"This is all very interesting," I said to Bickley."What do you make of it?""I don't quite know.At first sight I should say that we are standing on the lip of a crater of some vast extinct volcano.
Look how it curves to north and south and at the slope running down to the lake."I nodded.
"Lucky that the tidal wave did not get over the cliff," I said.
"If it had the people here would have all been drowned out.Iwonder where they have gone?"
As I spoke Bastin pointed to the edge of the bush some hundreds of yards away, where we perceived brown figures slipping about among the trees.I suggested that we should go back to the mouth of our path, so as to have a line of retreat open in case of necessity, and await events.So we did and there stood still.By degrees the brown figures emerged on to the plain to the number of some hundreds, and we saw that they were both male and female.
The women were clothed in nothing except flowers and a little girdle; the men were all armed with wooden weapons and also wore a girdle but no flowers.The children, of whom there were many, were quite naked.
Among these people we observed a tall person clothed in what seemed to be a magnificent feather cloak, and, walking around and about him, a number of grotesque forms adorned with hideous masks and basket-like head-dresses that were surmounted by plumes.
"The king or chief and his priests or medicine-men! This is splendid," said Bickley triumphantly.
Bastin also contemplated them with enthusiasm as raw material upon which he hoped to get to work.
By degrees and very cautiously they approached us.To our joy, we perceived that behind them walked several young women who bore wooden trays of food or fruit.
"That looks well," I said."They would not make offerings unless they were friendly.""The food may be poisoned," remarked Bickley suspiciously.
The crowd advanced, we standing quite still looking as dignified as we could, I as the tallest in the middle, with Tommy sitting at my feet.When they were about five and twenty yards away, however, that wretched little dog caught sight of the masked priests.He growled and then rushed at them barking, his long black ears flapping as he went.
The effect was instantaneous.One and all they turned and fled precipitately, who evidently had never before seen a dog and looked upon it as a deadly creature.Yes, even the tall chief and his masked medicine-men fled like hares pursued by Tommy, who bit one of them in the leg, evoking a terrific howl.I called him back and took him into my arms.Seeing that he was safe for a while the crowd reformed and once again advanced.
As they came we noted that they were a wonderfully handsome people, tall and straight with regularly shaped features and nothing of the negro about them.Some of the young women might even be called beautiful, though those who were elderly had become corpulent.The feather-clothed chief, however, was much disfigured by a huge growth with a narrow stalk to it that hung from his neck and rested on his shoulder.
"I'll have that off him before he is a week older," said Bickley, surveying this deformity with great professional interest.
On they came, the girls with the platters walking ahead.On one of these were what looked like joints of baked pork, on another some plantains and pear-shaped fruits.They knelt down and offered these to us.We contemplated them for a while.Then Bickley shook his head and began to rub his stomach with appropriate contortions.Clearly they were quick-minded enough for they saw the point.At some words the girls brought the platters to the chief and others, who took from them portions of the food at hazard and ate them to show that it was not poisoned, we watching their throats the while to make sure that it was swallowed.Then they returned again and we took some of the food though only Bickley ate, because, as I pointed out to him, being a doctor who understood the use of antidotes; clearly he should make the experiment.However, nothing happened; indeed he said that it was very good.
After this there came a pause.Then suddenly Bastin took up his parable in the Polynesian tongue which--to a certain extent--he had acquired with so much pains.
"What is this place called?" he asked slowly and distinctly, pausing between each word.
His audience shook their heads and he tried again, putting the accents on different syllables.Behold! some bright spirit understood him and answered:
"Orofena."
"That means a hill, or an island, or a hill in an island,"whispered Bickley to me.
"Who is your God?" asked Bastin again.
The point seemed one upon which they were a little doubtful, but at last the chief answered, "Oro.He who fights.""In other words, Mars," said Bickley.
"I will give you a better one," said Bastin in the same slow fashion.
Thinking that he referred to himself these children of Nature contemplated his angular form doubtfully and shook their heads.
Then for the first time one of the men who was wearing a mask and a wicker crate on his head, spoke in a hollow voice, saying:
"If you try Oro will eat you up."
"Head priest!" said Bickley, nudging me."Old Bastin had better be careful or he will get his teeth into him and call them Oro's."Another pause, after which the man in a feather cloak with the growth on his neck that a servant was supporting, said:
"I am Marama, the chief of Orofena.We have never seen men like you before, if you are men.What brought you here and with you that fierce and terrible animal, or evil spirit which makes a noise and bites?"Now Bickley pretended to consult me who stood brooding and majestic, that is if I can be majestic.I whispered something and he answered:
"The gods of the wind and the sea."
"What nonsense," ejaculated Bastin, "there are no such things.""Shut up," I said, "we must use similes here," to which he replied:
"I don't like similes that tamper with the truth.""Remember Neptune and Aeolus," I suggested, and he lapsed into consideration of the point.
