he top of a little crag of volcanic rock, in the center of the
hills, he came suddenly upon a hut with a cleared space around it,
somewhat neater in appearance than any of the native cottages he had yet
seen, and surrounded by a broad white belt of coral sand, exactly like
that which ringed round and protected their own enclosure. But what
specially attracted Felix's attention was the fact that the space outside
this circle had been cleared into a regular flower-garden, quite European
in the definiteness and orderliness of its quaint arrangement.

"Why, who lives here?" Felix asked in Polynesian, turning round in
surprise to his respectful Shadow.

The Shadow waved his hand vaguely in an expansive way toward the sky, as
he answered, with a certain air of awe, often observable in his speech
when taboos were in question, "The King of Birds. A very great god. He
speaks the bird language."

"Who is he?" Felix inquired, taken aback, wondering vaguely to himself
whether here, perchance, he might have lighted upon some stray and
shipwrecked compatriot.

"He comes from the sun like yourselves," the Shadow answered, all
deference, but with obvious reserve. "He is a very great god. I may not
speak much of him. But he is not Korong. He is greater than that, and
less. He is Tula, the same as Tu-Kila-Kila."

"Is he as powerful as Tu-Kila-Kila?" Felix asked, with intense interest.

"Oh, no, he's not nearly so powerful as that," the Shadow answered, half
terrified at the bare suggestion. "No god in heaven or earth is like
Tu-Kila-Kila. This one is only king of the birds, which is a little
province, while Tu-Kila-Kila is king of heaven and earth, of plants
and animals, of gods and men, of all things created. At his nod the sky
shakes and the rocks tremble. But still, this god is Tula, like
Tu-Kila-Kila. He is not for a year. He goes on forever, till some other
supplants him."

"You say he comes from the sun," Felix put in, devoured with curiosity.
"And he speaks the bird language? What do you mean by that? Does he speak
like the Queen of the Clouds and myself when we talk together?"

"Oh, dear, no," the Shadow answered, in a very confident tone. "He
doesn't speak the least bit in the world like that. He speaks shriller
and higher, and still more bird-like. It is chatter, chatter, chatter,
like the parrots in a tree; tirra, tirra, tirra; tarra, tarra, tarra; la,
la, la; lo, lo, lo; lu, lu, lu; li la. And he sings to himself all