The children listened in excitement. What a strange happening it would be!

“Now these Mountain Folk are sun-worshippers,” said Captain Arnold. “It is quite plain that they have the custom of throwing unfortunate people over the mountain-side to sacrifice to the sun, when they want to please him, or ask him to grant a prayer. I am afraid that our little Paul has been chosen, and will be beyond our help tomorrow unless we do something. And now I see what we can do!”

“What?” cried everyone.

“Well, we will get Mafumu to explain to these people, when they next come up here, that I will kill the sun tomorrow, unless they set Paul free!” said Captain Arnold.

“How do you mean — kill the sun?” asked Nora in wonder.

“Well, to them, when the eclipse happens, it will seem as if the sun is being killed!” said Captain Arnold, smiling. “They won’t know that it is only the moon passing in front of the sun that is blocking out the light — they will really think I have done something to the sun they worship!”

“Oh, Captain Arnold — it sounds too good to be true!” cried Jack. “Won’t they be amazed? I wonder if they will set us all free if we do this.”

“Probably,” said Captain Arnold. “We can do our best, anyway. Now, I wonder if the Mountain Folk will come up at sunset tonight, and sing their mournful prayers!”

But, to everyone’s great disappointment, not a single person came. No word was heard of the little Prince. Nothing happened at all. Captain and Mrs. Arnold felt uneasy about Paul, but they did not tell the others.

“Probably there is a great hunt going on in the mountain for Ranni and Pilescu!” said Captain Arnold. “I do wonder what has happened to them. If only they have managed to slip out of the rock-entrance, and find help somewhere.”

The night passed. It was cold up on the mountain-top and everyone slept as usual muffled up in the soft warm rugs. The children missed Prince Paul and were sad when they thought of him. They knew he must be feeling very lonely and frightened all by himself, no matter how brave a face he put on when the Mountain Folk were there.

The dawn came, and the whole sky around was full of dancing silvery light.

“You can see such an enormous lot of sky from the top of a mountain,” said Mike, gazing all round. “Look — there comes the sun!”

The golden sun rose slowly into the sky and the children watched it. It was so beautiful that each child was filled with awe.

“It’s certainly the king of the sky!” said Mike. “I really am not surprised that these strange wild tribes worship the sun! Oh dear — I do miss Paul. I wonder where he is.”

They soon saw him again. Mike spied the trap-door slowly open in the middle of the big courtyard, and he called out to the others.

“Someone’s coming. Look!”

They all looked. The golden cage rose slowly through the space left by the trap-door, and in it the children could see the tall chief with his flaming red beard, two servants — and a small figure dressed in the most wonderful shimmering robes they had ever seen.

“Why — it’s Paul dressed like that!” cried Mike in amazement. “And look what he’s got on his head!”

Paul was certainly dressed in a very queer manner. He wore the shimmering golden garments down to his feet, and the flowing sleeves even covered his hands. On his head was a great head-dress made in the likeness of a glittering sun, with golden rays springing upwards.

The boy looked magnificent, and he walked very proudly. He had guessed that he was to be the servant of the sun, and he was afraid — but he was going to show Mike and the others that he was brave and courageous. He walked behind the chief, and sent a cheerful though rather quivery smile at his friends.

“Dear Paul. Good little Paul,” said Nora.

“I do feel proud of him,” said Mike, with a funny little break in his voice.

And then Captain Arnold stepped forward and shouted in such a tremendous voice that everyone jumped.

“Stop! I command you to stop!”

The tall chief stopped in his walk and glared round at Captain Arnold. He did not understand the words that the captain said — but he understood their meaning. There was no mistaking that at all!

“Come here Mafumu,” commanded Captain Arnold. The little boy came to him, trembling. “Tell the chief that I will kill the sun if he does anything to Paul,” said the Captain. Mafumu did not understand, so Jack explained as best he could in simple words.

Mafumu nodded. He knelt down before the chief, and banged his forehead on the ground before him.

Mafumu cried out some strange words to the chief, and then banged his forehead on the ground again. The chief frowned and looked at Captain Arnold. He said something sharp to Mafumu.

“Chief say no, Captain will not kill sun,” said the little boy. “He say that when the sun is high, high, high, Paul will go to the sun.”

“When the sun is high,” repeated Captain Arnold. “That means noon — twelve o’clock — and the eclipse is due at about a quarter to. Well — that will just about do it! Tell the chief I will kill the sun unless he sets us all free, Mafumu,”

But the chief laughed in their faces. He set off towards the tower of the temple, Paul following behind in his shimmering robes. Everyone watched them go — and how the children hoped that the eclipse of the sun would actually happen. It seemed too strange a thing to be really true.

The little company of prisoners were not allowed to go into the temple that morning. The two servants stood at the door and prevented anyone from entering. Mike could see the figure of Paul up on the tower with the tall chief, who was muttering and chanting all kinds of weird words to the sun. Paul waved to Mike once, and Mike waved back.

“It’s all right, Paul. You needn’t be afraid,” shouted Mike. “We’re going to save you!”

But the wind took away his words and Paul did not hear. He stood there bravely, the wonderful head-dress he was wearing shining and glinting in the sun.

As the sun rose higher and the day grew hotter, Captain Arnold and the rest of his party found what shade they could. There was always a big wind blowing on the summit of the high mountain, but even so the rays of the sun as it rose high were flaming hot.

At about eleven o’clock the great golden door slid open, and an enormous company of Mountain Folk came singing up the shining stairway. They were dressed in shimmering robes rather like Paul’s, and looked marvellous as they trooped out on to the great courtyard. Their faces were yellower than ever, and the men’s beards had been freshly dyed and flamed like fire.

They ranged themselves over the courtyard and then began to dance a strange dance. Their feet stamped, their robes swung and shimmered, their voices rose and fell in a queer chant.

“A sort of sun dance,” said Captain Arnold. Everyone was worried and anxious, but they could not help marvelling as they watched the curious sun-worshippers performing their extraordinary dance.

Captain Arnold glanced at his watch. It was half-past eleven. He looked anxiously up at the sun, which was almost at its highest point. No moon could be seen, of course, for the sun was so bright. But it was there all right, travelling through the sky.

An enormous gong boomed out from the temple. One of the servants of the chief was sounding it. The children had seen it there, but there had been nothing to bang it with — and now it was sounding over the mountain-top, booming its great solemn note all around. The valleys below took up the note and threw it back — and soon, from everywhere around, the echoes came back until it seemed as if the whole earth and sky were filled with the booming of the gong.

At once all the sun-worshippers fell on their knees. The chief waited until the sound of the gong had died away and then he spoke in a loud voice. He brought Prince Paul forward, and the boy stood there on the temple tower, his robes blowing and shining in the wind.