“That is owing to the lime with which they are plastered,” said the teacher. “When the natives were converted, as I have described, I set them to work to build cottages for themselves, and also this handsome church which you see. When the framework and other parts of the house were up, I sent the people to fetch coral from the sea. They brought immense quantities. Then I made them cut wood, and piling the coral above it, set it on fire.
“‘Look! look!’ cried the poor people in amazement; ‘what wonderful people the Christians are! He is roasting stones! We shall not need taro or bread-fruit any more; we may eat stones!’
“But their surprise was still greater when the coral was reduced to a fine, soft, white powder. They immediately set up a great shout, and mingling the lime with water, rubbed their faces and their bodies all over with it, and ran through the village screaming with delight. They were also much surprised at another thing they saw me do. I wished to make some household furniture, and constructed a turning-lathe to assist me. The first thing that I turned was the leg of a sofa, which was no sooner finished than the chief seized it with wonder and delight, and ran through the village exhibiting it to the people, who looked upon it with great admiration. The chief then, tying a string to it, hung it round his neck as an ornament! He afterwards told me that if he had seen it before he became a Christian, he would have made it his god!”
As the teacher concluded this anecdote we reached his door. Saying that he had business to attend to, he left us to amuse ourselves as we best could.
“Now, lads,” said Jack, turning abruptly towards us, and buttoning up his jacket as he spoke, “I’m off to see the battle. I’ve no particular fondness for seein’ bloodshed; but I must find out the nature o’ these fellows and see their customs with my own eyes, so that I may be able to speak of it again, if need be, authoritatively. It’s only six miles off, and we don’t run much more risk than that of getting a rap with a stray stone or an overshot arrow. Will you go?”
“To be sure we will,” said Peterkin.
“If they chance to see us, we’ll cut and run for it,” added Jack.
“Dear me!” cried Peterkin; “you run! I thought you would scorn to run from any one.”
“So I would, if it were my duty to fight,” returned Jack coolly; “but as I don’t want to fight, and don’t intend to fight, if they offer to attack us I’ll run away, like the veriest coward that ever went by the name of Peterkin. So come along.”