wished to translate their preaching into practice, was another

matter. It was not to be explained even by the fact of which he
himself had informed me, that during the dreadful storm of some

months before, the cave mouth which previously was not visible on
the volcano, had suddenly been lifted up above the level of the

Rock of Offerings, although, of course, all religious and
instructed persons would have expected something peculiar to

happen after this event.
Such I knew were his thoughts, but, as I have said, he was too

frightened and too hurried to express them in questions that I
should have found it extremely difficult to answer. As it was he

departed quite uncertain as to whether one of us was not the real
"god of the Mountain," who had power to bring hideous death upon

his molesters. After all, what had he to go on to the contrary,
except the word of three priests who were so terrified that they

could give no coherent account of what had happened? Of these
events, it was true, there was evidence in the twisted carcass of

their lamented high sorcerer, and, for the matter of that, of
certain corpses which he had seen, that lay in shallow water at

the bottom of the lake. Beyond all was vague, and in his heart I
am sure that Marama believed that Bastin was the real "god of the

Mountain." Naturally, he would desire to work vengeance on those
who tried to sacrifice and eat him. Moreover, had he not

destroyed the image of the god of the Grove and borne away its
head whence he had sucked magic and power?

Thus argued Marama, disbelieving the tale of the frightened
sorcerers, for he admitted as much to me in after days.

Marama departed in a great hurry, fearing lest the "god of the
Mountain," or Bastin, whose new and splendid garb he regarded

with much suspicion, might develop some evil energy against him.
Then we went back to our camp, leaving the industrious Bastin,

animated by a suggestion from Bickley that the fruit and food
might spoil if left in the sun, to carry it into the shade of the

cave. Owing to the terrors of the Orofenans the supply was so
large that to do this he must make no fewer than seven journeys,

which he did with great good will since Bastin loved physical
exercise. The result on his clerical garments, however, was

disastrous. His white tie went awry, squashed fruit and roast pig
gravy ran down his waistcoat and trousers, and his high collar

melted into limp crinkles in the moisture engendered by the
tropical heat. Only his long coat escaped, since that Bickley

kindly carried for him.
It was just as he arrived with the seventh load in this

extremely dishevelled condition that Oro and his daughter emerged
from the cave. Indeed Bastin, who, being shortsighted, always

wore spectacles that, owing to his heated state were covered with
mist, not seeing that dignitary, dumped down the last basket on

to his toes, exclaiming:
"There, you lazy beggar, I told you I would bring it all, and I

have."
In fact he thought he was addressing Bickley and playing off on

him a troglodytic practical joke.
Oro, however, who at his age did not appreciate jokes, resented

it and was about to do something unpleasant when with
extraordinary tact his daughter remarked:

"Bastin the priest makes you offerings. Thank him, O Lord my
father."

So Oro thanked him, not too cordially for evidently he still
had feeling in his toes, and once more Bastin escaped. Becoming

aware of his error, he began to apologise profusely in English,
while the lady Yva studied him carefully.

"Is that the costume of the priests of your religion, O
Bastin?" she asked, surveying his dishevelled form. "If so, you

were better without it."
Then Bastin retired to straighten his tie, and grabbing his

coat from Bickley, who handed it to him with a malicious smile,
forced his perspiring arms into it in a peculiarly awkward and

elephantine fashion.
Meanwhile Bickley and I produced two camp chairs which we had

made ready, and on these the wondrous pair seated themselves side
by side.

"We have come to learn," said Oro. "Teach!"
"Not so, Father," interrupted Yva, who, I noted, was clothed in

yet a third costume, though whence these came I could not
imagine. "First I would ask a question. Whence are you,

Strangers, and how came you here?"
"We are from the country called England and a great storm

shipwrecked us here; that, I think, which raised the mouth of the
cave above the level of this rock," I answered.

"The time appointed having come when it should be raised," said
Oro as though to himself.

"Where is England?" asked Yva.
Now among the books we had with us was a pocket atlas, quite a

good one of its sort. By way of answer I opened it at the map of
the world and showed her England. Also I showed, to within a

thousand miles or so, that spot on the earth's surface where we
spoke together.

The sight of this atlas excited the pair greatly. They had not
the slightest difficulty in understanding everything about it and

the shape of the world with its division into hemispheres seemed
to be quite familiar to them. What appeared chiefly to interest

them, and especially Oro, were the relative areas and positions
of land and sea.

"Of this, Strangers," he said, pointing to the map, "I shall
have much to say to you when I have studied the pictures of your

book and compared them with others of my own."
"So he has got maps," said Bickley in English, "as well as star

charts. I wonder where he keeps them."
"With his clothes, I expect," suggested Bastin.

Meanwhile Oro had hidden the atlas in his ample robe and
motioned to his daughter to proceed.

"Why do you come here from England so far away?" the Lady Yva
asked, a question to which each of us had an answer.

"To see new countries," I said.
"Because the cyclone brought us," said Bickley.

"To convert the heathen to my own Christian religion," said
Bastin, which was not strictly true.

It was on this. last reply that she fixed.
"What does your religion teach?" she asked.

"It teaches that those who accept it and obey its commands will
live again after death for ever in a better world where is

neither sorrow nor sin," he answered.
When he heard this saying I saw Oro start as though struck by a

new thought and look at Bastin with a curious intentness.
"Who are the heathen?" Yva asked again after a pause, for she

also seemed to be impressed.
"All who do not agree with Bastin's spiritual views," answered

Bickley.
"Those who, whether from lack of instruction or from hardness

of heart, do not follow the true faith. For instance, I suppose
that your father and you are heathen," replied Bastin stoutly.

This seemed to astonish them, but presently Yva caught his
meaning and smiled, while Oro said:

"Of this great matter of faith we will talk later. It is an old
question in the world."

"Why," went on Yva, "if you wished to travel so far did you