"But a moment's reflection was enough to show the utter hopelessness of such an attempt. However much the natives might be astounded for an instant by the discharge of fire-arms, all fear and hesitation would vanish upon our taking to flight. Our backs once turned would be the mark for a score of ready spears; and except perhaps for Rokoa, whose speed was extraordinary, there would be scarcely the possibility for escape. Still it was evident that the audacity of our enemies was steadily increasing, though their attacks were as yet covert and indirect, and, as I knew that Rokoa would not hesitate to retaliate upon the first open assailant, in which case we should be massacred upon the spot, we might soon be compelled to adopt even so desperate a suggestion, as the only alternative of instant death. "At this critical moment, I noticed a sudden movement of surprise or alarm, on the outskirts of the crowd. A group, directly in front of us, no longer giving us their exclusive attention, began to whisper among themselves, glancing and pointing towards the rising ground in our rear, while a half suppressed and shuddering exclamation of `Te Vea! Te Vea!' was heard among the people. Turning round, and looking where all eyes were now directed, I saw a tall native, with a peculiar head-dress of feathers, and a small basket of cocoa-nut-leaflets in his hand, running rapidly towards us. His appearance seemed to awaken in those around us, emotions of terror or aversion, strong enough to swallow up every other feeling, for, no sooner was he perceived, than all thought of prosecuting further the present quarrel, appeared to be abandoned. The priest, alone, evinced none of the general uneasiness or dread, but, on the contrary, a gleam of exultation lighted up his hard and discoloured countenance. The people made way to the right and left, as the new-comer drew near, and a number of them slunk away into the forest or to their homes. The stranger proceeded directly towards Mowno, and taking a small parcel wrapped in leaves, from the basket which he carried, delivered it to him: then, without pausing an instant, or uttering a word, he passed on, taking his way at a rapid pace straight through the village. Mowno received the parcel with a reluctant and gloomy air, though it seemed to consist of nothing but a rough stone, wrapped in the leaves of the sacred miro. For several minutes he stood holding it in his hand, like one deprived of consciousness. Several of those who appeared to be the principal persons present, among whom were Catiline and the priest, now approached him, and they began to hold a whispered consultation, in the course of which the priest frequently pointed towards Rokoa, as though speaking of him. Mowno seemed to be resisting some proposal urged by the others, and spoke in a more decisive and resolute manner than I had thought him capable of assuming. The discussion, whatever was its subject, soon became warm and angry: