them, and then he lifts them up and shakes hands all round to make them friendly like.  He calls them and gives them the boxes to carry, and waves his hand for all the world as though he was King already.  They takes the boxes and him across the valley and up the hill into a pine wood on the top, where there was half a dozen big stone idols.  Dravot he goes to the biggest—­a fellow they call Imbra—­and lays a rifle and a cartridge at his feet, rubbing his nose respectfuly with his own nose, patting him on the head, and nods his head, and says, ’That’s all right.  I’m in the know too, and these old jimjams are my friends.’  Then he opens his mouth and points down it, and when the first man brings him food, he says, ‘No;’ and when the second man brings him food, he says ‘no;’ but when one of the old priests and the boss of the village brings him food, he says, ‘Yes;’ very haughty, and eats it slow.  That was how he came to our first village without any trouble, just as though we had tumbled from the skies.  But we tumbled from one of those damned rope-bridges, you see, and—­you couldn’t expect a man to laugh much after that?”

“Take some more whisky and go on,” I said.  “That was the first village you came into.  How did you get to be King?”

“I wasn’t King,” said Carnehan.  “Dravot he was the King, and a handsome man he looked with the gold crown on his head and all.  Him and the other party stayed in that village, and every morning Dravot sat by the side of old Imbra, and the people came and worshipped.  That was Dravot’s order.  Then a lot of men came into the valley, and Carnehan Dravot picks them off with the rifles before they knew where they was, and runs down into the valley and up again the other side, and finds another village, same as the first one, and the people all falls down flat on their faces, and Dravot says, ’Now what is the trouble between you two villages?’ and the people points to a woman, as fair as you or me, that was carried off, and Dravot takes her back to the first village and counts up the dead—­eight there was.  For each dead man Dravot pours a little milk on the ground and waves his arms like a whirligig, and ‘That’s all right,’ says he.  Then he and Carnehan takes the big boss of each village by the arm, and walks them down the valley, and shows them how to scratch a line with a spear right down the valley, and gives each a sod of turf from both sides of the line.  Then all the people comes down and shouts like the devil and all, and Dravot says, ’Go and dig the land, and be fruitful and multiply,’ which they did, though they didn’t understand.  Then we asks the names of things in their lingo—­bread and water and fire and idols and such; and Dravot leads the priest of each village up to the idol, and says he must sit there and judge the people, and if anything goes wrong he is to be shot.