No sooner did the prolonged low of a cow break like distant thunder on the ear, or the sharp cry of the sparrow-hawk shoot like a flash of lightning through the nerves of the worshippers, than each crouching form bent lower still, and touched the pavement with his forehead.

On a portion of this pavement, raised above the rest, stood the priests, some wearing ostrich-feathers on their bald and shining heads; others panther-skins over their white-robed shoulders.

Muttering and singing, bowing low and rising again, they swung the censers and poured libations of pure water to the gods out of golden vessels.

In this immense temple man seemed a dwarf in his own eyes.

All his senses even to the organs of respiration, were occupied by objects far removed from daily life, objects that thrilled and almost oppressed him.
Snatched from all that was familiar in his daily existence, he seemed to grow dizzy and seek support beyond himself.