out upon
the reef in shallow water. Half a dozen of his followers jumped after him
without hesitation, and brandished their weapons round their heads as
they advanced, in savage unison. But Felix, pretending hardly to notice
these hostile demonstrations, stepped boldly up toward his little pile
with great deliberation, though trembling inwardly, and proceeded before
their eyes to take a match from his box, which he displayed
ostentatiously, all glittering in the sun, to the foremost savage. The
leader stood by and watched him close with eyes of silent wonder. Then
Felix, kneeling down, struck the match on the box, and applied it, as it
lighted, to the dry leaves beside him.

A chorus of astonishment burst unanimously from the delighted natives as
the dry leaves leaped all at once into a tongue of flame, and the little
pile caught quickly from the fire in the vesta.

The leader looked hard at the two white faces, and then at the fire on
the beach, with evident approbation. "It is as Tu-Kila-Kila said," he
exclaimed at last with profound awe. "They are spirits from the sun, and
they carry with them pure fire in shining boxes."

Then, advancing a pace and pointing toward the canoe, he motioned Felix
and Muriel to take their seats within it with native savage politeness.
"Tu-Kila-Kila has sent for you," he said, in his grandest aristocratic
air, "for your chief is a gentleman. He wishes to receive you. He saw
your message-fire on the reef last night, and he knew you had come. He
has made you a very great Taboo. He has put you under protection of Fire
and Water."

The people in the boats, with one accord, shouted out in wild chorus, as
if to confirm his words, "Taboo! Taboo! Tu-Kila-Kila has said it! Taboo!
Taboo! Ware Fire! Ware Water!"

Though the dialect in which they spoke differed somewhat from that in use
in Fiji, Felix could still make out with care almost every word of what
the chief had said to him; and the universal Polynesian expression,
"Taboo," in particular, somewhat reassured him as to their friendly
intentions. Among remote heathen islanders like these, he felt sure, the
very word itself was far too sacred to be taken in vain. They would
respect its inviolability. He turned round to Muriel. "We must go with
them," he said, shortly. "It's our one chance left of life now. Don't be
too terrified; there is still some hope. They say somebody they call
Tu-Kila-Kila has tabooed us. No one will dare to hurt us