injunctions to Fire and
Water, and to his Eyes that watched there, to bring him word at once of
any projected aggression on the part of the stranger.

Within the temple-hut, however, Ula awaited him. That was a pleasant
change. The beautiful, supple, satin-skinned Polynesian looked more
beautiful and more treacherous than ever that fateful evening. Her great
brown limbs, smooth and glossy as pearl, were set off by a narrow girdle
or waistband of green and scarlet leaves, twined spirally around her.
Armlets of nautilus shell threw up the dainty plumpness of her soft,
round forearm. A garland hung festooned across one shapely shoulder;
her bosom was bare or but half hidden by the crimson hibiscus that
nestled voluptuously upon it. As Tu-Kila-Kila entered, she lifted her
large eyes, and, smiling, showed two even rows of pearly white teeth. "My
master has come!" she cried, holding up both lissome arms with a gesture
to welcome him. "The great god relaxes his care of the world for a while.
All goes on well. He leaves his sun to sleep and his stars to shine, and
he retires to rest on the unworthy bosom of her, his mate, his meat, that
is honored to love him."

Tu-Kila-Kila was scarcely just then in a mood for dalliance. "The Queen
of the Clouds comes hither to-morrow," he answered, casting a somewhat
contemptuous glance at Ula's more dusky and solid charms. "I go to
seek her with the wedding gifts early in the morning. For a week she
shall be mine. And after that--" he lifted his tomahawk and brought it
down on a huge block of wood significantly.

Ula smiled once more, that deep, treacherous smile of hers, and showed
her white teeth even deeper than ever. "If my lord, the great god, rises
so early to-morrow," she said, sidling up toward him voluptuously, "to
seek one more bride for his sacred temple, all the more reason he should
take his rest and sleep soundly to-night. Is he not a god? Are not his
limbs tired? Does he not need divine silence and slumber?"

Tu-Kila-Kila pouted. "I could sleep more soundly," he said, with a snort,
"if I knew what my enemy, the Korong, is doing. I have set my Eyes to
watch him, yet I do not feel secure. They are not to be trusted. I shall
be happier far when I have killed and eaten him." He passed his hand
across his bosom with a reflective air. You have a great sense of
security toward your enemy, no doubt, when you know that he slumbers,
well digested, within you.

Ula raised herself o