[Prisoners of Chance by Randall Parrish]@TWC D-Link bookPrisoners of Chance CHAPTER XXI 12/13
Above one were posed three rudely carven figures bearing a slight resemblance to giant eagles, their wings outspread as if for flight.
The other was surmounted by a hideous, grotesque figure, blackened as by fire, with distorted face daubed a glaring yellow, and long hair glittering from red pigment. Here the grass curtain had been drawn aside, while before the entrance, their faces striped with disfiguring black lines, their dull vestments trailing to the ground and gaudily trimmed with fanciful trappings, their coarse hair so trained as to stand almost erect, were two aged men, who, with wild gesticulations, and solemn chanting, were apparently paying adoration to the setting sun, the last beams streaming over them through a rift in the western wall. Directly past these priests we were driven like cattle, finding ourselves plunged into a vast square gloomy apartment, having an earthen floor, but utterly devoid of either furnishings or ornament. There was another mat-draped opening at the farther side, and in the centre a huge log smouldered, resting upon what bore the appearance of a rudely chipped altar of rock.
About this were ranged numerous fancifully painted statues of wood, grotesque and hideous, while a third figure, attired as were the aged priests without, lay prone upon the earth moaning as if in agony.
The walls were hung thickly with undressed skins of wild animals, and at the back stood a slightly upraised platform of logs, cut in halves by a narrow passageway leading toward the second curtained door.
It was in the midst of this we halted, still under strict surveillance of our brutal guards.
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