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Updated: June 9, 2025
To tell the truth, like nine-tenths of his class and profession, he was ignorant of the political facts about which he declaimed, so that his trumpetings could hardly disturb the leaders of the day.
From the adjoining room came a chorus of distress: snores of every size, volume, and degree of intensity, from the last harrowing gasp of strangulation to the bold trumpetings of a bull moose. There were long drawn sighs, groans of torture, rumbling blasts. Speed shuddered. "They sound like a troop of trained sea-lions," said he. "Don't wake 'em up. Here!"
Then suddenly an angry squeal pealed out upon the startled air, immediately followed by a violent clashing of tusks, furious trumpetings, and a tremendous commotion generally. "Olifants fighting, baas!" excitedly whispered Piet in my ear. "Now's de time for us: come on quick, baas, we get close up to 'em and they never see us; then you get 'em bofe."
We had outstripped the taint of smoke, and the original cause of fear, but the beast seemed to have forgotten everything in its mad panic. It held furiously on with enormous strides, carrying its trunk aloft, and deafening us with its screams and trumpetings.
Moreover, Bulalio, chief of the People of the Axe, has not offended against me, but against an elephant whose trumpetings are done.
Uttering loud trumpetings the great elephant started on a swift shamble for his quarters, giving not the slightest heed to his trainer's commands to halt. "Let him go. Emperor won't hurt me," laughed Phil as soon as he could get his breath, for he was moving along at a pace which would have meant a tumble to the ground had the elephant not supported the lad with its trunk.
For a few yards all went well with them, though they clearly found it heavy going; then suddenly the great bull sank up to his belly in the stiff peaty soil, and remained fixed. The others, mad with fear, took no heed of his struggles and trumpetings, but plunged on to meet the same fate.
The fluidic hand did not appear. Even had it zigzagged there was no Belshazzar to frighten. Only the doom was real. Cyrus was clothed with it. To the trumpetings of heralds and the sheen of angels' wings, triumphantly he came.
With those tremendous trumpetings and drum-beatings, "making night hideous" with their storm of menacing, barbaric sound, and with the fierce glare of the torchlight, it might have seemed to her that Doomsday had burst on the world, and that the savage old Huns of Attila were up first, ready for war. The next day they all went up the Rhine to the King's Palace of Stolzenfels.
Think what it means to me and you To see it even as God Evolved it when the world was new! When Light rose, earthquake shod, And slow its gradual splendor grew O'er deeps the whirlwind trod. What shoutings then and cymbalings Arose from depth and height! What worship-solemn trumpetings, And thunders, burning white, Of winds and waves, and anthemings Of Earth received the Light!
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