It appeared that Kasawayo was the religious impersonation of some great goddess of shadowland, and I had reason to believe that she was a jealous impersonation. Stepping on the small platform, she gave the maid who had made me taboo a fierce whack on the face! A great hullabaloo followed this ungracious act. The priests, chiefesses, and youths leapt from their mats and joined enthusiastically in the mêlée. My chance to escape had come! In a second I had dived towards the cavern’s side. I scrambled down the tunnel-way. When I arrived at the spot where one was compelled to stoop, a great fear seized my heart, for I heard the sound of breathing just behind me—I knew that I was pursued! I cursed my ample bulk. Had I been a little thinner I could have squeezed through the narrow aperture easily enough. Holding my violin forward in one hand, so that I could clear the walls without its being crushed, I gave a final wriggle—I was through!
My delight can be imagined when I emerged into the bush of the surrounding gullies. Scrambling through the tropical growth I heard a faint shuffling noise close behind me. It was evident that someone else had rushed through the tunnel-way and was close on my track.
“I’m done for!” I thought, as I turned round, determined to sell my life dearly. The old barbarian that dwells in all men leapt into my soul. I even felt some fierce joy at the idea of cracking my pursuer’s skull ere I fell. “Come on!” I shouted, as I held a lump of rock over my head; then I dropped my clumsy weapon and smiled—the dusky goddess-maid who had made me taboo stood before me!
“Come, Papalagi!” she whispered, as she clutched my arm.
Like an obedient child I raced along as she ran soft-footed beside me. I felt that I was running across some fairy-world in a dream, as I saw the maid’s flying heels and the moonlit forest around me.
“Runner fast!” she said.
And so I did.
Arriving at the bottom of the steep incline, we pulled up by the edge of a wide mountain lagoon. Feathery palms leaned over the silent waters. The moon, high in the sky right overhead, was imaged distinctly in the dark water at my feet, and by the mirrored orb floated a canoe. The clear shadow of that tiny craft was so distinct that it seemed to float just over the moon’s image, the shadow being more visible than the canoe itself.
“O Papalagi, jumper! jumper!” said the maid in an appealing voice.
I did not hesitate, but I leaned forward and leapt—splash!—I had jumped into the shadow craft and down into the depths of the imaged moon. The maid, as I floundered about in the deep water, clutched my hair, and so enabled me to scramble up on the lagoon’s edge.