“So you say,” answered Owen, “who are not altogether without understanding, yet know little, never having been taught.  Now listen to me,” and very earnestly he preached to him and those about him of peace, of forgiveness, and of life everlasting.

“Why should a God die miserably upon a cross?” asked the king at length.

“That through His sacrifice men might become as gods,” answered Owen.  “Believe in Him and He will save you.”

“How can we do that,” asked the king again, “when already we have a god?  Can we desert one god and set up another?”

“What god, King?”

“I will show him to you, White Man.  Let my litter be brought.”

The litter was brought and the king entered it with labouring breath.  Passing through the north gate of the Great Place, the party ascended a slope of the hill that lay beyond it till they reached a flat plain some hundreds of yards in width.  On this plain vegetation grew scantily, for here the bed rock of ironstone, denuded with frequent and heavy rains, was scarcely hidden by a thin crust of earth.  On the further side of the plain, however, and separated from it by a little stream, was a green bank of deep soft soil, beyond which lay a gloomy valley full of great trees, that for many generations had been the burying-place of the kings of the Amasuka.

“This is the house of the god,” said the king.

“A strange house,” answered Owen, “and where is he that dwells in it?”

“Follow me and I will show you, Messenger; but be swift, for already the sky grows dark with coming tempest.”

Now at the king’s command the bearers bore him across the sere plateau towards a stone that lay almost in its centre.  Presently they halted, and, pointing to this mass, the king said:—­

“Behold the god!”

Owen advanced and examined the object.  A glance told him that this god of the Amasuka was a meteoric stone of unusual size.  Most of such stones are mere shapeless lumps, but this one bore a peculiar resemblance to a seated human being holding up one arm towards the sky.  So strange was this likeness that, other reasons apart, it seemed not wonderful that savages should regard the thing with awe and veneration.  Rather would it have been wonderful had they not done so.

“Say now,” said Owen to the king when he had inspected the stone, “what is the history of this dumb god of yours, and why do you worship him?”

“Follow me across the stream and I will tell you, Messenger,” answered the king, again glancing at the sky.  “The storm gathers, and when it breaks none are safe upon this plain except the heaven doctors such as Hokosa and his companions who can bind the lightning.”

So they went and when they reached the further side of the stream Umsuka descended from his litter.