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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



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