Sralik laughed scornfully.
“Thou liest. Long ago, did I know that some day a white-painted ship would come to Pingelap, and that white, men would come and speak to us of this new God and His Son who is called Christ, and would say that this Christ had sent them, and: then would the hearts of my people be stolen from Nanawit the Cave-god, and Tuarangi the god of the Skies, and I, Sralik the king, would become but as a slave, for this new God of theirs would steal the hearts of my people from me as well.”
The white man said sorrowfully—
“Nay, that is not so. Who hath told thee this?”
“A better white man than thee—he who slew my enemies and was named Haré (Harry). Long ago did he warn me of thy coming and bid me beware of thee with thy lies about thy new God and His Son Christ.”
Again the missionary said—
“Let me speak.”
But Sralik answered him fiercely—
“Away, I tell thee, to thy white-painted ship, and trouble me no more,” and he slapped the stock of his musket, and his white teeth gleamed savagely through his bearded face.
So the two missionaries went back, and the Morning Star filled away again and sailed slowly away to the westward.