I've no doubt that within a hundred miles, or perhaps a good deal less, from where you stand--" "Shut up!" whispered the Colonel, and the party shuffled on down the line of the wall with their faces up and their big hats thrown backwards.

The sun behind them struck the old grey masonry with a brassy glare, and carried on to it the strange black shadows of the tourists, mixing them up with the grim, high-nosed, square-shouldered warriors, and the grotesque, rigid deities who lined it.

The broad shadow of the Reverend John Stuart, of Birmingham, smudged out both the heathen King and the god whom he worshipped.
"What's this ?" he was asking in his wheezy voice, pointing up with a yellow Assouan cane.
"That is a hippopotamus," said the dragoman; and the tourists all tittered, for there was just a suspicion of Mr.Stuart himself in the carving.
"But it isn't bigger than a little pig," he protested.

"You see that the King is putting his spear through it with ease." "They make it small to show that it was a very small thing to the King," said the dragoman.

"So you see that all the King's prisoners do not exceed his knee--which is not because he was so much taller, but so much more powerful.