“Va!  Va!  A tahi a ta!  Va!  A tahi va!  A ua va!  A tou va!” was his chant.  “Thus said the war-club as it crashed on the skull of Beaten to Death.  That is the speech of the war-club when it strikes.  The bones of Beaten to Death were fishhooks before we knew of his death.  All Taaoa was angry.  The family of Beaten to Death demanded vengeance.  The priest went into the High Place, and when he came out he ran all day up and down the valley, until he fell foaming.  War was the cry of the gods, war against Atuona.

“But there was too much peace between us, too many men with Atuona women, too many Atuona children adopted by Taaoa women.  The peace was happy, and there was no great warrior to urge.”

“You had brave men and strong men then,” I said, with a sigh for the things I had missed by coming late.

“Tuitui! You put weeds in my mouth!” exclaimed Kahuiti.  “I cannot talk with your words. Ue te etau! By the great god of the dead!  I am born before the French beached a canoe in the Marquesas.  Our gods were gods then, but they turned to wood and stone when the tree-guns of the Farani roared and threw iron balls and fire into our valleys.  The Christian god was greater than our gods, and a bigger killer of men.”

“But Beaten to Death—?” I urged.

“Beaten to Death was in the stomachs of the men of Atuona, and they laughed at us.  Our High Priest said that the Euututuki, the most private god of the priests, commanded us to avenge the eating of Beaten to Death.  But the season of preserving the mei in pits was upon us.  Also the women of Atuona among us said that there should be peace, and the women of Taaoa who had taken as their own many children from Atuona.  Therefore we begged the most high gods to excuse us.”

“Women had much power then,” I said.

Kahuiti chuckled.

“The French god and the priests of the Farani have taken it from them,” he commented.  “I have known the day when women ruled.  She had her husbands,—­two, four, five.  She commanded.  She would send two to the fishing, one to gathering cocoanuts or wood, one she would keep to amuse her.  They came and went as she said.  That was mea pe!  Sickening! Pee! There are not enough men to make a woman happy.  Many brave men have died to please their woman, but—­” He blew out his breath in contempt.

Strong in Battle said aside, in French: 

“He was never second in the house.  Kahauiti despised such men.  He was first always.”

“So the slaying of Beaten to Death was unavenged?” I asked.

“Epo! Do not drink the cocoanut till you have descended the tree!  I have said the warriors were withheld by the women, and there was no great man to lead.  Yet the drums beat at night, and the fighting men came.  You know how the drums speak?”

His face clouded, and his eyes flashed against their foil of tattooing.