And then the music started--music without sound! The Mahars cannot
hear, so the drums and fifes and horns of earthly bands are unknown
among them. The "band" consists of a score or more Mahars. It
filed out in the center of the arena where the creatures upon the
rocks might see it, and there it performed for fifteen or twenty
minutes.

Their technic consisted in waving their tails and moving their
heads in a regular succession of measured movements resulting in a
cadence which evidently pleased the eye of the Mahar as the cadence
of our own instrumental music pleases our ears. Sometimes the band
took measured steps in unison to one side or the other, or backward
and again forward--it all seemed very silly and meaningless to me,
but at the end of the first piece the Mahars upon the rocks showed
the first indications of enthusiasm that I had seen displayed by
the dominant race of Pellucidar. They beat their great wings up
and down, and smote their rocky perches with their mighty tails
until the ground shook. Then the band started another piece, and
all was again as silent as the grave. That was one great beauty
about Mahar music--if you didn't happen to like a piece that was
being played all you had to do was shut your eyes.

When the band had exhausted its repertory it took wing and settled
upon the rocks above and behind the queen. Then the business of
the day was on. A man and woman were pushed into the arena by a
couple of Sagoth guardsmen. I leaned forward in my seat to scrutinize
the female--hoping against hope that she might prove to be another
than Dian the Beautiful. Her back was toward me for a while, and
the sight of the great mass of raven hair piled high upon her head