Instantly there was tumult all about us. The crowd broke and surged toward the central point in the tragedy, forcing us who were in front to struggle on the crest of the wave. Their reserve vanished and each man cried to his neighbor in eager tones and allowed the mad excitement of the moment full sway.  
Some one cut Ilalah’s bonds and the girl sank to the ground to support the head of the little arrow-maker upon her breast, pressing back his thin locks and tenderly kissing him upon the forehead.
 
But he knew nothing of this grateful kindness. His eyes were set and glazed, for the arrow had lodged in his heart.
 
294
A tug at my thong threatened to strangle me, for Moit had bounded forward to kneel beside Ilalah and try to assist her in spite of his own helpless condition. Then some semblance of order was restored and our guards pushed us back and eased the thong which was fast throttling me.
 
From the murmured words of the natives I gathered that Tcharn had atoned by his sacrifice for all the guilt charged against the princess, as the law declared that when the death penalty was imposed another could die instead of the condemned and so set him free.
 
For this reason the king was raging like a wild beast and threatening those who expressed sympathy for the girl who had so miraculously escaped his brutal vengeance.
 
“But the whites, at least, shall die—and the black men who are with them!” he shouted aloud, casting at us such glances of hatred and ferocity that we knew our fate was sealed.
 
They had carried poor Tcharn away and the princess had risen to her feet and now stood bravely confronting her father.
 
295
“It is folly to talk of injuring these strangers,” she answered him, boldly. “I alone know their wonderful powers and that they are able to crush us all if we dare attempt to harm them.”
 
The king let out a disdainful roar, but Ilalah’s words impressed many in the crowd and caused the Techlas to murmur again.
 
“What can they do?” asked Nalig-Nad, derisively. “They are but human and they are in our power.”
 
“They have their magic chariot,” she said, “which you all know can deal death and destruction to their foes.”
 
“Magic!” retorted the king, laughing boisterously; “do you call that poor, man-made contrivance magic?”
 
All eyes turned toward the opening, where a hundred yards beyond the broken wall poor Moit’s automobile was standing motionless as we had left it.
 
Most of those present had witnessed the machine’s marvelous performances, and in nearly every face now lurked an expression............