Part 9 (1/2)
Muriel clung to his arm with a pa.s.sionate clinging.
”Oh, Felix,” she cried, ”no! Don't leave me here alone. My darling, I love you. You're all the world there is left to me now, Felix. Don't go out to those wretches and leave me here alone. They'll murder you!
they'll murder you! Don't go out, I implore you. If they mean to kill us, let them kill us both together, in one another's arms. Oh, Felix, I am yours, and you are mine, my darling!”
It was the first time either of them had acknowledged the fact; but there, before the face of that awful convulsion of nature, all the little deceptions and veils of life seemed rent asunder forever as by a flash of lightning. They stood face to face with each other's souls, and forgot all else in the agony of the moment. Felix clasped the trembling girl in his arms like a lover. The two Shadows looked on and shook with silent terror. If the King of the Rain thus embraced the Queen of the Clouds before their very eyes, amid so awful a storm, what unspeakable effects might not follow at once from it! But they had too much respect for those supernatural creatures to attempt to interfere with their action at such a moment. They accepted their masters almost as pa.s.sively as they accepted the wind and the thunder, which they believed to arise from them.
Felix laid his poor Muriel tenderly down on the mud floor again. ”I _must_ go out, my child,” he said. ”For the very love of _you_, I must play the man, and find out what these savages mean by their drumming.”
He crept to the door of the hut (for no man could walk upright before that awful storm), and peered out into the darkness once more, awaiting one of the frequent flashes of lightning. He had not long to wait. In a moment the sky was all ablaze again from end to end, and continued so for many seconds consecutively. By the light of the continuous zigzags of fire, Felix could see for himself that hundreds and hundreds of natives--men, women, and children, naked, or nearly so, with their hair loose and wet about their cheeks--lay flat on their faces, many courses deep, just outside the taboo line. The wind swept over them with extraordinary force, and the tropical rain descended in great floods upon their bare backs and shoulders. But the savages, as if entranced, seemed to take no heed of all these earthly things. They lay grovelling in the mud before some unseen power; and beating their tom-toms in unison, with barbaric concord, they cried aloud once more as Felix appeared, in a weird litany that overtopped the tumultuous noise of the tempest, ”Oh, Storm-G.o.d, hear us! Oh, great spirit, deliver us! King of the Rain and Queen of the Clouds, befriend us! Be angry no more! Hide your wrath from your people! Take away your hurricane, and we will bring you many gifts.
Eat no longer of the storm-apple--the seed of the wind--and we will feed you with yam and turtle, and much choice bread-fruit. Great king, we are yours; you shall choose which you will of our children for your meat and drink; you shall sup on our blood. But take your storm away; do not utterly drown and submerge our island!”
As they spoke they crawled nearer and nearer, with gliding serpentine motion, till their heads almost touched the white line of coral. But not a man of them all went one inch beyond it. They stopped there and gazed at him. Felix signed to them with his hand, and pointed vaguely to the sky, as much as to say _he_ was not responsible. At the gesture the whole a.s.sembly burst into one loud shout of grat.i.tude. ”He has heard us, he has heard us!” they exclaimed, with a perfect wail of joy. ”He will not utterly destroy us. He will take away his storm. He will bring the sun and the moon back to us.”
Felix returned into the hut, somewhat rea.s.sured so far as the att.i.tude of the savages went. ”Don't be afraid of them, Muriel,” he cried, taking her pa.s.sionately once more in a tender embrace. ”They daren't cross the taboo. They won't come near; they're too frightened themselves to dream of hurting us.”
CHAPTER XI.
AFTER THE STORM.
Next morning the day broke bright and calm, as if the tempest had been but an evil dream of the night, now past forever. The birds sang loud; the lizards came forth from their holes in the wall, and basked, green and gold, in the warm, dry suns.h.i.+ne. But though the sky overhead was blue and the air clear, as usually happen after these alarming tropical cyclones and rainstorms, the memorials of the great wind that had raged all night long among the forests of the island were neither few nor far between. Everywhere the ground was strewn with leaves and branches and huge stems of cocoa-palms. All nature was draggled. Many of the trees were stripped clean of their foliage, as completely as oaks in an English winter; on others, big strands of twisted fibres marked the scars and joints where mighty boughs had been torn away by main force; while, elsewhere, bare stumps alone remained to mark the former presence of some n.o.ble dracaena or some gigantic banyan. Bread-fruits and cocoanuts lay tossed in the wildest confusion on the ground; the banana and plantain-patches were beaten level with the soil or buried deep in the mud; many of the huts had given way entirely; abundant wreckage strewed every corner of the island. It was an awful sight. Muriel shuddered to herself to see how much the two that night had pa.s.sed through.
What the outer fringing reef had suffered from the storm they hardly knew as yet; but from the door of the hut Felix could see for himself how even the calm waters of the inner lagoon had been lashed into wild fury by the fierce swoop of the tempest. Round the entire atoll the solid conglomerate coral floor was scooped under, broken up, chewed fine by the waves, or thrown in vast fragments on the beach of the island. By the eastern sh.o.r.e, in particular, just opposite their hut, Felix observed a regular wall of many feet in height, piled up by the waves like the familiar Chesil Beach near his old home in Dorsets.h.i.+re. It was the shelter of that temporary barrier alone, no doubt, that had preserved their huts last night from the full fury of the gale, and that had allowed the natives to congregate in such numbers p.r.o.ne on their faces in the mud and rain, upon the unconsecrated ground outside their taboo-line.
But now not an islander was to be seen within ear-shot. All had gone away to look after their ruined huts or their beaten-down plantain-patches, leaving the cruel G.o.ds, who, as they thought, had wrought all the mischief out of pure wantonness, to repent at leisure the harm done during the night to their obedient votaries.
Felix was just about to cross the taboo-line and walk down to the sh.o.r.e to examine the barrier, when Toko, his Shadow, laying his hand on his shoulder with more genuine interest and affection than he had ever yet shown, exclaimed, with some horror, ”Oh, no! Not that! Don't dare to go outside! It would be very dangerous for you. If my people were to catch you on profane soil just now, there's no saying what harm they might do to you.”
”Why so?” Felix exclaimed, in surprise. ”Last night, surely, they were all prayers and promises and vows and entreaties.”
The young man nodded his head in acquiescence. ”Ah, yes; last night,” he answered. ”That was very well then. Vows were sore needed. The storm was raging, and you were within your taboo. How could they dare to touch you, a mighty G.o.d of the tempest, at the very moment when you were rending their banyan-trees and snapping their cocoanut stems with your mighty arms like so many little chicken-bones? Even Tu-Kila-Kila himself, I expect, the very high G.o.d, lay frightened in his temple, cowering by his tree, annoyed at your wrath; he sent Fire and Water among the wors.h.i.+ppers, no doubt, to offer up vows and to appease your anger.”
Then Felix remembered, as his Shadow spoke, that, as a matter of fact, he had observed the men who usually wore the red and white feather cloaks among the motley crowd of grovelling natives who lay flat on their faces in the mud of the cleared s.p.a.ce the night before, and prayed hard for mercy. Only they were not wearing their robes of office at the moment, in accordance with a well-known savage custom; they had come naked and in disgrace, as befits all suppliants. They had left behind them the insignia of their rank in their own shaken huts, and bowed down their bare backs to the rain and the lightning.
”Yes, I saw them among the other islanders,” Felix answered, half-smiling, but prudently remaining within the taboo-line, as his Shadow advised him.
Toko kept his hand still on his master's shoulder. ”Oh, king,” he said, beseechingly, and with great solemnity, ”I am doing wrong to warn you; I am breaking a very great Taboo. I don't know what harm may come to me for telling you. Perhaps Tu-Kila-Kila will burn me to ashes with one glance of his eyes. He may know this minute what I'm saying here alone to you.”
It is hard for a white man to meet scruples like this; but Felix was bold enough to answer outright: ”Tu-Kila-Kila knows nothing of the sort, and can never find out. Take my word for it, Toko, nothing that you say to me will ever reach Tu-Kila-Kila.”
The Shadow looked at him doubtfully, and trembled as he spoke. ”I like you, Korong,” he said, with a genuinely truthful ring in his voice. ”You seem to me so kind and good--so different from other G.o.ds, who are very cruel. You never beat me. n.o.body I ever served treated me as well or as kindly as you have done. And for _your_ sake I will even dare to break taboo--if you're quite, quite sure Tu-Kila-Kila will never discover it.”
”I'm quite sure,” Felix answered, with perfect confidence. ”I know it for certain. I swear a great oath to it.”
”You swear by Tu-Kila-Kila himself?” the young savage asked, anxiously.
”I swear by Tu-Kila-Kila himself,” Felix replied at once. ”I swear, without doubt. He can never know it.”
”That is a great Taboo,” the Shadow went on, meditatively, stroking Felix's arm. ”A very great Taboo indeed. A terrible medicine. And you are a G.o.d; I can trust you. Well, then, you see, the secret is this: you are Korong, but you are a stranger, and you don't understand the ways of Boupari. If for three days after the end of this storm, which Tu-Kila-Kila has sent Fire and Water to pray and vow against, you or the Queen of the Clouds show yourselves outside your own taboo-line--why, then, the people are clear of sin; whoever takes you may rend you alive; they will tear you limb from limb and cut you into pieces.”
”Why so?” Felix asked, aghast at this discovery. They seemed to live on a perpetual volcano in this wonderful island; and a volcano ever breaking out in fresh places. They could never get to the bottom of its horrible superst.i.tions.