“You might just as well ask him to show you what o’clock it is by the dial of his cathedral,” said Jack.

“They would only point to the sun if I did.”

“But suppose the sun invisible.”

“Then they would be in the same position as we are when we forget to wind up our watches.  Gentlemen savages,” he said, turning to the natives and handing them the glass beads, “accept these trifles as a token of our esteem.”

The natives required no pressing, but accepted the proffered gifts with great good-will.  The dancing and singing then recommenced with redoubled fury, and poor Jack’s nose was almost obliterated by the constant rubbing it underwent.

Suddenly the hubbub ceased, and a profound silence reigned throughout the assembly.  The oldest of the priests brought a mantle of red feathers, similar to the one that covered the idol.  This was thrown over the Pilot’s shoulders; a tuft of feathers, something resembling a funeral plume, was placed upon his head, and a large semi-circular fan was thrust into his hand.  Thus equipped, a procession was formed, one half before and the other half behind him.  The cortege began to move slowly in the direction of the interior, but the operation was disconcerted by Willis, who remained stock-still.

“Thank you,” he said, “I would rather not go far away from the shore.”

As soon as the natives saw clearly that Willis was not disposed to move, the chief issued a mandate, and four stout fellows immediately removed the idol from its position, and Willis was placed upon the vacant pedestal.

The kind of adoration with which all these proceedings were accompanied greatly perplexed the voyagers.  What could it all mean?  Was this a common mode of welcoming strangers?  It occurred to Jack that the Romans were accustomed to decorate with flowers the victims they designed as sacrifices to the altars of their gods before immolating them.  This reminiscence made his flesh creep with horror, and filled him with the utmost dismay.

“Willis!” he cried to the Pilot, whom they were now leading off in triumph, “let us try the effects of our rifles on this rabble; you jump over the heads of your worshippers, and we will charge through them to shore.  I will shoot the first man that pursues us, and signal Fritz to discharge the four-pounder amongst them.”

“Impossible,” replied Willis; “we should both be stuck all over with arrows and lances before we could reach the pinnace.  Did I not tell you not to come ashore?”

“True, Willis, but did you suppose I had no heart?  How could I look on quietly whilst you were surrounded by a mob of ferocious-looking men?”

“Well, well, Master Jack, say no more about it; I do not suppose they mean to do me any harm; but there would be danger in rousing the passions of such a multitude of people.  They seem, luckily, to direct their attentions exclusively to me, so you had better go back and look after the canoe.”