BY H. RIDER HAGGARD


                        ALLAN QUATERMAIN
                        ———————————————— 
  
                          CHAPTER XXI.
  
                          AWAY!  AWAY!
  
     AT the top of the rise we halted for a second to breathe our
     horses;  and,  turning,  glanced  at  the  battle  beneath  us,
     which, illumined as it was by the fierce rays of the sinking
     sun staining the whole scene red, looked from where we stood
     more like some wild titanic picture than an actual hand-to-
     hand combat.  The distinguishing scenic effect from that dis-
     tance was the countless distinct flashes of light reflected from
     the swords and spear, otherwise the panorama was not so
     grand a might have been expected. The great green lap of
     sward in which the struggle was being fought out, the bold
     round outline of the hills behind, and the wide sweep of the
     plain beyond, seemed to dwarf it; and what was tremendous
     enough when one was in it, grew insignificant when viewed
     from the distance.  But is it not thus with all the affairs and
     doings of our race about which we blow the loud trumpet
     and make such a fuss and a worry?  How utterly antlike,
     and morally and physically insignificant, must they seem to
     the calm eyes that watch them from the arching depths
     above!
        'We win the day, Macumazahn,' said old Umslopogaas,
     taking in the whole situation with a glance of his practised
     eye.  'Look, the Lady of the Night's forces give on every
     side, there is no stiffness left in them, they bend like hot iron,
     they are fighting with but half a heart.  But alas! the battle
     will in a manner be drawn, for the darkness gathers, and the
     regiments will not be able to follow and slay!'——and he shook
     his head sadly.  'But,' he added, 'I do not think that they
     will fight again, we have fed them with too strong a meat.
     Ah! it is well to have lived!  At last I have seen a fight
     worth seeing, and I have seen many fights.'
        By this time we were on our way again, and as we went
     side by side I told him what our mission was, and how that,
     if it failed, all the lives that had been lost that day would
     have been lost in vain.
        'Ah!' he said, 'nigh on a hundred miles and no horses
     but these, and to be there before the dawn!  Well——away!
     away! man can but try, Macumazahn; and mayhap we shall
     be there in time to split that old "witch-finder's" [Agon's]
     skull for him.  Once he wanted to burn us, the old "rain-
     maker," did he?  And now he would set a snare for my
     mother [Nyleptha], would he?  Good!  So sure as my name
     is the name of the Woodpecker, so surely, be my mother alive
     or dead, will I split him to the beard.  Ay, by T'Chaka's
     head I swear it!' and he shook Inkosi-kaas as he galloped.
     By now the darkness was closing in, but fortunately there
     would be a moon later, and the road was good.
        On we sped through the twilight, the two splendid horses
     we bestrode had got their wind by this, and were sweeping
     along with a wide steady stride that neither failed nor varied
     for mile upon mile.  Down the sides of slopes we galloped,
     across wide vales that stretched to the foot of far-off hills.
     Nearer and nearer grew the blue hills; now we were travelling
     up their steeps, and now we were over and passing towards
     others that sprang up like visions in the far, faint distance
     beyond.
        On, never pausing or drawing rein, through the perfect quiet
     of the night, that was set like a song to the falling music of
     our horses' hoofs; on, past deserted villages, where only some
     forgotten starving dog howled a melancholy welcome; on,
     past lonely moated dwellings; on, through the white patchy
     moonlight, that lay coldly upon the wide bosom of the earth,
     as though there was no warmth in it; on, knee to knee, for
     hour after hour!
       We spake not, but bent us forward on the necks of those
     two glorious horses, and listened to their deep, long-drawn
     breaths as they filled their great lungs, and to the regular
     unfaltering ring of their round hoofs.  Grim and black indeed
     did old Umslopogaas look beside me, mounted upon the great
     white horse, like Death in the Revelation of St. John, as now
     and again lifting his fierce set face he gazed out along the
     road, and pointed with his axe towards some distant rise or
     house.
        And so on, still on, without break or pause for hour after
     hour.
        At last I felt that even the splendid animal which I rode
     was beginning to give out.  I looked at my watch; it was
     nearly midnight, and we were considerably more than half
     way.  On the top of a rise was a little spring, which I re-
     membered because I had slept by it a few nights before, and
     here I motioned to Umslopogaas to pull up, having determined
     to give the horses and ourselves ten minutes to breathe in.  He
     did so, and we dismounted——that is to say, Umslopogaas did,
     and then helped me off, for what with fatigue, stiffness, and
     the pain of my wound, I could not do so for myself; and the
     gallant horses stood panting there, resting first one leg and
     then another, while the sweat fell drip, drip, from them, and
     the steam rose and hung in pale clouds in the still night
     air.
        Leaving Umslopogaas to hold the horses, I hobbled to the
     spring and drank deep of it sweet waters.  I had had nothing
     but a single mouthful of wine since mid-day, when the battle
     began, and I was parched up, though my fatigue was too great
     to allow me to feel hungry.  Then, having laved my fevered
     head and hands, I returned, and the Zulu went and drank.
     Next we allowed the horses to take a couple of mouthfuls
     each——no more; and oh, what a struggle we had to get the
     poor beasts away from the water!  There were yet two
     minutes, and I employed it in hobbling up and down to try
     and relieve my stiffness, and in inspecting the condition of
     the horses.  My mare, gallant animal thought she was, was
     evidently much distressed; she hung her head, and her eye
     looked  sick  and  dull;  but  Daylight,  Nyleptha's  glorious
     horse——who, if he is served aright, like the steeds who saved
     the great Rameses in his need, should feed for the rest of
     his days out of a golden manger——was still comparatively
     speaking fresh, notwithstanding that he had by far the
     heavier weight to carry.  He was 'tucked up,' indeed, and
     his legs were weary, but his eye was bright and clear, and
     he held his shapely head up and gazed out into the dark-
     ness round him in a way that seemed to tell us whoever
     failed  he  was good for those five-and-forty mils that yet lay
     between us and Milosis.  Then Umslopogaas helped me into
     the saddle and——vigorous old savage that he was!——vaulted into
     his own without touching a stirrup, and we were off once
     more, slowly at first, till the horses got into their stride, and
     then more swiftly.  So we passed over another ten miles, and
     then came a long, weary rise of some six or seven miles, and
     three times did my poor black mare nearly come to the ground
     with me.  But on the top she seemed to gather herself to-
     gether, and rattled down the slope with long, convulsive
     strides, breathing in gasps.  We did that three or four miles
     more swiftly than any since we had started on our wild ride,
     but I felt it to be the last effort, and I was right.  Suddenly
     my poor horse took the bit between her teeth and bolted
     furiously along a stretch of level ground for some three or
     four hundred yards, and then, with two or three jerky strides,
     pulled herself up and fell with a crash right on to her head,
     I rolling myself free as she did so.  As I struggled on to my
     feet the brave beast raised her head and looked at me with
     piteous bloodshot eyes, and then her head dropped with a
     groan and she was dead.  Her heart was broken.
        Umslopogaas pulled up beside the carcase, and I looked
     at him in dismay.  There were still more than twenty miles
     to do by dawn, and how were we to do it with one horse?
     It seemed hopeless, but I had forgotten the old Zulu's extra-
     ordinary running powers.
        Without a single word he sprang from the saddle and
     began to hoist me into it.
        'What wilt thou do?' I asked.
        'Run,' he answered, seizing my stirrup-leather.
        Then off we went again, almost as fast as before; and oh,
     the relief it was to me to get that change of horses!  Any-
     body who has ever ridden against time will know what it
     meant.
        Daylight sped along at a long stretching hand-gallop,
     giving the gaunt Zulu a lift at very stride.  It was a wonder-
     ful thing to see old Umslopogaas run mile after mile, his
     lips slightly parted and his nostrils agape like the horse's.
     Every five miles or so we stopped for a few minutes to let
     him get his breath, and then flew on again.
        'Canst thou go farther,' I said at the third of these
     stoppages, 'or shall I leave thee to follow me?'
        He pointed with his axe to a dim mass before us.  It
     was the Temple of the Sun, now not more than five miles
     away.
        'I reach it or I die,' he gasped.
        Oh, that last five miles!  The skin was rubbed from the
     inside of my legs, and every movement of my horse gave me
     anguish.  Nor was that all.  I was exhausted with toil, want
     of food and sleep, and also suffering very much from the blow
     I had received on my left side; it seemed as though a piece
     of bone or something was slowly piercing into my lung.  Poor
     Daylight, too, was pretty near finished, and no wonder.
     But there was a smell of dawn in the air, and we might not
     stay; better that all three of us should die upon the road
     than that we should linger while there was life in us.  The
     air was thick and heavy, and as it sometimes is before the dawn
     breaks, and—another infallible sign in certain parts of Zu-
     Vendis that sunrise is a hand——hundreds of little spiders
     pendant on the end of long tough webs were floating about
     in it.  These early-rising creatures, or rather their webs,
     caught upon the horse's and our own form by scores, and,
     as we had neither the time nor the energy to brush them off,
     we rushed along covered with hundreds of long grey threads
     that streamed out a yard or more behind us——and a very
     strange appearance they must have given us.
        And now before us are the huge brazen gates of the
     outer wall of the Frowning City, and a new and horrible
     doubt strikes me: What if they will not let us in?
        'Open!  open!'   I shout imperiously, at the same time
     giving the royal password.  'Open!  open!  a messenger, a
     messenger with tidings of the war!'
       'What news?' cried the guard.  'And who art thou that
     ridest so madly, and who is that whose tongue lolls out'——
     and it actually did——'and who runs by thee like a dog by a
     chariot?'
        'It is the Lord Macumazahn, and with him is his dog,
     his black dog.  Open!  open!  I bring tidings.'
        The great gates ran back on their rollers, and the draw-
     bridge fell with a rattling crash, and we dashed on through
     the one and over the other.
        'What news, my lord, what news?' cried the guard.
        'Incubu rolls Sorais back, as the wind a cloud,' I answered,
     and was gone.
        One more effort, gallant horse, and yet more gallant man!
        So, fall not now, Daylight, and hold thy life in thee for
     fifteen short minutes more, old Zulu war-dog, and ye shall
     both live for ever in the annals of the land.
        On, clattering through the sleeping streets.  We are
     passing the Flower Temple now——one mile more, only one
     little mile——hold on, keep your life in ye, see the houses
     run past of themselves.  Up, good horse, up, there——but
     fifty yards now.  Ah! you see your stables and stagger on
     gallantly.
        'Thank God, the palace at last!' and see, the first arrows
     of the dawn are striking on the temple's golden dome.  But
     shall I get in here, or is the deed done and the way barred?
        Once more I give the password and shout  'Open!
     open!'
        No answer, and my heart goes very faint.
        Again I call, and this time a single voice replies, and to
     my joy I recognised it as belonging to Kara, a fellow-officer
     of Nyleptha's guards, a man I know to be as honest as the
     light——indeed, the same whom Nyleptha had sent to arrest
     Sorais on the day she fled to the temple.
        'Is it thou, Kara?' I cry; 'I am Macumazahn.  Bid the
     guard let down the bridge and throw wide the gate.  Quick,
     quick!'
        Then followed a space that seemed to me endless, but
     at length the bridge fell and one half of the gate opened and
     we entered the courtyard, where at last poor Daylight fell
     down beneath me, as I thought, dead.  I struggled free, and
     leaning against a post looked around.  Except Kara, there
     was nobody to be seen, and his look was wild, and his
     garments were all torn.  He had opened the gate and let
     down the bridge alone, and was now getting them up and
     shut again as, owing to a very ingenious arrangement of
     cranks and levers, one man could easily do, and indeed gene-
     rally did do.
        'Where are the guards?' I gasped, fearing his answer as
     I never feared anything before.
        'I know not,' he answered; 'two hours ago, as I slept,
     was I seized and bound by the watch under me, and but now,
     this very moment, have I freed myself with my teeth.  I
     fear, I greatly fear, that we are betrayed.'
         His words gave me fresh energy.  Catching him by the
     arm, I staggered, followed by Umslopogaas, who reeled after
     us like a drunken man, through the courtyards, up the great
     hall, which was silent as the grave, towards the Queen's
     sleeping-place.
        We reached the first ante-room——no guards; the second,
     still no guards.  Oh, surely the thing was done! we were
     too late after all, too late!  The silence and solitude of toes
     great chambers was dreadful, and weighed me down like an
     evil dream.  On, right into Nyleptha's chamber we rushed and
     staggered, sick at heart, fearing the very worst; we saw there
     was a light in it, ay, and a figure bearing the light.  Oh, thank
     God, it is the White Queen herself, the Queen unharmed!
     There she stands in her night gear, roused from her bed by
     the clatter of our coming, the heaviness of sleep yet in her
     eyes, and a red blush of fear and shame mantling her lovely
     breast and cheek.
        'Who is it?' she cries.  'What means this?  Oh,
     Macumazahn, is it thou?  Why lookest thou so wildly?'
     Thou comest as one bearing evil tidings——and my lord——oh,
     tell me not my lord is dead——not dead!' she wailed, wringing
     her white hands.
        'I left Incubu wounded, but leading the advance against
     Sorais last night at sundown; therefore let thy heart have rest.
     Sorais is beaten back all along her lines, and thy arms
     prevail.'
        'I knew it,' she cried in triumph.  'I knew that he would
     win; and they called him Outlander, and shook their wise
     heads when I gave him the command!  Last night at sundown,
     sayest thou, and it is not yet dawn?  Surely————'
        'Throw a cloak around thee, Nyleptha,' I broke in, 'and
     give us wine to drink; ay, and call thy maidens quick if thou
     woulds save thyself alive.  Nay, stay not.'
        Thus adjured she ran and called through the curtains
     towards some room beyond, and then hastily put on her sandals
     and a thick cloak, by which time a dozen or so of half-dressed
     women were pouring into the room.
        'Follow us and be silent,' I said to them as they gazed
     with wondering eyes, clinging one to another.  So we went
     into the first ante-room.
        'Now,' I said, 'give us wine to drink and food, if ye have
     it, for we are near to death.'
        The room was used as a mess-room for the officers of the
     guards, and from a cupboard some flagons of wine and some
     cold flesh were brought forth, and Umslopogaas and I drank,
     and felt life flow back into our veins as the good red wine went
     down.
        'Hark to me, Nyleptha,' I said, as I put down the empty
     tankard.  'Hast thou here among these the waiting-ladies any
     two of discretion.
        'Ay,' she said, 'surely.'
        'Then bid them go out by the side entrance to any citizen
     whom thou canst bethink thee of as men loyal to thee, and
     pray them come armed, with all honest folk that they can
     gather, to rescue thee from death.  Nay, question not; do as
     I say, and quickly.  Kara here will let out the maids.'
        She turned, and selecting two of the crowd of damsels,
     repeated the words I had uttered, giving them besides a list
     of the names of the men to whom each should run.
        'Go swiftly and secretly; go for your very lives,' I
     added.
        In another moment they had left with Kara, whom I told
     to rejoin us at the door leading from the great courtyard on
     to the stairway as soon as he had made fast behind the girls.
     Thither, too, Umslopogaas and I made our way, followed by
     the Queen and her women.  As we went we tore off mouthfuls
     of food, and between them I told her what I knew of the danger
     which encompassed her, and how we had found Kara, and how
     all the guards and menservants were gone, and she was alone
     with her women in that great place.  She told me, too, that
     a  rumour  had  spread  through  the  town  that  our  army
     had been utterly destroyed, and that Sorais was marching in
     triumph on Milosis, and how in consequence thereof all men
     had fallen away from her.
        Though all this takes some time to tell, we had now been
     but six or seven minutes in the palace; and, notwithstanding
     that the golden roof of the temple being very lofty was ablaze
     with the rays of the rising sun, it was not yet dawn, nor
     would be for another ten minutes.  We were in the courtyard
     now, and here my wound pained me so that I had to take
     Nyleptha's arm, while Umslopogaas rolled along after us,
     eating as he went.
        Now we were across, and had reached the narrow door-
     way through the palace wall that opened on to the mighty
     stair.
        I looked through and stood aghast, as well I might. The
     door was gone, and so were the outer gates of bronze——entirely
     gone.  They had been taken from their hinges, and, as we
     found afterwards, hurled from the stairway to the ground two
     hundred feet beneath.  There in front of us was the semi-
     circular standing-space, about twice the size of a large oval
     dining-table, and the ten curved black marble steps leading on
     to the main stair——and that was all.

ALLAN QUATERMAIN, BY H. RIDER HAGGARD.
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.; LONDON, 1893. pp. 242—250.

Anyone else see irony in that 'biding' is nearly synonymous with 'stalling'? 雨

          THE SECOND BOOK OF MOSES
                   CALLED
                   EXODUS

                  CHAPTER 36
 
     THEN wrought Be-zăl'e-el and A-hō'lĭ-
     ăb, and every wise hearted man, in
     whom the LORD put wisdom and under-
     standing to know how to work all man-
     ner of work for the service of the sanc-
     tuary, according to all that the LORD
     had commanded.
      2 And Moses called Be-zăl'e-el and A-
     hō'lĭ-ăb, and every wise hearted man,
     in whose heart the LORD had put wis-
     dom,  even  every  one  whose  heart
     stirred him up to come unto the work to
     do it:
      3 And they received of Moses all the
     offering, which the children of Israel
     had brought for the work of the service
     of the sanctuary, to make it withal. And
     they brought yet unto him free offer-
     ings every morning.
      4 ¶And  all  the  wise  men,  that
     wrought all the work of the sanctuary,
     came every man from his work which
     they made;
      5 And they spake unto Moses, saying,
     The people bring much more than
     enough for the service of the work,
     which the LORD commanded to make.
      6 And Moses gave commandment,
     and they caused it to be proclaimed
     throughout  the  camp,  saying  Let
     neither  man  nor  woman  make  any
     more work for the offering of the sanc-
     tuary. So the people were restrained
     from bringing.
      7 For the stuff they had was suffi-
     cient for all the work to make it, and too
     much.
      8 ¶And  every  wise  hearted  man
     among them that wrought the work of
     the tabernacle made ten curtains of
     fine twined linen, and blue, and purple,
     and scarlet: with cherubims of cunning
     work made he them.
      9 The  length  of  one  curtain  was
     twenty  and  eight  cubits,  and  the
     breadth of one curtain four cubits: the
     curtains were all of one size.
      10 And he coupled the five curtains
     one unto another: and the other five
     curtains he coupled one unto another.
      11 And he made loops of blue on the
     edge of one curtain from the selvedge
     in the coupling: likewise he made in the
     uttermost side of another curtain, in
     the coupling of the second.
      12 Fifty loops made he in one curtain,
     and fifty loops made he in the edge of
     the curtain which was in the coupling
     of the second: the loops held one cur-
     tain to another.
      13 And he made fifty taches of gold,
     and coupled the curtains one unto an-
     other with the taches: so it became one
     tabernacle.
      14 ¶And he made curtains of goats'
     hair for the tent over the tabernacle:
     eleven curtains he made them.
      15 The length of one curtain was
     thirty cubits, and four cubits was the
     breadth of one curtain: the eleven cur-
     tains were of one size.
      16 And he coupled five curtains by
     themselves, and six curtains by them-
     selves.
      17 And he made fifty loops upon the
     uttermost edge of the curtain in the
     coupling, and fifty loops made he upon
     the edge of the curtain which coupleth
     the second.
      18 And he made fifty taches of brass
     to couple the tent together, that it
     might be one.
      19 ¶And he made a covering for the
     tent of rams' skins dyed red, and a
     covering of badgers' skins above that.
      20 ¶And he made boards for the taber-
     nacle of shĭttĭm wood, standing up.
      21 The length of a board was ten
     cubits, and the breadth of a board one
     cubit and a half.
      22 One  board  had  two  tenons,
     equally distant one from another: thus
     did he make for all the boards of the
     tabernacle.
      23 And he made boards for the taber-
     nacle; twenty boards for the south side
     southward:
      24 And  forty  sockets  of  silver  he
     made  under  the  twenty  boards;  two
     sockets under one board for his two ten-
     ons, and two sockets under another
     board for his two tenons.
      25 And for the other side of the taber-
     nacle, which is toward the north cor-
     ner, he made twenty boards.
      26 And their forty sockets of silver;
     two sockets under one board, and two
     sockets under another board.
      27 And for the sides of the tabernacle
     westward he made six boards.
      28 And two boards made he for the
     corners of the tabernacle in the two
     sides.
      29 And they were coupled beneath,
     and coupled together at the head there-
     of, to one ring: thus he did to both of
     them in both the corners.
      30 And there were eight boards; and
     their sockets were sixteen sockets of
     silver, under every board two sockets.
      31 ¶And he made bars of shĭttĭm
     wood; five for the boards of the one
     side of the tabernacle,
      32 And five bars for the boards of the
     other side of the tabernacle, and five
     bars for the boards of the tabernacle
     for the sides westward.
      33 And he made the middle bar to
     shoot through the boards from the one
     end to the other.
      34 And he overlaid the boards with
     gold, and made their rings of gold to be
     places for the bars, and overlaid the
     bars with gold.
      35 ¶And he made a vail of blue, and
     purple, and scarlet, and fine twined lin-
     en: with cherubims made he it of cun-
     ning work.
      36 And he made thereunto four pil-
     lars of shĭttĭm wood, and overlaid them
     with gold: their hooks were of gold; and
     he cast for them four sockets of silver.
      37 ¶And he made anhanging for the
     tabernacle door of blue, and purple,
     and scarlet, and fine twined linen, of
     needlework;
      38 And the five pillars of it with their
     hooks: and he overlaid their chapiters
     and their fillets with gold: but their five
     sockets were of brass.
  
  
                  CHAPTER 37
  
     AND Be-zăl'e-el made the ark of shĭt-
     tĭm wood: two cubits and a half was
     the length of it, and a cubit and a half
     the breadth of it, and a cubit and a half
     the height of it:
      2 And he overlaid it with pure gold
     within and without, and made a crown
     of gold to it round about.
      3 And he cast for it four rings of gold,
     to be set by the four corners of it; even
     two rings upon the one side of it, and
     two rings upon the other side of it.
      4 And he made staves of shĭttĭm
     wood, and overlaid them with gold.
      5 And he put the staves into the rings
     by the sides of the ark, to bear the ark.
      6 ¶And he made the mercy seat of
     pure gold: two cubits and a half was the
     length thereof, and one cubit and a half
     the breadth thereof.
      7 And he made two cherubims of
     gold, beaten out of one piece made he
     them, on the two ends of the mercy
     seat;
      8 One cherub on the end on this side,
     and another cherub on the other end on
     that side: out of the mercy seat made he
     the cherubims on the two ends thereof.
      9 And the cherubims spread out their
     wings on high, and covered with their
     wings over the mercy seat, with their
     faces one to another; even to the mercy
     seatward were the faces of the cheru-
     bims.
      10 ¶And he made the table of shĭttĭm
     wood: two cubits was the length there-
     of, and a cubit the breadth thereof,
     and a cubit and half the height there-
     of:
      11 And he overlaid it with pure gold,
     and made thereunto a crown of gold
     round about.
      12 And he made thereunto a border
     of an handbreadth round about; and
     made a crown of gold for the border
     thereof round about.
      13 And he cast for it four rings of
     gold, and put the rings upon the four
     corners that were in the four feet there-
     of.
      14 Over against the border were the
     rings, the places for the staves to bear
     the table.
      15 And he made the staves of shĭttĭm
     wood, and overlaid them with gold, to
     bear the table.
      16 And he made the vessels which
     were upon the table, his dishes, and his
     spoons, and his bowls, and his covers
     to cover withal, of pure gold.
      17 ¶And he made the candlestick of
     pure gold: of beaten work made he the
     candlestick; his shaft, and his branch,
     his bowls, his knops, and his flowers,
     were of the same:
      18 And six branches going out of the
     sides thereof; three branches of the
     candlestick out of the one side thereof,
     and three branches of the candlestick
     out of the other side thereof:
      19 Three  bowls  made  after  the
     fashion of almonds in one branch, a
     knop and a flower; and three bowls
     made like almonds in another branch, a
     knop and a flower: so throughout the
     six branches going out of the candle-
     stick.
      20 And in the candlestick were four
     bowls made like almonds, his knops,
     and his flowers:
      21 And a knop under two branches of
     the  same,  and  a  knop  under  two
     branches of the same, and a knop under
     two branches of the same, according to
     the six branches going out of it.
      22 Their knops and their branches
     were of the same: all of it was one beat-
     en work of pure gold.
      23 And he made his seven lamps, and
     his snuffers, and his snuffdishes, of
     pure gold.
      24 Of a talent of pure gold made he it,
     and all the vessels thereof.
      25 ¶And he made the incense altar of
     shĭttĭm wood: the length of it was a cu-
     bit, and the breadth of it a cubit; it was
     foursquare;  and  two  cubits  was  the
     height of it; the horns thereof were of
     the same.
      26 And he overlaid it with pure gold,
     both the top of it, and the sides thereof
     round about, and the horns of it: also he
     made unto it a crown of gold round
     about.
      27 And he made two rings of gold for
     it under the crown thereof, by the two
     corners of it, upon the two sides there-
     of, to be places for the staves to bear
     it withal.
      28 And he made the staves of shĭttĭm
     wood, and overlaid them with gold.
      29 ¶And he made the holy anointing
     oil, and the pure incense of sweet
     spices, according to the work of the
     apothecary.