The man’s meaning seemed plain enough; I nodded, and signed that they might bring their baskets forward, which they immediately did, placing their offering on the ground below where I stood. Eleven of the twelve then retired a few yards and, drawing up in line, appeared to be awaiting further developments, while the twelfth—he who appeared to be the leader of the party—began signing to us a communication which Oldroyd and I eventually interpreted as an enquiry of some sort in reference to our prisoner. We waited patiently until the fellow seemed to have completed his enquiry, and then I uttered, interrogatively—
“Kilau Minga?”
The savage nodded his head vigorously, and appeared to be highly gratified at his success.
“I think,” said I to Oldroyd, “it is clear enough that our friend down below there is anxious to get definite information regarding his chief. Do you think it would be wise to take him to Kilau Minga and let him see for himself how the patient is progressing allowing the two of them to have a chat together and exchange confidences?”
“Yes, I believe it would,” agreed Oldroyd. “I think the effect would be distinctly good.”
“What say you, Doctor?” I asked, “is your patient well enough to endure the ordeal of an interview with one of his own people?”
“Oh yes,” answered the Doctor. “A brief interview will not hurt him; on the contrary, it may be distinctly beneficial.”
“Good!” said I. “Then I will go down and admit our friend from outside.”
That interview was satisfactory. The native who had initiated the enquiry fearlessly and unhesitatingly accepted my invitation to enter our ruin, followed me confidently, and displayed delight when he saw his chief not only alive but well cared for and on the road to recovery. A long conversation passed between the two, in the course of which I had no difficulty in distinguishing that the new-comer was relating the incident of ’Thea’s performance of the previous night—indeed I heard the name “Taana” uttered several times. Kilau Minga appeared to be impressed by what he heard; he put a number of questions to his visitor, to whose replies he listened in awe-struck amazement; and I gathered that he approved of the raising of the siege.
Oldroyd and I escorted our visitor to the door, where the man treated us to another long pantomimic performance the purport of which we gathered to be, first, an expression of deep gratitude for our care of the chief, and, next, a request for permission to repeat the visit. The first we accepted with due dignity, and graciously accorded the second, the departure of the party being marked by many eloquent signs of amity and good-will.
We were all gratified at so satisfactory a termination of our little war. Mason was the only one not completely satisfied. He questioned whether the rest of us were not taking the peaceful protestations of the natives rather too much for granted, pointing out that savages were almost invariably treacherous and untruthful, regarding deception as legitimate for the gaining of an end. He was inclined to suspect the sincerity of our particular savages; he regarded their conversion as much too sudden to be genuine, and urged caution until the natives should have demonstrated their honesty. He was so earnest in his protests, and his arguments were so reasonable, so solidly based upon common sense, that we could not ignore them; and for a week or so we observed our former precautions; but by the end of that time we were all—Mason included—so convinced of the needlessness of those precautions that we practically abandoned them.
One result of the changed relations with the natives was that we no longer had to forage for our larder, our late enemies keeping us amply supplied every day with fruit, fish and birds in pleasing variety.
Matters progressed thus for about a week; and then, on a certain day, an element of variety was introduced by the inclusion of four women in the party who brought the daily tribute of fruit, etcetera, to our larder. The man whom we had by this time come to recognise as the leader was also present, and when the contents of the baskets had been delivered, as usual, this man led forward the four women and gave us to understand, by signs, that they also requested permission to see the chief. We gathered from the signs of the introducer—who, by the way, had conveyed to us the information that his name was Naqua—that the four women were Kilau Minga’s wives, and as we saw no reason for refusing their request, we permitted the interview. Upon being introduced into Kilau Minga’s chamber they rushed forward and, throwing themselves upon their knees beside his couch, seized his left hand, one after the other, and pressed it against their foreheads; then, settling back upon their heels, with little cries of delight at seeing him again, they poured forth a torrent of eager questions, which the poor fellow answered as well as he could in face of incessant interruptions. He appeared to be explaining the nature of our treatment of him, frequently indicating the Doctor, who was present, and who was visibly embarrassed by their constant manifestations of gratitude.
The interview lasted about half-an-hour, and then, at a sign and a word from Kilau Minga, the quartette rose to their feet, bent over the chief, again pressed his left hand to their foreheads, and somewhat reluctantly withdrew. Naqua remained a minute or two longer, apparently to receive certain instructions, and then he also withdrew, the whole party prostrating themselves before us by way of farewell, and then retiring into the forest, voicing a low, murmuring chant as they went.
Having by this time come to the conclusion that we had no cause to fear further interference we resumed our mode of life, save that, since the daily gift of fruit, fish and birds continued, there was no need for us to forage for ourselves. Oldroyd and I spent a good deal of our time with the chief, studying his language and imparting to him a knowledge of ours, with the result that by the time that Kilau Minga had completely recovered, we three were enabled, with the help of occasional sketches, to communicate with each other with a considerable amount of freedom.
Interesting as Oldroyd and I found the study of the islanders’ language, the presence of Kilau Minga in our midst grew increasingly embarrassing as he progressed toward recovery. It was no part of our policy to introduce him into what I may term the intimacy of our family circle, and especially was I anxious to conceal from him, and the natives generally, the existence of the two girls for as long as possible—although we all foresaw that this concealment could not be prolonged indefinitely; we therefore watched the chief’s progress toward recovery with the keenest interest, since we were all anxious to send him back to his own people at the earliest date possible. Meanwhile, I had been thinking out a little scheme having for its object the strengthening of the impression made upon the native mind by ’Thea’s nocturnal appearance upon the top of the tower. This scheme ran upon parallel lines with the one to which I have just alluded; and the first to whom I mentioned it was Oldroyd, who gave it qualified approval. I broached it to ’Thea, since it could only be carried out with her co-operation, and she at once consented.
At length the Doctor pronounced his patient to be sufficiently recovered to need no further professional care, and to be fit to return to his people. The man’s delight was plain when he was given to understand that he would be free to leave us and return to his home. And he was not only delighted at the prospect of rejoining his own kith and kin; he was also intensely grateful for the care which we had taken of him and the humanity with which we had treated him.
At this point Oldroyd—who had a genius for the acquisition of languages and was far ahead of the rest of us in the facility with which he was able to converse with Kilau Minga—diverted the conversation into another channel by enquiring whether Naqua or any of the other natives who had visited the chief during his illness had made any mention of a remarkable apparition which had revealed itself one night on the top of the tower, and the appearance of which, we supposed, had led to the abandonment of the siege of the ruins by his people.
“Yes,” answered the chief, he had been informed of the circumstance; and he, in common with the rest of his people had interpreted the manifestation as an indication of the goddess’s displeasure at their attack upon the white people. He asked whether we, too, had seen the apparition; to which Oldroyd replied that we had; and, not only so, we had discovered among the ruins a temple dedicated to the worship of the goddess, for it contained an image of her, precisely as she had appeared on that memorable night.
Kilau Minga was moved at this news; his countenance betrayed awe, amazement, fear and a suspicion of incredulity. His voice sank to a whisper, and he glanced about him apprehensively as though he momentarily expected that the goddess would appear and visit with condign punishment the bold intruder who stood on what he evidently regarded as holy ground.
“It is the great goddess Taana, without a doubt!” he murmured. “None of us have ever seen her—until now; nor have we been told that she ever appeared to our forefathers. Neither do we know whereabouts her temple is, although it has been diligently sought for, time after time. But we know that it exists somewhere on this island; and we have a legend concerning Taana, that ages ago, the people rebelled against her rule and slew her priests because they had ordered the punishment of certain chiefs who had transgressed the law; whereupon the goddess disappeared, the mount yonder vomited forth fire and smoke, and the solid earth shook so terribly that many of the buildings standing near Taana’s Tower were destroyed—as you may see them this day. And the legend goes on to say that Taana will some day return to the island; and that when she does, all will go well with us if we will but obey her laws—which we certainly will.”
“I think you will be wise to do so,” remarked Oldroyd. “I also think it possible that Taana may have returned to the island; for the apparition which we saw upon the tower the other night precisely resembled the image in the temple; indeed it might well have been the same, so exactly like was it.”
Kilau Minga nodded abstractedly; he was thinking hard. Presently he looked up and said, hesitatingly—
“My lords, might I see the temple of which you speak—and Taana’s image, before I go back to my own people?”
“Have you the courage to enter that sacred place?” demanded Oldroyd.
“I have the courage, yes, I have the courage,” answered the chief. “I have never knowingly disobeyed any of Taana’s laws, so why should she be angry with me?”
“Good!” returned Oldroyd. “Then you shall see both the temple and the image. I will get torches; then you shall come with us.”
On his way to procure the torches, Oldroyd tapped at Anthea’s door and gave her the warning for which she had been waiting. He was not long absent, for our preparations had already been made, in anticipation of the moment, the only time needed being what sufficed for Mason to light the lamps in the temple, and for Anthea to mount the pedestal in place of the image, which had been removed; a few minutes later, therefore, Oldroyd returned, with torches.
Oldroyd led the way, followed by Kilau Minga; the Doctor, Mason and I bringing up the rear, each carrying a lighted torch. The chief gazed about him curiously as we traversed the long subterranean passages, and it was not difficult to see that, despite his recent declaration of courage, he was oppressed by a sense of distinct perturbation.
We reached the end of the passage and Oldroyd halted before the curtain which marked the entrance to the temple. Turning to Kilau Minga, he whispered impressively—
“You are still sure that you have the courage to face the image of Taana?”
The chief hesitated for a moment before answering. Then, drawing a deep breath, he replied, with a perceptible quaver in his voice—
“Ye–es, I—I—have the courage.”
“Then—enter!” responded Oldroyd, drawing aside the curtain and revealing the interior of the temple, brilliantly illuminated by the lamps which Mason had lighted immediately before joining us. At the last moment, however, Kilau Minga’s courage seemed to fail him; he hesitated, and beads of perspiration bedewed his forehead, trickling down his cheeks.
“Come, and fear not,” murmured Oldroyd, grasping the man’s hand and gently leading him through the doorway. The chief, obeying the impulse of Oldroyd’s hand, followed, his eyes, protruding with awe and amazement as they slowly travelled round the spacious interior, marking the paintings upon the walls. Then, suddenly, as his gaze reached the niche containing the pedestal and he saw Anthea standing there motionless, clad in the magnificent, glittering robe which she had worn upon the occasion of her appearance on the summit of the tower, he dashed his torch to the ground, and fell upon his face, shivering violently and uttering low, piteous moans of terror.
“Nay, fear not, my friend,” said Oldroyd, laying his hand reassuringly upon Kilau Minga’s shoulder. “Rise and look upon the goddess. See, she smiles upon thee!”
Slowly the chief lifted his head until his eyes met those of Anthea, and lo! a miracle had happened, for the figure which he had believed to be only an image, was alive and as Oldroyd had said, was smiling benignantly upon him!
As the eyes of the two met Anthea, who was acting her part splendidly, raised her hand and beckoned the quaking man to approach, which he did, his movements and his whole attitude and aspect betraying the mingled feelings of reverence and fear which gripped him. Hesitatingly he approached until he stood close before her; she beckoned me to stand beside him, whereupon she stooped and, bending forward, took the chief’s hand in one of hers and mine in the other, and joined them together. Next, waving me aside she beckoned Oldroyd forward, repeating her action of joining hands, and so on, with the Doctor and Mason. Then, drawing herself to her full height, she gravely signed to us to retire, which we forthwith did, returning by the way we had come, to the cell which Kilau Minga had occupied during the period of his sojourn with us—for we had decided that we would preserve the secret of the passage from the temple to the tower.
When we stood once more in the chief’s cell, Oldroyd turned to Kilau Minga and said—
“Well, my friend, you are a favoured man indeed, and should be happy this day, for not only have you seen your goddess, but she actually came to life in order to express her will to you. Do you understand what that will is?”
“I do,” answered Kilau Minga. “The will of Taana is that I and my people shall be the friends of the white lords; and I swear that it shall be so. Ay, it shall be so indeed, for, if my lord Massey wills, he and I shall be blood-brothers, after which war between my people and his will be impossible.”