"There was a tree growing in the bush there,"says he,"and it seems these devils came to get the leaves of it.So the people of the isle cut down the tree wherever it was found,and the devils came no more."They asked what kind of tree this was,and he showed them the tree of which Kalamake burned the leaves.They found it hard to believe,yet the idea tickled them.Night after night the old men debated it in their councils,but the high chief (though he was a brave man)was afraid of the matter,and reminded them daily of the chief who cast a spear against the voices and was killed,and the thought of that brought all to a stand again.
Though he could not yet bring about the destruction of the trees,Keola was well enough pleased,and began to look about him and take pleasure in his days;and,among other things,he was the kinder to his wife,so that the girl began to love him greatly.One day he came to the hut,and she lay on the ground lamenting.
"Why,"said Keola,"what is wrong with you now?"She declared it was nothing.
The same night she woke him.The lamp burned very low,but he saw by her face she was in sorrow.
"Keola,"she said,"put your ear to my mouth that I may whisper,for no one must hear us.Two days before the boats begin to be got ready,go you to the sea-side of the isle and lie in a thicket.We shall choose that place before-hand,you and I;and hide food;and every night I shall come near by there singing.So when a night comes and you do not hear me,you shall know we are clean gone out of the island,and you may come forth again in safety."The soul of Keola died within him.
"What is this?"he cried."I cannot live among devils.I will not be left behind upon this isle.I am dying to leave it.""You will never leave it alive,my poor Keola,"said the girl;"for to tell you the truth,my people are eaters of men;but this they keep secret.And the reason they will kill you before we leave is because in our island ships come,and Donat-Kimaran comes and talks for the French,and there is a white trader there in a house with a verandah,and a catechist.Oh,that is a fine place indeed!The trader has barrels filled with flour,and a French warship once came in the lagoon and gave everybody wine and biscuit.Ah,my poor Keola,I wish I could take you there,for great is my love to you,and it is the finest place in the seas except Papeete."So now Keola was the most terrified man in the four oceans.He had heard tell of eaters of men in the south islands,and the thing had always been a fear to him;and here it was knocking at his door.
He had heard besides,by travellers,of their practices,and how when they are in a mind to eat a man,they cherish and fondle him like a mother with a favourite baby.And he saw this must be his own case;and that was why he had been housed,and fed,and wived,and liberated from all work;and why the old men and the chiefs discoursed with him like a person of weight.So he lay on his bed and railed upon his destiny;and the flesh curdled on his bones.
The next day the people of the tribe were very civil,as their way was.They were elegant speakers,and they made beautiful poetry,and jested at meals,so that a missionary must have died laughing.
It was little enough Keola cared for their fine ways;all he saw was the white teeth shining in their mouths,and his gorge rose at the sight;and when they were done eating,he went and lay in the bush like a dead man.
The next day it was the same,and then his wife followed him.
"Keola,"she said,"if you do not eat,I tell you plainly you will be killed and cooked to-morrow.Some of the old chiefs are murmuring already.They think you are fallen sick and must lose flesh."With that Keola got to his feet,and anger burned in him.
"It is little I care one way or the other,"said he."I am between the devil and the deep sea.Since die I must,let me die the quickest way;and since I must be eaten at the best of it,let me rather be eaten by hobgoblins than by men.Farewell,"said he,and he left her standing,and walked to the sea-side of that island.
It was all bare in the strong sun;there was no sign of man,only the beach was trodden,and all about him as he went,the voices talked and whispered,and the little fires sprang up and burned down.All tongues of the earth were spoken there;the French,the Dutch,the Russian,the Tamil,the Chinese.Whatever land knew sorcery,there were some of its people whispering in Keola's ear.
That beach was thick as a cried fair,yet no man seen;and as he walked he saw the shells vanish before him,and no man to pick them up.I think the devil would have been afraid to be alone in such a company;but Keola was past fear and courted death.When the fires sprang up,he charged for them like a bull.Bodiless voices called to and fro;unseen hands poured sand upon the flames;and they were gone from the beach before he reached them.
"It is plain Kalamake is not here,"he thought,"or I must have been killed long since."With that he sat him down in the margin of the wood,for he was tired,and put his chin upon his hands.The business before his eyes continued:the beach babbled with voices,and the fires sprang up and sank,and the shells vanished and were renewed again even while he looked.
"It was a by-day when I was here before,"he thought,"for it was nothing to this."And his head was dizzy with the thought of these millions and millions of dollars,and all these hundreds and hundreds of persons culling them upon the beach and flying in the air higher and swifter than eagles.
"And to think how they have fooled me with their talk of mints,"says he,"and that money was made there,when it is clear that all the new coin in all the world is gathered on these sands!But Iwill know better the next time!"said he.
And at last,he knew not very well how or when,sleep feel on Keola,and he forgot the island and all his sorrows.
Early the next day,before the sun was yet up,a bustle woke him.