, Kohrisan—what is it?"
"The needle-which-speaks, my Lord."
"The which?"
"Kohrisan," explained Vibhishana, "has given it the name used by the natives. It is really a tower from the top-most chamber of which one can address the entire populace of Lanka in a normal voice, and have his message reach every ear in full, rolling tones. You have seen the talking idols of Chitrakuta?"
"Seen 'em?" chuckled Red. "We was their voice!"