trative as collies. I began shortly to
look about for some simple miracle wherein the new goddess might
manifest herself as a deity of benefaction as well as of condign
punishment. The opportunity came in a fashion most unexpected and the
result hardly made for a reform of enlightenment. I was told that there
dwelt in stilt-supported villages of grass on the far side of the island
a warlike tribe, with whom my people were hostile.

My folk were bushmen and dreaded the sea, but these enemies were
salt-water men, who could with axe and adz scoop from the solid tree
outrigger canoes and who were terrible in their strength. Their king was
lord over several villages and about his house went (this they told me
with bated breath) a row of many round stones, and each stone stood for
an enemy slain and eaten. For many seasons there had been peace, but one
day there arrived at my plateau a delegation of grief-torn warriors. A
small village had been attacked and two heads taken to swell the row of
stones around the canoe house. They had now come to propitiate the deity
bearing fruits and exquisitely wrought spears. They besought the
forgiveness of my Gracious Lady, because they could offer no enemies'
flesh--the most god-satisfying of sacrifices. This omission, however,
they swore to remedy, if victory were permitted to hover over them in
fight. Among the most devout of the petitioners was Ra Tuiki, the aged
chief with white hair. They urged me to accompany them to their
principal village and lay the hand of blessing on their clubs and
spears.

Through dense tangles of palm and fern, mangrove and moss I was borne in
a rough hammock of fiber. Great soft-winged butterflies flapped across
the course of our march. Brilliant birds fluttered off, twittering and
screaming. I should have preferred walking, but my position prohibited
it. To condescend meant to become a mere man.

In their squalid villages of grass hovels I found filth and the
excitement of battle preparation. It was my first view of their home
life--and my last. I was taken to the house of a chief or sub-king, who
lay mortally hurt of an arrow wound, and who wished to have the blessing
of the highest priest that his spirit might take its course honorably,
and without curse, to the west. He lay on his mat dying, and was older
and more repulsive to the eye than Ra Tuiki. His ears had been
stretched by many huge ornaments, and the cartilage of his nose was torn
and ragged