Chapter 28 - Page 2

"Ay, death's cold ague will set us all shivering, my lord. We'll swear
our teeth are icicles."

"Will you quit driving your sleet upon us? have done expound these
rocks."

"My lord, if you desire, I'll turn over these stone tablets till
they're dog-eared."

"Heaven and Mardi!--Go on, Babbalanja."

"'Twas thus. These were tombs burst open by volcanic throes; and
hither hurled from the lowermost vaults of the lagoon. All Mardi's
rocks are one wide resurrection. But look. Here, now, a pretty story's
told. Ah, little thought these grand old lords, that lived and roared
before the flood, that they would come to this. Here, King Media, look
and learn."

He looked; and saw a picture petrified, and plain as any on the
pediments of Petra.

It seemed a stately banquet of the dead, where lords in skeletons were
ranged around a board heaped up with fossil fruits, and flanked with
vitreous vases, grinning like empty skulls. There they sat, exchanging
rigid courtesies. One's hand was on his stony heart; his other pledged
a lord who held a hollow beaker. Another sat, with earnest face
beneath a mitred brow. He seemed to whisper in the ear of one who
listened trustingly. But on the chest of him who wore the miter, an
adder lay, close-coiled in flint.

At the further end, was raised a throne, its canopy surmounted by a
crown, in which now rested the likeness of a raven on an egg.

The throne was void. But half-concealed by drapery, behind the
goodliest lord, sideway leaned a figure diademed, a lifted poniard in
its hand:--a monarch fossilized in very act of murdering his guest.

"Most high and sacred majesty!" cried Babbalanja, bowing to his feet.

While all stood gazing on this sight, there came two servitors of
Media's, who besought of Babbalanja to settle a dispute, concerning
certain tracings upon the islet's other side.

Thither we followed them.

Upon a long layer of the slaty stone were marks of ripplings of some
now waveless sea; mid which were tri-toed footprints of some huge
heron, or wading fowl.

Pointing to one of which, the foremost disputant thus spoke:--"I
maintain that these are three toes."

"And I, that it is one foot," said the other.

"And now decide between us," joined the twain.

Said Babbalanja, starting, "Is not this the very question concerning
which they made such dire contention in Maramma, whose tertiary rocks
are chisseled all over with these marks? Yes; this it is, concerning
which they once shed blood. This it is, concerning which they still
divide."

"Which of us is right?" again