now to feel sure these people were not upon the war-path.  Whatever their ultimate intentions toward the castaways might be, their immediate object seemed friendly and good-humored.  The boats, though large, were not regular war-canoes; the men, instead of brandishing their spears, and lunging out with them over the edge in threatening attitudes, held them erect in their hands at rest, like standards; they were laughing and talking, not crying their war-cry.  As they drew near the shore, one big canoe shot suddenly a length or so ahead of the rest; and its leader, standing on the grotesque carved figure that adorned its prow, held up both his hands open and empty before him, in sign of peace, while at the same time he shouted out a word or two three times in his own language, to reassure the castaways.

Felix’s eye glanced cautiously from boat to boat.  “He says, ’We are friends,’” the young man remarked in an undertone to his terrified companion.  “I can understand his dialect.  Thank Heaven, it’s very close to Fijian.  I shall be able at least to palaver to these men.  I don’t think they mean just now to harm us.  I believe we can trust them, at any rate for the present.”

The poor girl drew back, in still greater awe and alarm than ever.  “Oh, are they going to land here?” she cried, still clinging closer with both hands to her one friend and protector.

“Try not to look so frightened!” Felix exclaimed, with a warning glance.  “Remember, much depends upon it; savages judge you greatly by what demeanor you happen to assume.  If you’re frightened, they know their power; if they see you’re resolute, they suspect you have some supernatural means of protection.  Try to meet them frankly, as if you were not afraid of them.”  Then, advancing slowly to the water’s edge, he called out aloud, in a strong, clear voice, a few words which Muriel didn’t understand, but which were really the Fijian for “We also are friendly.  Our medicine is good.  We mean no magic.  We come to you from across the great water.  We desire your peace.  Receive us and protect us!”

At the sound of words which he could readily understand, and which differed but little, indeed, from his own language, the leader on the foremost canoe, who seemed by his manner to be a great chief, turned round to his followers and cried out in tones of superstitious awe, “Tu-Kila-Kila spoke well.  These are, indeed, what he told us.  Korong!  Korong!  They are spirits who have come to us from the disk of the sun, to bring us light and pure, fresh fire.  Stay back there, all of you.  You are not holy enough to approach.  I and my crew, who are sanctified by the mysteries, we alone will go forward to meet them.”

As he spoke, a sudden idea, suggested by his words, struck Felix’s mind.  Superstition is the great lever by which to move the savage intelligence.  Gathering up a few dry leaves and fragments of stick on the shore, he laid them together in a pile, and awaited in silence the arrival of the foremost islanders.  The first canoe advanced slowly and cautiously, the men in it eying these proceedings with evident suspicion; the rest hung back, with their spears in array, and their hands just ready to use them with effect should occasion demand it.