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.
"We knew that you were coming," said Marama. "Our doctors told us all about you a moon ago. But we wish that you would come more gently, as you nearly washed away our country."
After looking at me Bickley replied:
"How thankful should you be that in our kindness we have spared you."
"What do you come to do?" inquired Marama again. After the usual formula of consulting me Bickley answered:
"We come to take that mountain (he meant lump) off your neck and make you beautiful; also to cure all the sickness among your people."
"And I come," broke in Bastin, "to give you new hearts."
These announcements evidently caused great excitement. After consultation Marama answered:
"We do not want new hearts as the old ones are good, but we wish to be rid of lumps and sicknesses. If you can do this we will make you gods and worship you and give you many wives." (Here Bastin held up his hands in horror.) "When will you begin to take away the lumps?"
"To–morrow," said Bickley. "But learn that if you try to harm us we will bring another wave which will drown all your country."
Nobody seemed to doubt our capacities in this direction, but one inquiring spirit in a wicker crate did ask how it came about that if we controlled the ocean we had arrived in half a canoe instead of a whole one.
Bickley replied to the effect that it was because the gods always travelled in half–canoes to show their higher nature, which seemed to satisfy everyone. Then we announced that we had seen enough of them for that day and would retire to think. Meanwhile we should be obliged if they would build us a house and keep us supplied with whatever food they had.
"Do the gods eat?" asked the sceptic again.
"That fellow is a confounded radical," I whispered to Bickley. "Tell him that they do when they come to Orofena."
He did so, whereon the chief said:
"Would the gods like a nice young girl cooked?"
At this point Bastin retired down the path, realising that he had to do with cannibals. We said that we preferred to look at the girls alive and would meet them again to–morrow morning, when we hoped that the house would be ready.
So our first interview with the inhabitants of Orofena came to an end, on which we congratulated ourselves.
On reaching the remains of the Star of the South we set to work to take stock of what was left to us. Fortunately it proved to be a very great deal. As I think I mentioned, all the passenger part of the yacht lay forward of the bridge, just in front of which the vessel had been broken in two, almost as cleanly as though she were severed by a gigantic knife. Further our stores were forward and practically everything else that belonged to us, even down to Bickley's instruments and medicines and Bastin's religious works, to say nothing of a great quantity of tinned food and groceries. Lastly on the deck above the saloon had stood two large lifeboats. Although these were amply secured at the commencement of the gale one of them, that on the port side, was smashed to smithers; probably some spar had fallen upon it. The starboard boat, however, remained intact and so far as we could judge, seaworthy, although the bulwarks were broken by the waves.