She shrugged her shoulders.  “Yes, as I have heard that some people count wealth.  These are the offerings brought to our gods from the beginning; also all the gold found in the mountains belongs to the gods, and there is much of it there.  The gift I sent to you was taken from this heap, but in truth it is but a poor gift, seeing that although this stuff is bright and serves for cups and other things, it has no use at all and is only offered to the gods because it is harder to come by than other metals.  Look, these are prettier than the gold,” and from a stone table she picked up at hazard a long necklace of large, uncut stones, red and white in colour and set alternatively, that Alan judged to be crystals and spinels.

“Take it,” she said, “and examine it at your leisure.  It is very old.  For hundreds of years no more of these necklaces have been made,” and with a careless movement she threw the chain over his head so that it hung upon his shoulders.

Alan thanked her, then remembered that the man called Mungana, who was the husband, real or official, of this priestess, had been somewhat similarly adorned, and shivered a little as though at a presage of advancing fate.  Still he did not return the thing, fearing lest he should give offence.

At this moment his attention was taken from the treasure by the sound of a groan behind him.  Turning round he perceived Jeekie, his great eyes rolling as though in an extremity of fear.

“Oh my golly!  Major,” he ejaculated, pointing to the wall, “look there.”

Alan looked, but at first in that dim light could only discover long rows of gleaming objects which reached from the floor to the roof.

“Come and see,” said the Asika, and taking a lamp from that table on which lay the gems, she led him past the piles of gold to one side of the vault or hall.  Then he saw, and although he did not show it, like Jeekie he was afraid.

For there, each in his own niche and standing one above the other, were what looked like hundreds of golden men with gleaming eyes.  At first until the utter stillness undeceived him, he thought that they must be men.  Then he understood that this was what they had been; now they were corpses wrapped in sheets of thin gold and wearing golden masks with eyes of crystal, each mask being beaten out to a hideous representation of the man in life.

“All these are the husbands of my spirit,” said the priestess, waving the lamp in front of the lowest row of them, “Munganas who were married to the Asikas in the past.  Look, here is he who said that he ought to be king of that rich land where year after year the river overflows its banks,” and going to one of the first of the figures in the bottom row, she drew out a fastening and suffered the gold mask to fall forward on a hinge, exposing the face within.