cone-shaped mountain in the centre, which was about a mile from
the lake shore, was much larger than I had thought, quite three
hundred feet high indeed, and with a very large circumference.
Further, its sides
evidently once had been terraced, and it was
on one of these broad terraces,
half-way up and facing towards
the rising sun, that the ruin-like remains were heaped. I
examined them through my glasses. Undoubtedly it was a cyclopean
ruin built of great blocks of coloured stone which seemed to have
been shattered by
earthquake or
explosion. There were the pillars
of a
mightygateway and the remains of walls.
I trembled with
excitement as I stared and stared. Could I not
get to the place and see for myself? I observed that from the
flat bush-clad land at the foot of the mountain, ran out what
seemed to be the residue of a stone pier which ended in a large
table-topped rock between two and three hundred feet across. But
even this was too far to reach by swimming, besides for aught I
knew there might be alligators in that lake. I walked up and down
its borders, till
presently I came to a path which led into a
patch of some
variety of cotton palm.
Following this path I discovered a boat-house thatched over
with palm leaves. Inside it were two good canoes with their
paddles, floating and tied to the stumps of trees by fibre ropes.
Instantly I made up my mind that I would
paddle to the island and
investigate. Just as I was about to step into one of the canoes
the light was cut off. Looking up I saw that a man was crouching
in the door-place of the boat-house in order to enter, and paused
guiltily.
"Friend-from-the-Sea" (that was the name that these islanders
had given to me), said the voice of Marama, "say--what are you
doing here?"
"I am about to take a row on the lake, Chief," I answered
carelessly.
"Indeed, Friend. Have we then treated you so badly that you are
tired of life?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Come out into the
sunlight, Friend, and I will explain to
you."
I hesitated till I saw Marama lifting the heavy
wooden spear he
carried and remembered that I was unarmed. Then I came out.
"What does all this mean, Chief?" I asked
angrily when we were
clear of the patch of cotton palm.
"I mean, Friend, that you have been very near to making a
longer journey than you thought. Have
patience now and listen to
me. I saw you leaving the village this morning and followed,
suspecting your purpose. Yes, I followed alone,
saying nothing to
the priests of Oro who
fortunately were away watching the
Bellower for their own reasons. I saw you searching out the
secrets of the mountain with those magic tubes that make things
big that are small, and things that are far off come near, and I
followed you to the canoes."
"All that is plain enough, Marama. But why?"
"Have I not told you, Friend-from-the-Sea, that yonder hill
which is called Orofena,
whence this island takes its name, is
sacred?"
"You said so, but what of it?"
"This: to set foot thereon is to die and, I suppose, great as
you are, you, too, can die like others. At least, although I love
you, had you not come away from that canoe I was about to
discover whether this is so."
"Then for what are the canoes used?" I asked with irritation.
"You see that flat rock, Friend, with the hole beyond, which is
the mouth of a cave that appeared only in the great storm that
brought you to our land? They are used to
convey offerings which
are laid upon the rock. Beyond it no man may go, and since the
beginning no man has ever gone."
"Offerings to whom?"
"To the Oromatuas, the spirits of the great dead who live
there."
"Oromatuas? Oro! It is always something to do with Oro. Who and
what is Oro?"
"Oro is a god, Friend, though it is true that the priests say
that above him there is a greater god called Degai, the Creator,
the Fate who made all things and directs all things."
"Very well, but why do you suppose that Oro, the servant of
Degai, lives in that mountain? I thought that he lived in a grove
yonder where your priests, as I am told, have an image of him."
"I do not know, Friend-from-the-Sea, but so it has been held
from the
beginning. The image in the grove is only visited by his
spirit from time to time. Now, I pray you, come back and before
the priests discover that you have been here, and forget that
there are any canoes upon this lake."
So, thinking it wisest, I turned the matter with a laugh and
walked away with him to the village. On our road I tried to
extract some more information but without success. He did not
know who built the ruin upon the mountain, or who destroyed it.
He did not know how the terraces came there. All he knew was that
during the
convulsion of Nature which resulted in the tidal wave
that had thrown our ship upon the island, the mountain had been
seen to
quiver like a tree in the wind as though within it great
forces were at work. Then it was observed to have risen a good
many more feet above the surface of the lake, as might be noted
by the water mark upon the shore, and then also the mouth of the
cave had appeared. The priests said that all this was because the
Oromatuas who dwelt there were
stirring, which portended great
things. Indeed great things had happened--for had we not arrived
in their land?
I thanked him for what he had told me, and, as there was
nothing more to be
learned, dropped the subject which was never
mentioned between us again, at least not for a long while. But in
my heart I determined that I would reach that mountain even
though to do so I must risk my life. Something seemed to call me
to the place; it was as though I were being drawn by a magnet.
As it happened, before so very long I did go to the mountain,
not of my own will but because I was obliged. It came about thus.
One night I asked Bastin how he was getting on with his
missionary work. He replied: Very well indeed, but there was one
great
obstacle in his path, the idol in the Grove. Were it not
for this
accursed image he believed that the whole island would
become Christian. I asked him to be more plain. He explained that
all his work was thwarted by this idol, since his converts
declared that they did not dare to be baptised while it sat there
in the Grove. If they did, the spirit that was in it would
bewitch them and perhaps steal out at night and murder them.
"The spirit being our friends the sorcerers," I suggested.
"That's it, Arbuthnot. Do you know, I believe those devilish
men sometimes offer human sacrifices to this satanic fetish, when
there is a
drought or anything of that sort."
"I can quite believe it," I answered, "but as they will
scarcely remove their god and with it their own
livelihood and
authority, I am afraid that as we don't want to be sacrificed,
there is nothing to be done."
At this moment I was called away. As I went I heard Bastin
muttering something about martyrs, but paid no attention. Little
did I guess what was going on in his pious but
obstinate mind. In
effect it was this--that if no one else would remove that idol he
was quite ready to do it himself.
However, he was very
cunning over that business, almost
Jesuitical indeed. Not one word did he breathe of his dark plans
to me, and still less to Bickley. He just went on with his
teaching, lamenting from time to time the stumbling-block of the
idol and expressing wonder as to how it might be circumvented by
a change in the hearts of the islanders, or
otherwise. Sad as it
is to record, in fact, dear old Bastin went as near to telling a
fib in
connection with this matter as I suppose he had ever done
in his life. It happened thus. One day Bickley's sharp eye caught
sight of Bastin walking about with what looked like a bottle of
whisky in his pocket.
"Hallo, old fellow," he said, "has the self-denying ordinance
broken down? I didn't know that you took pegs on the sly," and he
pointed to the bottle.
"If you are insinuating, Bickley, that I
absorb spirits
surreptitiously, you are more
mistaken than usual, which is
saying a good deal. This bottle contains, not Scotch whisky but
paraffin, although I admit that its label may have misled you,
unintentionally, so far as I am concerned."
"What are you going to do with the paraffin?" asked Bickley.
Bastin coloured through his tan and replied awkwardly:
"Paraffin is very good to keep away mosquitoes if one can stand
the smell of it upon one's skin. Not that I have brought it here
with that sole object. The truth is that I am
anxious to
experiment with a lamp of my own design made--um--of native
wood," and he
departed in a hurry.
"When next old Bastin wants to tell a lie," commented Bickley,
"he should make up his mind as to what it is to be, and stick to
it. I wonder what he is after with that paraffin? Not going to
dose any of my patients with it, I hope. He was arguing the other
day that it is a great
remedy taken internally, being quite
unaware that the lamp
variety is not used for that purpose."
"Perhaps he means to
swallow some himself, just to show that he
is right," I suggested.
"The stomach-pump is at hand," said Bickley, and the matter
dropped.
Next morning I got up before it was light. Having some
elementary knowledge of the main facts of
astronomy, which
remained with me from
boyhood when I had attended lectures on the
subject, which I had tried to
refresh by help of an encyclopedia
I had brought from the ship, I wished to attempt to
obtain an
idea of our position by help of the stars. In this
endeavour, I
may say, I failed
absolutely, as I did not know how to take a
stellar or any other observation.
On my way out of our native house I observed, by the
lantern I
carried, that the
compartment of it occupied by Bastin was empty,
and wondered whither he had gone at that hour. On arriving at my
observation-post, a rocky
eminence on open ground, where, with
Tommy at my side, I took my seat with a
telescope, I was
astonished to see or rather to hear a great number of the natives
walking past the base of the mound towards the bush. Then I
remembered that some one, Marama, I think, had informed me that
there was to be a great sacrifice to Oro at dawn on that day.
After this I thought no more of the matter but occupied myself in
a
futile study of the
heavenly bodies. At length the dawn broke
and put a period to my labours.
Glancing round me before I descended from the little hill, I
saw a flame of light appear suddenly about half a mile or more
away among those trees which I knew concealed the image of Oro.
On this
personally I had never had the
curiosity to look, as I
knew that it was only a
hideous idol stuck over with feathers and
other bedizenments. The flame shot suddenly straight into the
still air and was followed a few seconds later by the sound of a
dull
explosion, after which it went out. Also it was followed by
something else--a
scream of rage from an infuriated mob.
At the foot of the hill I stopped to wonder what these sounds
might mean. Then of a sudden appeared Bickley, who had been
attending some
urgent case, and asked me who was exploding
gunpowder. I told him that I had no idea.
"Then I have," he answered. "It is that ass Bastin up to some
game. Now I guess why he wanted that paraffin. Listen to the row.
What are they after?"
"Sacrificing Bastin, perhaps," I replied, half in jest. "Have
you your revolver?"
He nodded. We always wore our pistols if we went out during the