. How tiny his little round figure looked
when seen from that tremendous height! The throne had been made for
longer-legged kings; and when he was seated, his feet did not reach the
ground but dangled six inches from the top step.

Then the old man turned round and looking up at the people began to
speak in a quiet even voice; but every word he said was easily heard in
the furthest corner of the Whispering Rocks.

First he recited the names of all the great Popsipetel kings who in days
long ago had been crowned in this ivory chair. He spoke of the greatness
of the Popsipetel people, of their triumphs, of their hardships. Then
waving his hand towards the Doctor he began recounting the things
which this king-to-be had done. And I am bound to say that they easily
outmatched the deeds of those who had gone before him.

As soon as he started to speak of what the Doctor had achieved for the
tribe, the people, still strictly silent, all began waving their right
hands towards the throne. This gave to the vast theatre a very singular
appearance: acres and acres of something moving--with never a sound.

At last the old man finished his speech and stepping up to the chair,
very respectfully removed the Doctor's battered high hat. He was about
to put it upon the ground; but the Doctor took it from him hastily and
kept it on his lap. Then taking up the Sacred Crown he placed it upon
John Dolittle's head. It did not fit very well (for it had been made for
smaller-headed kings), and when the wind blew in freshly from the sunlit
sea the Doctor had some difficulty in keeping it on. But it looked very
splendid.

Turning once more to the people, the old man said,

"Men of Popsipetel, behold your elected king!--Are you content?"

And then at last the voice of the people broke loose.

"JONG! JONG!" they shouted, "LONG LIVE KING JONG!"

The sound burst upon the solemn silence with the crash of a hundred
cannon. There, where even a whisper carried miles, the shock of it was
like a blow in the face. Back and forth the mountains threw it to one
another. I thought the echoes of it would never die away as it passed
rumbling through the whole island, jangling among the lower valleys,
booming in the distant sea-caves.

Suddenly I saw the old man point upward, to the highest mountain in
the island; and looking over my shoulder, I was just in time to see the
Hanging Stone topple slowly out of sight--down into the heart of the
volcano.

"