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 of rock and entwined it with green wreaths. Again it thundered to the south.

“It is his will, children!” said Zakhar. “Wind the ropes about him! And you others, quickly, take the spades! Dig around the base and place the timbers. Quickly, children, quickly!”

Rapidly, noiselessly, toiled tens of pairs of arms by the Sentinel. At the top it was being entwined with cordage and at the bottom spaded up at its foundation. In this ditch fir timbers, which were to serve as levers, were placed at right angles to help loosen and knock the stone column down across the corridor. Swiftly the efficient youths made all the necessary preparations, took away the ladders and placed thick blocks of stone beneath the wooden levers.

“Take hold of the ropes all of you who can reach them! The youths take hold of the levers!” commanded Zakhar and at once a hundred hands were set to the task.

“Come, all together, pull!” cried Zakhar. “Pull! Pull!”

The people grunted with the effort, the levers of solid timber squeaked and creaked but the stone did not even budge.

“Once more! Pull harder!” shouted Zakhar and himself laid hold of the rope. The huge stone swayed a little.

“It’s moving, it’s moving!” the people cried exultantly.

“Again! Pull with all your might!”

Once more the people grunted with the effort and all at once the pull of the ropes slackened, the huge stone swayed at its foundation a moment and then with a deafening crash fell across the stream of water, blocking the entrance. The Tukholian valley groaned and trembled from the force of the blow, the pearly drops of water splashed high in all directions and the joyous outcry of the Tukholians filled the air.

The Mongolian army peacefully sleeping in its camp was rudely wakened, the guards screamed, the officers barked commands, weapons clanged, but in a moment all was still again.