surely, they were
all prayers and promises and vows and entreaties."

The young man nodded his head in acquiescence. "Ah, yes; last night," he
answered. "That was very well then. Vows were sore needed. The storm was
raging, and you were within your taboo. How could they dare to touch you,
a mighty god of the tempest, at the very moment when you were rending
their banyan-trees and snapping their cocoanut stems with your mighty
arms like so many little chicken-bones? Even Tu-Kila-Kila himself, I
expect, the very high god, lay frightened in his temple, cowering by his
tree, annoyed at your wrath; he sent Fire and Water among the
worshippers, no doubt, to offer up vows and to appease your anger."

Then Felix remembered, as his Shadow spoke, that, as a matter of fact, he
had observed the men who usually wore the red and white feather cloaks
among the motley crowd of grovelling natives who lay flat on their faces
in the mud of the cleared space the night before, and prayed hard for
mercy. Only they were not wearing their robes of office at the moment, in
accordance with a well-known savage custom; they had come naked and in
disgrace, as befits all suppliants. They had left behind them the
insignia of their rank in their own shaken huts, and bowed down their
bare backs to the rain and the lightning.

"Yes, I saw them among the other islanders," Felix answered,
half-smiling, but prudently remaining within the taboo-line, as his
Shadow advised him.

Toko kept his hand still on his master's shoulder. "Oh, king," he said,
beseechingly, and with great solemnity, "I am doing wrong to warn you; I
am breaking a very great Taboo. I don't know what harm may come to me for
telling you. Perhaps Tu-Kila-Kila will burn me to ashes with one glance
of his eyes. He may know this minute what I'm saying here alone to you."

It is hard for a white man to meet scruples like this; but Felix was bold
enough to answer outright: "Tu-Kila-Kila knows nothing of the sort, and
can never find out. Take my word for it, Toko, nothing that you say to me
will ever reach Tu-Kila-Kila."

The Shadow looked at him doubtfully, and trembled as he spoke. "I like
you, Korong," he said, with a genuinely truthful ring in his voice. "You
seem to me so kind and good--so different from other gods, who are very
cruel. You never beat me. Nobody I ever served treated me as well or as
kindly as you have done. And for _your_ sake I will even dare to break
taboo--if you're