“Why, what are all these?” Felix exclaimed in surprise.
His Shadow looked up at him, as if amused at the absurd simplicity of the question. “These are yours, of course,” he said; “yours and the Queen’s; they are the windfalls you made. Did you not knock them all off the trees for yourselves when you were coming down in such sheets from the sky last evening?”
Felix wrung his hands in positive despair. It was clear, indeed, that to the minds of the natives there was no distinguishing personally between himself and Muriel, and the rain or the cyclone.
“Will they bring them all in?” he asked, gazing in alarm at the huge pile of fruits the natives were making outside the huts.
“Yes, all,” the Shadow answered; “they are vows; they are godsends; but if you like, you can give some of them back. If you give much back, of course it will make my people less angry with you.”
Felix advanced near the line, holding his hand up before him to command silence. As he did so, he was absolutely appalled himself at the perfect storm of execration and abuse which his appearance excited. The foremost natives, brandishing their clubs and stone-tipped spears, or shaking their fists by the line, poured forth upon his devoted head at once all the most frightful curses of the Polynesian vocabulary. “Oh, evil god,” they cried aloud with angry faces, “oh, wicked spirit! you have a bad heart. See what a wrong you have purposely done us. If your heart were not bad, would you treat us like this? If you are indeed a god, come out across the line, and let us try issues together. Don’t skulk like a coward in your hut and within your taboo, but come out and fight us. We are not afraid, who are only men. Why are you afraid of us?”
Felix tried to speak once more, but the din drowned his voice. As he paused, the people set up their loud shouts again. “Oh, you wicked god! You eat the storm-apple! You have wrought us much harm. You have spoiled our harvest. How you came down in great sheets last night! It was pitiful, pitiful! We would like to kill you. You might have taken our bread-fruits and our bananas, if you would; we give you them freely; they are yours; here, take them. We feed you well; we make you many offerings. But why did you wish to have our huts also? Why did you beat down our young plantations and break our canoes against the beach of the island? That shows a bad heart! You are an evil god! You dare not defend yourself. Come out and meet us.”