During this entertainment, I had an opportunity to look around the cabin. It was the most curious wonder-shop I had ever entered. Its walls were hung with shields and pieces of silverware. Hundreds of quaint knives and cutlasses were assembled in clusters on the ceiling and in the corners. Trophies from every ship that had joined the community were to be seen. Priceless gems, in antique settings, were arranged in rosettes upon the grass-cloth draperies. Beautiful articles of beaten gold, evidently fashioned from nuggets, formed by melting down that most useless commodity among the Sargassons, the coin of commerce, rested upon the table and upon the shelves in various parts of the cabin.
Indeed, we ate our modest luncheon of berries and oranges from golden dishes.
CHAPTER XXII.
A SOLEMN CEREMONIAL.
In excellent French the attendant instructed us as to our part in the approaching ceremonial. Two robes of Chinese silk, reaching to our feet, were handed us, and we were told to array ourselves. I was very glad of this, as I had only partially adopted the garb of the Sargassons, and my clothing was badly worn and shiny. Fidette, I imagine, was much annoyed at this suggestion, not wishing to make the change from the pretty costume of grass-cloth that she had fashioned with her own fingers to the shroud-like garment, which did not set off her pretty figure to advantage. The orders of the attendant, however, were imperative, and we were soon ready for the solemn ceremonial.
When we were ready to meet the Chief Kantoon, we were attended by the same priest who had welcomed us to the ship, and we were also accompanied by the choir of boys, who, during our slow and solemn walk from the reception cabin to the large and imposing after-cabin, chanted a processional hymn.
Fidette appeared to be in an ecstasy of delight, but for my part I could not shake off the feeling that we were the central figures in a requiem mass, instead of a glorious ceremonial of sanctification. I was depressed, therefore, rather than exhilarated.
The after part of the ship, that had been prepared for the initiation, was separated from the rest of the deck by a hedge of orchids, growing in a series of rude boxes. A doorway in the centre was covered by portieres of grass-cloth, which, as we approached, were slowly drawn apart.
As we entered, I was impressed with the beauty and solemnity of the scene.
The Chief Kantoon sat upon a raised dais, directly at the stern of the vessel, and on his immediate right, equally elevated, sat the High Priest of the Sacred Fire. He was vested in a chasuble of black, much after the manner of the priests who celebrate mass in our American churches. Near him and behind were ranged attending acolytes, wearing long capes of lustreless, sea-green hue. To the immediate left of the Chief Kantoon stood the six members of his cabinet. They were all savage-visaged men, dressed in simple tunics, woven of sea grass, and bare as to their arms and legs. Without any of the sacred character that appertained to the priesthood near by, they possessed a far more imposing aspect. Their complexions were all sun-bronzed. Their figures recalled pictures that I had seen in books of the Huns that overran the Roman Empire.