Felix put his arm gently round her girlish waist, and half lifted her into the boat in spite of her reluctance.  “You must,” he said, with great firmness.  “You must do as I say.  I will watch over you, and take care of you.  If the worst comes, I have always my knife, and I won’t forget.  Now, friend,” he went on, in Fijian, turning round to the chief, as he took his seat in the canoe fearlessly among all those dusky, half-clad figures, “we are ready to start.  We do not fear.  We wish to go.  Take us to Tu-Kila-Kila.”

And all the savages around, shouting in their surprise and awe, exclaimed once more in concert, “Tu-Kila-Kila is great.  We will take them, as he bids us, forthwith to heaven.”

“What do they say?” Muriel cried, clinging close to the white man’s side in her speechless terror.  “Do you understand their language?”

“Well, I can’t quite make it out,” Felix answered, much puzzled; “that is to say, not every word of it.  They say they’ll take us somewhere, I don’t quite know where; but in Fijian, the word would certainly mean to heaven.”

Muriel shuddered visibly.  “You don’t think,” she said, with a tremulous tongue, “they mean to kill us?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Felix replied, not over-confidently.  “They said we were Taboo.  But with savages like these, of course, one can never in any case be quite certain.”

CHAPTER V.

Enrolled in Olympus.

They rowed across the lagoon, a mysterious procession, almost in silence—­the canoe with the two Europeans going first, the others following at a slight distance—­and landed at last on the brink of the central island.

Several of the Boupari people leaped ashore at once; then they helped Felix and Muriel from the frail bark with almost deferential care, and led the way before them up a steep white path, that zigzagged through the forest toward the centre of the island.  As they went, a band of natives preceded them in regular line of march, shouting “Taboo, taboo!” at short intervals, especially as they neared any group of fan-palm cottages.  The women whom they met fell on their knees at once, till the strange procession had passed them by; the men only bowed their heads thrice, and made a rapid movement on their breasts with their fingers, which reminded Muriel at once of the sign of the cross in Catholic countries.

So on they wended their way in silence through the deep tropical jungle, along a pathway just wide enough for three to walk abreast, till they emerged suddenly upon a large cleared space, in whose midst grew a great banyan-tree, with arms that dropped and rooted themselves like buttresses in the soil beneath.  Under the banyan-tree a raised platform stood upon posts of bamboo.  The platform was covered with fine network in yellow and red; and two little stools occupied the middle, as if placed there on purpose and waiting for their occupants.