essel take
Jani and me away, away, to Queensland. Big sea; long voyage. We stop
there three yam--three years--do service; then great chief in Queensland
send us back to my island. My island too faraway; gentleman on ship not
find it out; so he land us in little boat on Boupari. Boupari people make
temple slave of us." And that was all; to her quite a commonplace,
everyday history.

"I see," Muriel cried. "Then you've been for three years in Australia!
And there you learned English. Why, what did you do there?"

Mali looked back at her with the same matter-of-fact air of composure as
before. "Oh, me nurse at first," she said, shortly. "Then after, me
housemaid, live three year in gentleman's house, good gentleman that buy
me. Take care of little girl; clean rooms; do everything. Me know how to
make English lady quite comfortable. Me tell that to chief; that make him
say, 'Mali, you be Queenie's Shadow.'"

To Muriel in her loneliness even such companionship as that was indeed a
consolation. "Oh, I'm so glad you told him," she cried. "If we have to
stop here long, before a ship takes us off, it'll be so nice to have you
here all the time with me. You won't go away from me ever, will you?
You'll always stop with me!"

The girl's surprise showed more profoundly than ever. "Me can't go
away," she answered, with emphasis. "Me your Shadow. That great Taboo.
Tu-Kila-Kila great god. If me go away, Tu-Kila-Kila kill me and eat me."

Muriel started back in horror. "But, Mali," she said, looking hard at the
girl's pleasant brown face, "if you were three years in Australia, you're
a Christian, surely!"

The girl nodded her head in passive acquiescence. "Me Christian in
Australia," she answered. "Of course me Christian. All folks make
Christian when him go to Queensland. That what for me call Mali, and my
sister Jani. We have other names on my own island; but when we go to
Queensland, gentleman baptize us, call us Mali and Jani. Me Methodist in
Queensland. Methodist very good. But Methodist god no live in Boupari.
Not any good be Methodist here any longer. Tu-Kila-Kila god here. Him
very powerful."

"What! Not that dreadful creature that they took us to see this morning!"
Muriel exclaimed, in horror. "Oh, Mali, you can't mean to say they think
he's a _god_, that awful man there!"

Mali nodded her assent with profound conviction. "Yes, yes; him god," she
repeated, confidently. "Him very powerful. My sister Jani go too near him