A RASH RESOLVE.

The rest of that day was a time of profound and intense anxiety.  Felix and Muriel remained alone in their huts, absorbed in plans of escape, but messengers of many sorts from chiefs and gods kept continually coming to them.  The natives evidently regarded it as a period of preparation.  The Eyes of Tu-Kila-Kila surrounded their precinct; yet Felix couldn’t help noticing that they seemed in many ways less watchful than of old, and that they whispered and conferred very much in a mysterious fashion with the people of the village.  More than once Toko shook his head, sagely, “If only any one dared break the Great Taboo,” he said, with some terror on his face, “our people would be glad.  It would greatly please them.  They are tired of this Tu-Kila-Kila.  He has held the god in his breast far, far too long.  They would willingly see some other in place of him.”

Before noon, the young girls of the village, bringing native mats and huge strings of nautilus shells, trooped up to the hut, like bridesmaids, with flowers in their hands, to deck Muriel for her approaching wedding.  Before them they carried quantities of red and brown tappa-cloth and very fine net-work, the dowry to be presented by the royal bride to her divine husband.  Within the hut, they decked out the Queen of the Clouds with garlands of flowers and necklets of shells, in solemn native fashion, bewailing her fate all the time to a measured dirge in their own language.  Muriel could see that their sympathy, though partly conventional, was largely real as well.  Many of the young girls seized her hand convulsively from time to time, and kissed it with genuine feeling.  The gentle young English woman had won their savage hearts by her purity and innocence.  “Poor thing, poor thing,” they said, stroking her hand tenderly.  “She is too good for Korong!  Too good for Tu-Kila-Kila!  If only we knew the Great Taboo like the men, we would tell her everything.  She is too good to die.  We are sorry she is to be sacrificed!”

But when all their preparations were finished, the chief among them raised a calabash with a little scented oil in it, and poured a few drops solemnly on Muriel’s head.  “Oh, great god!” she said, in her own tongue, “we offer this sacrifice, a goddess herself, to you.  We obey your words.  You are very holy.  We will each of us eat a portion of her flesh at your feast.  So give us good crops, strong health, many children!”

“What does she say?” Muriel asked, pale and awestruck, of Mali.

Mali translated the words with perfect sang-froid.  At that awful sound Muriel drew back, chill and cold to the marrow.  How inconceivable was the state of mind of these terrible people!  They were really sorry for her; they kissed her hand with fervor; and yet they deliberately and solemnly proposed to eat her!

Toward evening the young girls at last retired, in regular order, to the clapping of hands, and Felix was left alone with Muriel and the Shadows.