Now Bickley pretended to consult me who stood brooding and majestic, that is if I can be majestic. I whispered something and he answered:
“The gods of the wind and the sea.”
“What nonsense,” ejaculated Bastin, “there are no such things.”
“Shut up,” I said, “we must use similes here,” to which he replied:
“I don’t like similes that tamper with the truth.”
“Remember Neptune and Aeolus,” I suggested, and he lapsed into consideration of the point.
“We knew that you were coming,” said Marama. “Our doctors told us all about you a moon ago. But we wish that you would come more gently, as you nearly washed away our country.”
After looking at me Bickley replied:
“How thankful should you be that in our kindness we have spared you.”
“What do you come to do?” inquired Marama again. After the usual formula of consulting me Bickley answered: