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His inseparable companions were a hubble-bubble at his left, and a sitar on his lap; and from his throat flowed song unceasing. Srikantha Babu had no need to wait for a formal introduction, for none could resist the natural claims of his genial heart. Once he took us to be photographed with him in some big English photographic studio.
That is due to the difference in the optic nerves, which explains why we see things so differently from the way the Osnomians do. Perhaps they can describe the way they look to each other in our white light." "Can you, Sitar?" asked Dorothy.
She played little songs on the sitar, and to hear her sing, "O Peacock, cry again," was always a fresh pleasure.
"They'll freeze to death in five minutes without any clothes on!" "Yes, and Sitar can't stand up under our gravitation, either I doubt if Dunark can, for long," and Seaton dashed toward the vessel, motioning the visitor back. But misunderstanding the signal, Dunark came on.
Then every mahout straightened, freezing to a fixed position that did not differ by a line from the position of his neighbour on either side. Now the people saw that this celebration for Neela Deo, King of all elephants, was to show as much pomp as is prepared for kings of men and they were deeply content. The strings of one sitar began to breathe delicate tones.
There was a peal of delighted laughter from Sitar and she spoke to one of the servants, who drew dark curtains across the windows and pressed a switch, flooding the room with brilliant white light. "Dunark installed lamps like those of your ship for you," she explained with intense satisfaction. "I knew in advance just how you would feel about your color."
"You sure will do!" he pronounced enthusiastically, and with Seaton's own impulsive good will he shook hands and wished them an eternity of happiness. "When you have spoken with your brides," he continued, "I shall be waiting to escort you into the chapel. Sitar told me to say that the ladies are ready."
"I don't like your Earth a bit, but I can stand it a little while. Anyway, I must stand it, so why worry about it?" "'At-a-girl!" cheered Seaton. "And as for you, Dunark, you'll pass the time just like Sitar does lying down. If you do much chasing around down there where we live, you're apt to get your lights and liver twisted all out of shape so you'll stay put, horizontal.
With Mardonale gone, the evolution of Osnome shall progress rapidly, and while we may not reach the Ultimate Goal, I have learned enough from you already to speed up our progress considerably." "Well, that's that. Had to get it off my chest, although I knew you'd get the idea all right. Here are the girls Sitar too. We'll show 'em around."
Not unfrequently dancing boys or girls are in attendance, and the horrid din of tom-toms, cymbals, a squeaking fiddle, or a twanging sitar, rattling castanets, and ear-piercing songs from the dusky prima donna, makes night hideous, until the grey dawn peeps over the dark forest line. Early in January, 1875, my camp was at a place in the sal jungles called Lohurneah.
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