“Now listen,” Felix said, at last, after a long palaver, looking in the savage’s face with a resolute air:  “Tu-Kila-Kila, we are not afraid of you.  We are not afraid of all your people.  I went out alone just now to rescue that child, and, as you see, I succeeded in rescuing it.  Your people have wounded me—­look at the blood on my arms and chest—­but I don’t mind for wounds.  I mean you to do as I say, and to make your people do so, too.  Understand, the nation to which I belong is very powerful.  You have heard of the sailing gods who go over the sea in canoes of fire, as swift as the wind, and whose weapons are hollow tubes, that belch forth great bolts of lightning and thunder?  Very well, I am one of them.  If ever you harm a hair of our heads, those sailing gods will before long send one of their mighty fire-canoes, and bring to bear upon your island their thunder and lightning, and destroy your huts, and punish you for the wrong you have ventured to do us.  So now you know.  Remember that you act exactly as I tell you.”

Tu-Kila-Kila was evidently overawed by the white man’s resolute voice and manner.  He had heard before of the sailing gods (as the Polynesians of the old school still call the Europeans); and though but one or two stray individuals among them had ever reached his remote island (mostly as castaways), he was quite well enough acquainted with their might and power to be deeply impressed by Felix’s exhortation.  So he tried to temporize.  “Very well,” he made answer, with his jauntiest air, assuming a tone of friendly good-fellowship toward his brother-god.  “I will bear it in mind.  I will try to humor you.  While your time lasts, no man shall hurt you.  But if I promise you that, you must do a good turn for me instead.  You must come out before the people and give me a new fire from the sun, that you carry in a shining box about with you.  The King of Fire has allowed his sacred flame to go out in deference to your flood; for last night, you know, you came down heavily.  Never in my life have I known you come down heavier.  The King of Fire acknowledges himself beaten.  So give us light now before the people, that they may know we are gods, and may fear to disobey us.”

“Only on one condition,” Felix answered, sternly; for he felt he had Tu-Kila-Kila more or less in his power now, and that he could drive a bargain with him.  Why, he wasn’t sure; but he saw Tu-Kila-Kila attached a profound importance to having the sacred fire relighted, as he thought, direct from heaven.

“What condition is that?” Tu-Kila-Kila asked, glancing about him suspiciously.

“Why, that you give up in future human sacrifices.”

Tu-Kila-Kila gave a start.  Then he reflected for a moment.  Evidently, the condition seemed to him a very hard one.  “Do you want all the victims for yourself and her, then?” he asked, with a casual nod aside toward Muriel.

Felix drew back, with horror depicted on every line of his face.  “Heaven forbid!” he answered, fervently.  “We want no bloodshed, no human victims.  We ask you to give up these horrid practices, because they shock and revolt us.  If you would have your fire lighted, you must promise us to put down cannibalism altogether henceforth in your island.”