the taboo line to them, nor they to
you: all shall be neutral. Food shall be laid by the line, as always,
morn, noon, and night; and your Shadows shall take it in; but you shall
not come out. Neither shall you bury the body of Lavita, the son of Sami.
Till the canoe comes back it shall lie in the sun and rot there."

He clapped his hands twice.

In a moment a tom-tom began to beat from behind, and the people all
crowded without the circle. The King of Fire came forward ostentatiously
and made taboo. "If, any man cross this line," he said in a droning
sing-song, "till the canoe return from the great oracle of our faith on
Aloa Mauna, I, Fire, will scorch him into cinder and ashes. If any woman
transgress, I will pitch her with palm oil, and light her up for a lamp
on a moonless night to lighten this temple."

The King of Water distributed shark's-tooth spears. At once a great
serried wall hemmed in the Europeans all round, and they sat down to
wait, the three whites together, for the upshot of the mission to Aloa
Mauna.

And the dawn now gleamed red on the eastern horizon.

CHAPTER XXXI.

AT SEA: OFF BOUPARI.

Thirteen days out from Sydney, the good ship Australasian was nearing the
equator.

It was four of the clock in the afternoon, and the captain (off duty)
paced the deck, puffing a cigar, and talking idly with a passenger on
former experiences.

Eight bells went on the quarter-deck; time to change watches.

"This is only our second trip through this channel," the captain
said, gazing across with a casual glance at the palm-trees that
stood dark against the blue horizon. "We used to go a hundred miles
to eastward, here, to avoid the reefs. But last voyage I came
through this way quite safely--though we had a nasty accident on the
road--unavoidable--unavoidable! Big sea was running free over the
sunken shoals; caught the ship aft unawares, and stove in better than
half a dozen portholes. Lady passenger on deck happened to be leaning
over the weather gunwale; big sea caught her up on its crest in a jiffy,
lifted her like a baby, and laid her down again gently, just so, on the
bed of the ocean. By George, sir, I was annoyed. It was quite a romance,
poor thing; quite a romance; we all felt so put out about it the rest
of that voyage. Young fellow on board, nephew of Sir Theodore Thurstan,
of the Colonial Office, was in love with Miss Ellis--girl's name was
Ellis--father's a parson somewhere down in S