As he spoke, the light from Felix’s fire blazed out against the dark sky, stronger and clearer still; and through that cloudless tropical air the figure of a man, standing for one moment between the flames and the lagoon, became distinctly visible to the keen and practised eyes of the savages.  “I see them?  I see them; I see the victims!” the foremost worshipper exclaimed, rushing forward a little at the sight, and beside himself with superstitious awe and surprise at Tu-Kila-Kila’s presence.  “Surely our god is great!  He knows all things!  He brings us meat from the setting sun, in ships of fire, in blazing canoes, across the golden road of the sun-bathed ocean!”

As for Tu-Kila-Kila himself, leaning on his elbow at ease, he gazed across at the unexpected sight with very languid interest.  He was a god, and he liked to see things conducted with proper decorum.  This crowing and crying over a couple of spirits—­mere ordinary spirits come ashore from the sun in a fiery boat—­struck his godship as little short of childish.  “Let them be,” he answered, petulantly, crushing a blossom in his hand.  “Let no man disturb them.  They shall rest where they are till to-morrow morning.  We have eaten; we have drunk; our soul is happy.  The kava within us has made us like a god indeed.  I shall give my ministers charge that no harm happen to them.”

He drew a whistle from his side and whistled once.  There was a moment’s pause.  Then Tu-Kila-Kila spoke in a loud voice again.  “The King of Fire!” he exclaimed, in tones of princely authority.

From within the hut there came forth slowly a second stalwart savage, big built and burly as the great god himself, clad in a long robe or cloak of yellow feathers, which shone bright with a strange metallic gleam in the ruddy light of the huge pile of li-wood.

“The King of Fire is here, Tu-Kila-Kila,” the lesser god made answer, bending his head slightly.

“Fire,” Tu-Kila-Kila said, like a monarch giving orders to his attendant minister, “if any man touch the newcomers on the reef before I cause my sun to rise to-morrow morning, scorch up his flesh with your flame, and consume his bones to ash and cinder.  If any woman go near them before Tu-Kila-Kila bids, let her be rolled in palm-leaves, and smeared with oil, and light her up for a torch on a dark night to lighten our temple.”

The King of Fire bent his head in assent.  “It is as Tu-Kila-Kila wills,” he answered, submissively.

Tu-Kila-Kila whistled again, this time twice.  “The King of Water!” he exclaimed, in the same loud tone of command as before.

At the words, a man of about forty, tall and sinewy, clad in a short cape of white albatross feathers, and with a girdle of nautilus shells interspersed with red coral tied around his waist, came forth to the summons.

“The King of Water is here,” he said, bending his head, but not his knee, before the greater deity.