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The Election
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Indian merely shook his head and pointed, like the bearers, to the waiting chair.
At last, almost in tears, John Dolittle stepped slowly into the litter and sat down. As he was hoisted on to the broad shoulders of the bearers I heard him still feebly muttering beneath his breath,
"Botheration take it!—I don't want to be a king!"
"Farewell!"called Long Arrow from his bed, "and may good fortune ever stand within the shadow of your throne!"
"He comes!—He comes!" murmured the crowd. "Away! Away!—To the Whispering Rocks!"
And as the procession formed up to leave the village, the crowd about us began hurrying off in the direction of the mountains to make sure of good seats in the giant theatre where the crowning ceremony would take place.
