," cried the priests of the fallen god. But to show that
the god was just a log of wood, the teachers took a bunch of bananas,
placed them on the ashes where the fire had died down, and roasted
them. Then they sat down and ate the bananas.

The watching, awe-struck people looked to see the teachers fall dead,
but nothing happened. The islanders then began to wonder whether,
after all, the God of Papeiha was not the true God. Within a year they
had got together hundreds of their wooden idols, and had burned them
in enormous bonfires which flamed on the beach and lighted up the dark
background of trees. Those bonfires could be seen far out across the
Pacific Ocean, like a beacon light.

To-day the flames of love which Papeiha bravely lighted, through
perils by water and club and cannibal feast, have shone right across
the ocean, and some of the grandchildren of those very Rarotongans who
were cannibals when Papeiha went there, have sailed away, as we shall
see later on, to preach Papeiha's gospel of the love of God to the
far-off cannibal Papuans on the steaming shores of New Guinea.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 16: P[)a]-pay-ee-h[)a].]

[Footnote 17: Tay-ee-ay: ta-oo-a: fay-noo-[)a]: nay-ee.]

[Footnote 18: Va-hee-nay-ee-n[=o].]

[Footnote 19: M[)a]-kay-[)a].]

[Footnote 20: T[)a]-p[=a]-ee-roo.]

CHAPTER VII

THE DAYBREAK CALL

_John Williams_ (Date of Incident, 1839)

Two men leaned on the rail of the brig _Camden_ as she swept slowly
along the southern side of the Island of Erromanga in the Western
Pacific. A steady breeze filled her sails. The sea heaved in long,
silky billows. The red glow of the rising sun was changing to the
full, clear light of morning.

The men, as they talked, scanned the coast-line closely. There was the
grey, stone-covered beach, and, behind the beach, the dense bush and
the waving fronds of palms. Behind the palms rose the volcanic hills
of the island. The elder man straightened himself and looked keenly to
the bay from which a canoe was swiftly gliding.

He was a broad, sturdy man, with thick brown hair over keen watchful
eyes. His open look was fearless and winning. His hands, which grasped
the rail, had both the strength and the skill of the trained mechanic
and the writer. For John Williams could build a ship, make a boat and
sail them both against any man in all the Pacific. He could work with
his hammer at the forge in the morning, make a table at his joiner's
bench